Page 29 of The First Deal

I didn’t need effort though. I wasn’t angry. I was confused, and in my confusion, I needed space.

I had sent him a text when I had arrived home after leaving. I told him that I was fine and that I needed time alone to process. I then sent another message after three days, three gifts, telling him that I still needed time and that there was no need to send me presents.

He had replied to that message bluntly.

Shane:Okay, but you can’t stop me. Shane Hudson.

I knew that I couldn’t stop him, and part of me didn’t want to. I liked that he cared enough and was showing it, even if he was just throwing money at a situation. He had respected my boundaries to a certain extent, he hadn’t come after me. He was giving me physical space, but he was filling my mental space, and perhaps my heart too, with every gesture.

Without looking up I muttered. “I want to talk to him too.”

“Then why don’t you?” Juno asked, rounding the bar and coming to my side, resting her chin on my shoulder.

“Because I don’t know what to say to him,” I said with a sigh, tilting my head so that my cheek pressed to Junos. “I can get over the whole daughter-my-age thing, but I want to talk about it. I want to understand why he kept it a secret, and I want to know if it’s his only one. I want to know him, but…”

“You’ve stayed longer than you thought you would?” Juno asked, guessing where my head was. “You usually walk away from guys who don’t give as much as you. You don’t push anyone, and you don’t want to push him.”

“I don’t want to lose him either,” I confessed, opening the gift bag.

Juno gasped as I pulled out the blue box, she knew, we both should’ve known from the exact shade of the bag that the box would match, and that inside would be…

“I told him that my favourite film was Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

Juno snorted as she looked past the necklace in the box and back into the bag. She reached in and pulled out a freshly wrapped croissant. “So he bought you breakfast, and something from Tiffany’s.”

Carefully taking the necklace out of the box, I admired it and then handed it to Juno, swapping it for the croissant and pulling my hair up so that she could secure the gift around my neck. “He really is lovely.”

“The loveliest,” Juno agreed, and when I turned to face her, I caught a sadness in her gaze that she quickly banished with a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, you know. I’m doing better.”

“Promise?” I gave her a stern glare and she laughed.

“Promise. I just need to keep focusing on doing this place up”—she gestured around the bar—“and avoiding the twins’ attempts at playing matchmaker.”

Enough time had passed since her break-up that her friends were now comfortable attempting to set her up, and one of the twins was dead set on arranging a date between my boss and his doctor nephew.

“Did someone say matchmaker?” Speak of the devil. In walked Hadley, huge boots stomping wet sand through the front door.

“Nope, you must be hearing things,” Juno said, her tone changing in an instant, becoming flat and uninterested as she made her way back around the bar and began to unload the dishwasher.

Hadley shrugged and approached me, admiring my new necklace and eyeing up my croissant. “She still in one of her moods?” he asked.

I nodded. Juno hadn’t been in ‘one of her moods’ up until now, and it was clear to me that her mood was a defence mechanism, but it was easier to let the old guy believe that she was simply feeling grouchy, rather than telling him that he was part of the reason that her mood had so suddenly changed. She loved those men like they were her family, and just like family, she got annoyed with them too.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Hadley asked as I placed the croissant down on the table.

I picked it back up and handed it to him. “Have at it.”

Grinning, the old dude took my—very late—breakfast and got comfy on one of the stools at the far end of the bar, out of the way, but protectively watching Juno as she worked.

I went to help Juno with the glasses, and then when she went to her office to call one of the suppliers, I pulled my phone out, deciding that today was the day that I’d text Shane again.

Hannah:I get off at eleven. I’ll call you then.

Ten minutes later my phone buzzed in the back pocket of my jeans as his reply came through.

Shane:Are you working tomorrow? Shane Hudson.

Hannah:Nope, so if you’re planning on sending more gifts, send them to my house, not the bar.

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