Chapter Thirty Eight

The Whittled Willow was a new restaurant in the large imposing seafront hotel in a nearby and busy resort town. Sammy hadn't been there, but the opening a few months earlier had caused quite a stir. Bookings were being taken at least six weeks in advance, which may not have been much in London, but in this region was unheard of.

Fortunately, and quite by chance, one of Corinne's newest clients was the wife of the much acclaimed chef, hence the table at such short notice.

"I feel out of place here," she whispered as they followed the host to their table, tucked away in the corner of the large dining room.

Joel's hand at the small of her back pressed a little firmer as he leaned forward to say quietly into her ear, "you would not look out of place anywhere."

Smiling with a confidence that she didn't entirely feel she slid into the seat when the host pulled out her chair. Joel, relaxed and smiling, lowered himself opposite then accepted the wine menu.

"Red or white?"

She shrugged, "I don't mind."

"Shall we go white with starters?" When she nodded he called out a few different wines, and she nodded when he selected one. Then their waiter arrived and read out the specials and answered their questions. They ordered, and then the wine arrived and was poured, meaning that it was twenty minutes before they were alone.

"So you've taken off your rings?"

It wasn't what she expected him to say, but she wasn't surprised. "Yes. I should have a long time ago. I've put them away, for Eleanor."

He toyed with his glass, his finger chasing the condensation around the wine filled bowl, "I didn't want..." He shook his head, "I don't want to think that you're doing that because you feel you have to."

She shook her head, "I'm not married now, and as I keep telling you, I am happy and ready to move on. I have to."

Dropping his head for a moment he took a few deep breaths, then lifted his head to look at her, "you sure?"

She nodded, "what about you?"

He ran a hand over his eyes, "I don't know. I want to...but he's here," he patted his chest. "He always has been."

"He's there for me too, but I can love him without putting everything on hold."

"How can I ever live up to him though?"

She paused as their starters arrived, scallops for her, smoked salmon for him, then asked, "live up to him how? To me?"

He was contemplative for a moment, "all things. For you yes. I mean everything we do, everything I say...it'll all be a comparison to him."

Smiling sadly she offered, "I can't remember how it felt to kiss him anymore, I can't even imagine how it feels to have his arms around me. I can barely remember his voice." She smiled, "but I remember how you kissed, I remember how that felt, how close we got at your apartment, and how much I wanted it.

"In the beginning I felt guilty, not because I kissed you, I enjoyed that, but because I didn't think of him as I kissed you. When you touched me, I only knew you. That's why I was so...avoidant."

"Really?" his eyes were studying her intently.

Sammy nodded, "really. So you have no fear that you have to prove anything to me."

"He was everything to me, brother, friend, colleague..."

"What and you can't fill those roles with other people?"

He shrugged, "I guess I feel the guilt you described. I need to get past that."

"You think you can?"

Again he shrugged, "I know that life is going on without him, and without me. And that I want to fight for you and not lose you."

"As a friend?"

He nodded, "Of course friend, but hopefully more than that. I have been filled with guilt over what happened, and again, like you said, I felt guilt that it was me kissing you, not him."

"You said you always liked me."

Joel paled, his jaw slack for a moment, "I forgot I said that."

She speared the remaining piece of her scallop with her fork and popped it in her mouth, watching him, waiting.

He ran a hand through his hair, "really? You're going to make me say this now?"

Trying to hide a smirk she nodded and he groaned.

"The first time I saw you, your hair caught my eye, the sun glinting on it making it look like it was on fire. I think I was smitten at that moment."

Sun? She shook her head, "we were inside, it was shaded on the ferry." He was playing her, telling her what he thought she wanted to hear.

That made him laugh, "the irony." He sipped at his wine before he spoke again. "The day before, or maybe two, I was on the beach. Marcus was lining up some beach party. He wanted an invite to this festival on a private beach. I was at the bar, on the sand, when I saw you, on the harbour. I can see it like it was yesterday."

As he went on to describe everything she wore, detailed as though it was yesterday she felt her heart twist with pain, with indescribable sensations. All this time? She wasn't sure whether she was angry, upset or regretful. Or a combination of all three.

Joel was watching her and she realised she'd switched off for a moment.

"Sorry, I never intended to ever tell you that."

She scrubbed at her eyes, "you never said anything?"

Sitting back in his seat he looked at her for a moment, "say anything? To Marcus?"

A waitress came to clear their plates, and the silence that stretched between them was almost painful.

"I couldn't tell Marcus anything. You disappeared that day; I never thought I'd see you again. But then on the ferry...HE saw you first."

He looked genuinely in pain, "that was hardly legally binding."

He shrugged, "you liked him anyway. You sat with him, flirted with HIM. Not me. I just got over it."

"I flirted with you both. He was the one who seemed interested; I liked you both back then." She shook her head, "Marcus and me, we were chalk and cheese. We wanted different things, different lives, and hugely different ambitions."

Joel threw her head back and laughed sarcastically, "you're saying that you and I would have been a better match?"

Sammy leaned forward and hissed, "I'm NOT saying that, I loved Marcus with all my heart, but we weren't an instant match. It wasn't an obvious partnership. I wouldn't change it, but I'm not the one filled with regret that he didn't speak five years ago. Is that why this is so hard?"

"EVERYTHING I did I owed to him. I keep telling you he was my family, my friend, my colleague. Without him I am nothing."

She shook her head, "bullshit. You are strong, you are intelligent...you created a successful business, YOU made that, and you made him what he was equally. There's no room in life for hiding behind someone else. Unless you're scared."

"Scared of what?" His eyes were flaring in untamed anger. She was glad, rather that than nothing.

"Scared that you are less of a man? You ended the business because Marcus isn't there. Sold it..."

"Because I don't need it, I don't need to work my fingers to the bone...not anymore."

She smiled, "scared that you aren't good enough for me too?"

He dropped his eyes and she immediately reached out and laid a hand on his, "you are good enough, for whatever YOU want. I hope I figure in your future, but either way, you have to know that you aren't a lesser man without him. You don't and never did owe him anything."

Joel was stunned; he was swamped with a myriad of emotions. He'd literally opened his chest and shown this woman every weakness, every anxiety that he had inside him. She hadn't laughed, she hadn't walked away either, but she wasn't just listening, she was poking that knife further into him and twisting it cruelly. Suddenly it was all too much; he needed to breathe, fresh air, some space from the demons that were starting to eat him up.

As he pushed back his chair, Sammy sighed, "sorry. Don't go."

He stared at her, "I'm not ready to be ripped apart like this..."

"You know the first thing I noticed about you? Your generosity. You always ran around in circles for Marcus, you weren't alone, he seemed to be able to illicit that in other people. But you didn't see it as a chore. I remember him calling you one evening, he knew you were at the theatre with a girl, but he wanted pizza from that little place near your office. You remember?"

He nodded, "they stopped delivering..."

"...and he'd had a few beers so couldn't drive. You took your date home, got him pizza then went home alone. That's the sort of man you are. A good man."

"Marcus was good too."

She nodded, "he was, you're right, but he bled me, took all my independence, my joie de vivre and turned it around. He wanted to be in control, he didn't want me to work in London, which meant I didn't make friends. My life became him, just like you, and he loved that devotion, as he did with you."

She stroked the back on his hand with her thumb, "I'm not saying that changes how I feel about him, how much I loved him, because it doesn't. But it does make it even harder to lose him; I had to start all over, which would be bad enough if I didn't have a baby. But no friends, no family, just an apartment and a hole in my life that it has taken almost two years to refill."

Suddenly her words had a resonance, a familiarity, "what are you some amateur psychologist?"

Sammy laughed, "no, but I have had almost two years of sitting in alone, thinking."

Their main course came and they once again reverted to silence, though there was no awkwardness with it this time.

"How's your venison?" he asked leaning forward watching her chew and smile at the same time. "That good, hey?"

She nodded as she swallowed her food, "amazing. And the sea bass?"

"It's hard to ruin sea bass, but this chef has...I don't know, it's beautiful."

Her smile made him tingle, but the rumbling laugh that followed it made his whole body vibrate. Suddenly the image of her in the shower flashed in his mind and tingles became rock hard desire, he only hoped he could manage the rest of the meal without exploding.

"Still can't believe you're having venison when we're in a fishing port."

That sexy chuckle continued and Joel sent a silent prayer to any god that would listen to help his survive the evening.

Dessert and coffee were a more relaxed affair, they'd aired a lot, more than he wanted, or rather he had, but it did feel like a relief of sorts. They moved to safer topics, music, TV, movies, but there was a different type of tension brewing between them now. Sammy was relaxed, her smile easy, her eyes sparkling. He wasn't quite as calm, but he was trying. Desperately.

"So what have you got planned for after dinner?" he asked the question without any forethought and blushed as she giggled.

"What did you have in mind?" He waved a hand in mock surrender and she laughed.

"There's a bar...and a room..." the last bit was a whisper.

He watched her for a moment, "you're sure?"

Shrugging she met his eyes, "are you?"

"I've never wanted anything more in my life, but that doesn't mean I'm sure that it's right." And that was the truth, he didn't trust his own judgement with any enthusiasm, but the ninety minutes they'd been sat in the restaurant he'd fallen one hundred percent into the same camp as Sammy. He couldn't walk away.

"Let's go to the bar?"

They sat on an old Chesterfield sofa in a corner tucked away from most of the room, but close enough to the open fire to be toasty warm. Sammy had a G and T, he a whisky. This would be their last drink, she was sure of that.

"So you're going away soon. You thought anymore about that?"

Joel shrugged, "not in any details. Will you and Eleanor come?"

That stunned her, he'd never imagined that he'd want to take them with him, and it was still so early, so quick...plus there was Corinne.

She tried to hide her surprise and the pleasure at his hints at a joint future, "I'm salon sitting for almost four weeks when Corinne and Mike go off to Asia, that's in ten days time."

He had turned to sit side on, half facing her, and without taking his eyes off her, he smiled, "then we'll wait until after that."

She gasped at his reply, and as his focus moved from her eyes to her lips, her whole body swooned, "my mother..." She struggled to get the words out, her voice suddenly hoarse and her mouth dry. Forcing herself to move, she reached for her drink and gulped at it.

"We can wait...that was only ever an idea; plans are like rules, made to be broken."

The gin and tonic was clutched tightly in her hands and she lifted the glass to her mouth and gulped anxiously again, then she finally brought her eyes back to his, "is that what we're doing?"

Shrugging he took her glass from her hands and placed it on the table in front of them, then moving closer he breathed, "I don't know...but I know I can't resist it."

And then his lips were on hers, magically, hypnotically and hungrily devouring her.