Page 15 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
‘Hmm.’
‘Gigi tell you that?’
‘No. I’m getting that information straight from the horse’s mouth. Gigi was always too busy telling me how gorgeous and wonderful you were.’
Gabe shook his head. ‘Funnily enough she told me the same about you.’
‘Oh God, did she really?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Well, that’s not embarrassing at all.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
There was something in the way he said it … I knew that he was saying it to make me feel better, less embarrassed about the fact my grandmother had clearly been trying to set us up since the poor man had moved in, but still … Was it stupid that I wished he’d followed it up with something about her at least telling the truth? I gave myself a mental shake.
Yes, Holly, it was stupid.Clearly good food, fresh air and moonlight were playing havoc with my normally fairly sensible reasoning system. A good night’s sleep – something I had definitely been short of for far longer than I cared to remember – would help me sort this out. The novelty of a relaxed evening and an easy stroll with a good-looking man and a cute dog was just something my system wasn’t used to processing. God knew it had been far too long since any one of those things had been part of my life, let alone all of them together in one night.
Besides, what was I even doing thinking of anything that had a hint of romance about it? I’d broken my own rules about that once before and been severely burned for my troubles. There was certainly no wish to ever repeat that particular experience. My grandmother, however, had been a romantic through and through, and my views on relationships were the one thing we disagreed on.
When I’d started dating Paul, and she could see I’d begun to get serious about things, she’d been thrilled. Her thrill had lessened a little when she actually met him but when I’d questioned her about it, she’d just told me that it was something she couldn’t put her finger on. I had been so excited for Paul and Gigi to meet that I was heartbroken to find out she hadn’t liked him as much as I’d hoped. All the time he was there, she’d been perfect and gracious, but then her career on the stage had taught her well about how to put on a smile, even if you didn’t feel like it.
I sighed as I remembered the argument we’d had once I’d realised it had all been an act with Paul, and then I’d become even angrier when she hadn’t been able to explain why she didn’t like him. I couldn’t understand it. After all her words about how love was so special and that continuing my stance on absolutely refusing to even consider the sort of relationship she and Grandpa, and that my parents had had meant that I was doing myself and my heart the biggest disservice possible. But when I finally gave in and opened my heart, it still wasn’t right.
We’d both cried and I’d stormed off back to London. My strop lasted all of a day and by the following evening, I’d been back on Skype to Gigi, hoping that we could make up. She’d apologised too and said that she was sure Paul would grow on her, and it was probably just her natural concern for her granddaughter because she wasn’t sure there would ever be anyone good enough for me. All of which, of course, had made us both cry again.
But, as usual, Gigi had been far more astute than me when it came to love and six months before she died, I’d driven down to Wishington Bay with my heart in shreds. It seemed likely that the reason she hadn’t taken to Paul was because he was a lying, cheating piece of shit who’d decided that just one girlfriend was a little bit too restrictive for him. And I’d had absolutely no idea. I’d, stupidly, thought that despite all my reservations, I had actually found what my relatives had managed to – the love and support of a partner with whom I could see myself spending the rest of my life.
I was, however, entirely disavowed of this ridiculous belief around eighteen months ago, and as much as I wished that could have happened in the privacy of my apartment or his, the universe had apparently decided that wouldn’t be half so much fun as having it happen in the middle of a Christmas works party for the entire company. Thankfully, both for me and the new dress I’d just spent a fortune on, it was immediately clear to the beautiful, tall and elegant woman who stalked in on towering black patent Louboutins, that her existence was as much a surprise to me as mine had apparently been to hers. Possibly the look of absolute shock and horror I could feel on my face had helped her with that conclusion.
This had, thankfully, resulted in both her screaming, and her aim with a gravy-laden plateful of Christmas dinner, being directed solely at him. As he stood there, covered in food, a roast potato sliding slowly down his expensive lapel, she gave him – and me – the final proverbial kick as she pulled off a large diamond ring from her left hand and slammed it down on the table.
* * *
‘That was a big sigh,’ Gabe commented, turning his head a little towards me as my mind bounced back to the present at his voice.
Oh Lord, I had done that out loud.
‘Anything you want to talk about?’
Most definitely not.
‘Huh? Oh no, it was just a … umm … you know, a contented sigh. Don’t have to get up for work tomorrow, la la la, sort of thing.’ I forced a smile and tried not to focus on how idiotic I probably sounded right at that moment.
Gabe nodded. ‘OK.’ Clearly, he didn’t believe a word but, thankfully, we were now very close to the house so he didn’t have time to pursue it, even if he’d wanted to.
‘Well, night then. I hope Bryan is feeling a bit more perky tomorrow.’
‘Thanks. I’m sure he will be.’
The little dog was now sleepily peering out of the front of Gabe’s jacket, having woken when his master had stopped walking, the cease of the gentle rocking movement stirring him from slumber.
‘Night, night, Bryan,’ I said, giving him a gentle stroke on the top of his silky head. He moved a little, his eyes closing as I did it.
‘You might be here all night now.’ Gabe laughed.
I smiled back, thinking that there were far worse places to be, and not only because of one of the cutest dogs I’d ever met. Quickly, I shoved the additional reasons from my mind and held up Petey the Prawn.
