Page 100 of Never Too Late
‘I guess,’ she replied, as I moved to the kitchen, careful not to make any sudden movements in case I spooked her. The current atmosphere was so much more pleasant than the eggshells we’d been walking on until now.
‘Do you have any other content you could use for the next video and explain that plans changed – perhaps for the better? But your viewers will have to wait a tiny bit longer to see?’ He held up his thumb and forefinger to emphasise his words.
Sash pushed herself up a little. ‘Better?’
‘Perhaps. If you’re free tomorrow evening, I can get you a table at Quatorze. Would that help at all?’
She sat bolt upright. ‘What? Impossible.’
He raised his brows. ‘Ah, nothing is impossible.’
A faint frown creased her forehead as I nudged her shoulder to take the camomile tea I’d made her.
‘Oh! Thanks, Mum,’ she said, taking it and immediately putting it down on the coffee table in between them. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Absolutely.’
She scrunched her face, scratched her neck then looked back at him. ‘Why are you doing this? I haven’t exactly been… welcoming.’
I cleared my throat. Sash chewed her cheek. ‘That’s an understatement, obviously. I’ve given you a hard time since I met you. Actually, I’ve been quite the bitch if I’m honest, which I promise isn’t like me.’
Tomas chuckled. ‘I think you are being a little hard on yourself. Yes, you have been tough on me. But I can take it. And actually, I think it made me like you more. Your mother always defended those she loved with her whole heart. You knew I hurt her before and don’t know me enough to trust I won’t do it again.’
She nodded.
‘You ask why I would help you. The simple answer is because I care for your mother and she loves you very much. By doing this, I make you happy – I hope. And that in turn makes her happy. I also don’t like to see people taking advantage of others, which is what seems to have happened?’
Sash huffed in agreement with the latter then looked over to where I’d taken a seat before turning her gaze back on Tomas.
‘Don’t hurt her, OK?’
‘Sash.’ I felt my cheeks flush but their conversation continued without looking at me.
‘I don’t plan to.’
‘Good.’
A pause.
‘You really think you can get a table at Quatorze?’
He held up a finger, pulled out his phone and scrolled for a moment before making a choice.
‘Gerard?Bonsoir, c’estTomas Bertholle…oui, très bon, merci…Est-il possible de parler à Simone, s’il vous plaît?’
A short but warm conversation followed in rapid French and two minutes later, there was a table booked in Sasha’s name. From what I understood, he’d mentioned that she was a dear friend of Tomas’s with a fantastic YouTube lifestyle channel.
‘Voila– 8p.m. tomorrow night. Simone asked if you’d perhaps be interested in a behind-the-scenes tour of the kitchen while you were there?’
‘No! Are you serious? Oh my God!’
Tomas shot a glance at me and I nodded. Despite the seriousness of her expression, this was definitely a good ‘Oh my God’.
He continued. ‘She also offered an interview, if you wanted, but not tomorrow as she wants you to enjoy your meal.’
‘You’re serious? Simone Deschamps said that?’
‘Oui. But she did ask me to emphasise that if you didn’t, she wouldn’t take the slightest offence.’
