Chapter Twenty Two

Less than an hour later, Julia was entering her room, a door adjacent to the one that Aaron was entering. She'd half expected there to be an 'issue', then having to share a room. Then she felt awful for being so judgemental. He was nothing but a gentleman. The hotel was midrange, nothing special and she had a view of a car park, but they had booked last minute.

He was giving her an hour to 'do what you need to', then they were heading out. Dinner, he'd said. And suddenly she was starving. She'd showered that morning, but still felt a little stale, so she slipped under a warm powerful spray for a few minutes, then tuned into some satellite radio whilst she pulled on a summer dress and blew dry her hair. All in all, she needed thirty five minutes before she was knocking his door.

The door opened in a few seconds, and Aaron stood there, in just a pair of shorts, his chest bare, and his hair damp. Suddenly she regretted being so organised, so early. Nodding with his head, he offered her into the room, and it was then she noticed the phone that he held to his ear.

"Business crisis," he mouthed. Then crossed to the window.

She stood around awkwardly, feeling like she was really intruding, then abruptly, he ended the call.

"Sorry, seems that basic things can't be done if I'm not watching everyone closely." He shook his head, and then snapped, "imbeciles."

"Do you need to go back?" She'd never seen him so angry.

But he just took a few deep breaths, "no. It's sorted. Just kills me that people need spoon feeding. Honestly. It's fine. You look amazing by the way."

She was tempted to answer, but his chest, his smell...even his anger was making her weak kneed. She watched as he pulled a t-shirt from his bag, she'd been surprised to see him in jeans, but shorts, and he flip flops he slid his feet into...she had to avert her eyes, and take a few deep breaths of her own.

"So, let me show you Providence!"

He announced it rather elaborately as they stepped out into the sun kissed street. It was warm, and would be for a long time. She giggled at his words and he nudged her with his elbow, indignantly.

"I'm serious. This place...it's not a huge City, but I like it here."

She looked around, there were a few imposing buildings on the horizon, she could only imagine that they were government. But other than that it all seemed a little flat. When she voiced that he grinned.

"That was my first impression to...ah, here it is. Our taxi."

Taking her arm he led her to the car and shuffled into the back seat beside her.

"Federal Hill, please. Attwell's Avenue." When he turned to her, his eyes were twinkling. "This is the jewel in the Rhode Island crown."

That comment took her by surprise, but she was enthralled by the view as she looked out at the streets as the cab cut through the city.

It stopped on a street that had an arch way across it. Hanging from that was...

"Is that a pineapple or a pine cone?"

At her question, he looked up at the arch, "no idea. But it's cool."

Nodding, she followed him down the street. And what a street, virtually every building was a bar, restaurant or delicious looking deli. Her eyes were wide as they passed a cheese shop, a few Italian restaurants and a couple of classically American bars.

"Want a beer?" He asked as they stopped outside a bar with tables spilling onto the pavement via the open patio doors that flanked the entrance. The area was basked in the sunshine of the early evening, and was beyond inviting.

"You bet."

They took a table, sat down, and before they were settled a petite woman wearing an apron came over to them smiling.

Aaron ordered them a local beer and sat back his hands behind his head, "what do you think?"

Looking around she smiled, "it's so relaxed here, I love it."

"My sentiments exactly. I usually sit here alone...have a few beers then go back to the hotel and do work. This is a treat for me."

Digesting that, she sat back whilst the pleasant waitress laid their beers on the table.

"So you come here often?" She burst into laughter as she processed what was usually construed as a poor chat up line. "I mean, you visit Kitty often?"

He sipped from the ice-cold, condensation covered mug, then sighed in pleasure, "Kitty moved here about three years ago. Since then I come up frequently, every few months, holiday. Chalford and Messing is more than an old people's home, it's billed as a retirement complex, it's meant to be the best money can buy...but they don't tolerate dogs for more than the odd day. When Kitty was well she could walk them, take them out a little more, plus she was involved in a lot more of the activities in the building. But now she's room bound, she doesn't so anything else, so they're more important to her. But she can't walk them; it's no fun for them to be stuck inside. The staff are understanding, but it's not their job to care for them, so I don't know how long this will go on."

"She's really sick?"

He sighed, "she's eighty nine, a good age generally, so she doesn't want to fight cancer. So she's having palliative care...it's a matter of time. Weeks...months, we don't know. As she gets sicker, then the dogs become more important to her. They love her, but get bored easily. You know what they're like."

Julia digested that for a long moment, even the cold hoppy taste of the beer didn't penetrate the sadness of the moment.

"That's really sad."

He nodded, "it is, especially as her family who live local and are too busy to see her. She wishes...and so do I, that she'd gone into a provision back in Brooklyn, at least then she'd have friends to visit...and the dogs. Families, hey?"

They were both silent for a moment, and it was Aaron who added; "I suppose that's why my parents are always complaining about me not visiting. I see Kitty more than my own grandparents..."

She shrugged, "but if your folks or grandparents moved to live close to you, then you wouldn't not visit them regularly. Distance is a reason, not an excuse."

He pondered that for a moment, "that working for you?"

She almost scowled at that, her family; her relationship was way off the agenda. Instead of snapping, she took a deep breath, "I've told you before that I don't get along with my family. We're not close."

Nodding he reached for his beer, "I know, and I'm not being insensitive, it just seemed like you spoke from experience."

Again she was silent for a long moment, then nodded, "it was a large part of why I needed to get out of London."

Aaron watched the emotions war on her face, she was such a complex person, there was so much happening that he had no idea about, but he wanted to whoop with relief that he'd managed to challenge her without her storming off. It was a step closer, another move in his plan to make her realise that becoming more than friends could be a good thing.

At that thought he sat back in the chair, he sounded too superficial, contrived. Was that what this was? A single handed attempt to get her into bed? He knew it wasn't, he knew it was more than that. He liked Julia, a lot. He wanted to know her, wanted to share things with her, wanted to be her rock.

That scared him even more. He'd never been anyone's rock, and never wanted to be.

Julia was relieved that the conversation was lighter, after that moment. They finished their beer, then wandered further along the street. It was a beautiful place, a relaxed atmosphere, busy as it was a Saturday evening, and the numerous bars and restaurants were lively, but not too hectic. They had a couple more bottles of beer in a couple of different bars, as they made their way along the road.

Suddenly to their right, the pavement opened onto a large square, surrounded by restaurants, each with a set of tables, bedecked with matching cloths and umbrellas. In the centre was an ornate fountain, and a few children stood around the bowl tossing in coins, making wishes. Aaron loved watching Julia's face as she took it all in.

"This place is so cute; I was not expecting that as I walked down the street."

"This is like a little unknown jewel, reminds me of a plaza in Italy, or France."

Nodding enthusiastically, she kept looking, her eyed flitting around, "their all Italian restaurants. My favourite!"

Aaron loved hearing her excitement at that. It seemed that at various points in the time that he'd known her, her eating, or lack of had been mentioned. He feared she'd had some sort of eating disorder in the past, and to see her enthusiasm for food pleased him.

"Pick one. The menus are all outside..."

With a nod she skipped off, an actual skip like a child. There were a couple of large restaurants and a few smaller ones. He sat on a bench near the fountain as she checked out every single menu. Then she tied it down to the two larger ones.

"I don't know which one to pick...."

He looked up from his phone; he'd started to check emails as he waited for her. Her face was lit up as she stared down at him. Aaron glanced between the two restaurants, opposite each other, then pointed to one.

"That one is going to to be in the sun for longer...so it'll be more pleasant to sit outside."

Biting her lip she glared at him, "really?"

He laughed, "of course. It's a dining experience...more than just food. The atmosphere and ambience make it more than just eating."

She stared at him for a long moment, trying to work out if he was knowledgeable of just bullshitting her. Then she shrugged, "don't care if there's fact in that, but it kind of makes sense...a bit."

Laughing out loud, he threw an arm casually around her shoulder, and led her across the courtyard.

Aaron was repeatedly proving to be good company; he was attentive, funny and wildly intelligent. He seemed to know something about everything, as they perused the menu, then ate their starters, washing them down with sparkling prosecco; the conversation switched from the impact of the Industrial Revolution to the latest food fads. She couldn't remember laughing so much and the atmosphere was lighter as there was no mention of the previous tensions between them. She saw him as the good man that he was, and he wasn't hinting at there being more than friendship between them.

As the bowl of linguine was set in front of her, Julia glanced nervously up at Aaron. He paused from tucking into his steak to raise a questioning eyebrow.

"Just thinking how you should never eat long pasta unless you're in the house and no one can see the fall out."

Laughing he shook his head in mock dismay, "I'm eating with a heathen?"

That made her roll her eyes, "no. Someone who enjoys her food. Not used to that, Mr Harding?"

He slumped in his chair, taking that in, it wasn't a subject he thought she'd joke about, and for a moment she looked deadly serious. Then the corner of her lips curled as she fought a grin.

"Touché."

Tiramisu, coffee, and even some Limoncello, meant that they were sat at the table for a long time, the lights had come on and the sun had gone down when Aaron called for the bill. They quibbled about who paid for the meal, but as usual Aaron bullied her into allowing him to pay. She agreed reluctantly, but insisted that she bought breakfast the following day.

"So where now?" He asked as they walked back across the square to the road.

"Are you tired?" When his eyes widened with indignation, she chuckled, "well we're on a street filled with bars..."

Ten minutes later, they'd fought their way into a busy, small Irish bar, where on a small stage in the corner of the room, a middle aged man with a guitar slung around him, sang Pretty Woman, the congregated punters all singing along with him.

"Heard me coming," she offered sliding on the stool next to where Aaron stood trying to attract the attention of the bar staff.

It took a delayed moment, before he digested her words, and he turned to her and laughed, "you're full of it tonight!"

"Full of what?"

He laughed, "bullshit!"

She leaned forward, and he dropped his head to listen to her over the din of the room, with a wicked grin, she used that opportunity to stretch past him and order drinks from the suddenly attentive barman.

Aaron's face was wide with a mixture of wonder and surprise, and she loved it. He leaned in further and whispered, "how the hell did you do that?"

Instead of voicing an answer, she sang along with the singer, "Pretty woman...stop a while, Pretty woman...talk a while...Pretty Woman...give your smile to meeeeeee..." Then she flashed him a show stopping grin." Pretty woman wants, pretty woman gets." And boy did she feel special.

Aaron watched her amused, but then as the singer continued the song, and she mouthed the lyrics at him, they both dropped eye contact.

"Pretty woman, yeah, yeah, yeah. Pretty woman look my way, Pretty woman say you'll stay with me."

The singer sang his way around the sixties, much to the delight of the decidedly older audience, and it seemed to ease the tension somewhat. But Aaron found it hard to control his desire for her, he wanted her, he wanted it all.

When he got back from the bathroom, it was to find Julia deep in conversation with two men. They were a lot older than him, but he still felt a stab of jealousy when he saw how easily the three conversed, there was no awkward undercurrent, no unspoken issues.

He moved to her side, and as if she sensed him, she turned at the exact moment her arm went around his shoulders, "here he is. Now as I told you, his accent is FAR less noticeable than mine...I mean sometimes he sounds completely American." She looked up at him, "Chad and Chris were admiring my accent."

He shook both their hands, then offered, "I bet you two don't think I sound American."

The two men laughed, "not a hint!"

They talked to the men, and a few others who gathered at the bar as the musician finished, lots of topics, but mainly feeding the local people's intrigue with all things British.

"I'm not saying H-erb one more time!" Julia announced, leaning against Aaron.

He looked down at her, her head lolling against his shoulder and he realised that she was both exhausted, and a bit more than drunk.

"Looks like it's time to go, guys."

Chris and Chad both booed, "you guys are too much fun."

He gestured at Julia who was sleepy against him, "long day, and too much wine. Great to meet you."

They all shook hands, then he led her out to the street, where the fresh air made her stagger a little.

Wrapping his arms around her, he waved a taxi, then bundled them into the back seat. As the city flew past their window, she turned her head from its position, against the headrest, to look at him.

"I had fun tonight. Thanks."

He grinned, "me too."

"Sorry I'm drunk."

He preferred the term relaxed, because that's what she was. This was the fun side of her he only ever caught glimpses of. The side that trusted him. The side he wanted to see all the time. Even if that was as far as their relationship ever got.