Page 48 of The Cornish Cream Tea Bookshop
‘We’re turning this into a bit of a tea party,’ Ollie said. ‘The last round of drinks from Sea Brew before our own coffee machine makes the café, and this guy,’ she pointed at Max, ‘completely redundant.’
He laughed. ‘Thanks for that.’
Ollie couldn’t resist. Her relief at Thea’s olive branch, and Max’s reassuring presence, were making her giddy. She put her arm around his shoulders and squeezed. ‘He knows he’s safe, or he’d be showing more obvious signs of worry. What would you like? I’m getting a round in.I’mbuying,’ she added, when she saw Max was about to protest.
Once she’d collected orders from everyone in the shop who looked like they weren’t rushing away, she stepped outside, holding the door open for Max.
‘So Dylan wasn’t exaggerating, then?’ he asked. ‘About the Marcus Belrose event?’
‘Not even a little bit,’ Ollie said with a sigh, recklessly slipping her arm through his. ‘I thought my job was on the line for a while, there. If I’d set fire to the bookshop, it would have been game over.’
‘If you’d set fire to the bookshop,’ Max said, ‘all that would have mattered would have been getting you and everyone else out safely.’
‘Good thing it didn’t happen, then. For so many reasons.’ She smiled up at him, and he glanced down at her. He stopped walking, bringing them to a halt on the steepest part of the hill.
‘You know you’re allowed to make mistakes, right?’
‘Not ones involving hotplates and fajita sauce in cosy bookshop nooks.’
‘Even those ones,’ Max protested. ‘Cut yourself some slack, Ollie.’
‘I need to do so much better next time: show Thea that she can trust me 100 per cent.’
Max sighed, then leaned over and planted a swift, gentle kiss on her forehead. ‘I’d better make this the best round of hot chocolates I’ve ever produced, then.’
‘You don’t need to fight my battles,’ Ollie said as they started walking, as she slipped her arm through his again. Her forehead was tingling where his lips had been.
‘I’m not. I’m just here to help. Hot chocolate is my territory, so let me do this, OK? At the next event, you’ll come out guns blazing and everything will go brilliantly, but right now …’ Max squeezed her closer. ‘You can lean on me. Just for the next half an hour or so.’
Ollie didn’t know what to say. She was trying to be so positive, defiant in the face of adversity, but Max could see how much the morning’s catastrophe had dented her spirit. She didn’t know how to convey her gratitude, so she just held his arm more tightly, whispered ‘thank you’ to him. They walked down the hill together, Port Karadow harbour appearing in front of them in all its chilly, steel-blue glory.
Chapter Nineteen
The Crystal Waters spa hotel was Ollie’s kind of place. It sat on top of the cliffs in Porthgolow, where they’d been only ten days before for the Christmas market, and was as luxurious up close as it had been when she had stood, looking up at it, from the beach.
The building was a combination of warm, honey-coloured stone and glass, and before they’d even stepped through the automatic doors she felt her pulse settle. Because, it turned out, even when the bookshop you worked in was in a quaint seaside town, and especially if you had pissed off your boss and an influential celebrity chef by ruining their event and setting fire to things, it could feel quite stressful.
‘Max Holden,’ Max said to the young woman at reception. ‘I’m here for the ten o’clock yoga class. I phoned a couple of days ago to say I was bringing a guest.’
‘Wonderful,’ the woman said, typing quickly. ‘And you know where to go?’
‘I do. Thank you.’
‘Have a good session.’
‘Thanks,’ Ollie added as they passed.
They walked across the elegant, understated foyer, and her gaze was drawn to the sea, visible through the glass wall at the back of the room, beyond sloping gardens that, even in November, had plants that provided architectural interest. ‘This place is stunning,’ she said.
Max held open a door that led to a stairwell. ‘It’s not bad, is it? It has one of the highest-rated spas in this part of Cornwall, and they run excellent classes, too. Janine, the tutor for this session, is great.’
‘She’s happy for all abilities to take part?’
‘Absolutely. You won’t feel out of place, I promise.’ The smile he gave her was warm and encouraging, and she felt it spread through her, welcome when she only had a thin hoodie over her yoga gear.
They emerged into a studio a level below reception, that looked out on the gardens Ollie had been admiring. There were yoga mats laid out, and golden spotlights in the ceiling cast a gentle glow over the space. Several other people were getting settled, placing water bottles next to their mats, and a tall, lithe woman with curly hair was holding her phone close to a sound system. There was a bright, electronic ping as it connected wirelessly.
‘OK?’ Max asked. ‘Where do you want to be? Front, middle or back?’
