Page 83 of Never Too Late
A short time later, Tomas turned off the main road and into the driveway signposted ‘Lausenne Vineyards’. Fresh, green leaves had unfurled on the apple trees that lined the driveway and to each side, rows and rows of vines stretched out as far as the eye could see.
‘The food here is amazing.’
‘I’d have been happy in a café in the city. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.’
‘It’s no trouble.’
Tomas pulled onto a circular gravel drive, centred by a beautiful statue of a water nymph, swinging her legs on the edge of a large, ornate fountain.
‘Is this somewhere you discovered through work? I mean… your original work.’
He smiled at my terminology as he smoothly manoeuvred the car into a parking space near the door.
‘Yes. Christophe, the owner, was very supportive during that time. There was no competitive spirit between us. We became firm friends very quickly. He knew I was in the wrong job long before I admitted it. Come on, I’m excited for him to meet you.’
He exited smoothly, his body moving athletically. The long-limbed youth I’d known had matured into a solid, muscular and clearly still very fit, in all senses of the word, man.
Tomas was at my door as I swung my feet out and put his hand down, which I took, smoothing my dress as I stood.
‘You really do look beautiful, Kitty.’
‘Thank you.’ I flashed a brief smile. ‘Now, please find me some food; I’m starving.’ Compliments, especially from this man, were still something I was struggling to accept.
He took my hand and we walked together across the gravel and up the stone steps into the double-doored entrance.
‘Tomas!’ A tall, slender, impeccably dressed man in a perfectly cut, stone-coloured suit strode towards us, his arms out. The two men embraced before the man, Christophe I assumed, turned to me. ‘And you must be Kitty.’
I held out my hand and he shook it. ‘I’d have kissed your hand but I don’t look good with a black eye.’ He winked at his friend.
‘Whereas I absolutely rock that look.’
Tomas burst out laughing. Christophe looked confused.
‘I’ll explain later. It’s not how it sounds.’
‘I am glad to hear it! Now, come and sit down.’
* * *
As Tomas had promised, the food was indeed fantastic and as I sat back following the last mouthful of a lighter-than-air lemon and elderflower posset Christophe himself had served, I felt about ready to burst.
‘I’m so full!’
‘Me too.’ Tomas laid his hands across what appeared to be a washboard-flat stomach. ‘Christophe’s food is as good as his wine. He has one of the best chefs in the world in that kitchen.’
‘And you should know,’ his friend said as he approached the table. ‘You did your best to steal her enough times.’
Tomas looked suitably chagrined.
‘And yet you still speak to him?’ I teased, pulling out a chair for him.
Christophe shot Tomas a look. I didn’t miss it.
‘You don’t need his permission to sit down. We’re not on a date,’ I teased. Drinking in the afternoon wasn’t necessarily a good idea. Apparently, I was taking longer than expected to learn that lesson. But then again… Why wasn’t it a good idea? It wasn’t like I had work to go back to. And even if I had, it wasn’t unusual to have had a glass or two of wine at lunch here. I needed to remind myself where I was. Just as I was gently and tentatively reminding myselfwhoI was.
‘And even if we were, you could still sit down without asking his permission.’ I swung my gaze to Tomas in a challenge but there was no return there. Just a look that I couldn’t quite work out and the softest upturn at the corner of his mouth.
‘Kitty is, as usual, completely correct.’
