From Paris With Love This Christmas. Jules Wake
time was she leaving?
Was it really only this time yesterday, he’d got Laurie’s panicked call? How could he refuse to dash up to Heathrow to pick up her sister, who’d apparently decided upon an impromptu visit? Personally he thought an impromptu visit was bullshit for self-centred and thoughtless visit but hey, what did he know. Laurie sounded thrilled about it, if a little sad that she couldn’t get away. Of course she couldn’t get away, not with a houseful of builders ripping the place apart, Cam away and now poor Norah rushed into hospital. He’d only met the rather elderly Norah and her husband Eric once but if she’d been hospitalised it had to be serious as she was one tough old bird.
He opened the fridge again and grabbed a beer and stared desolately at the empty shelves. After a knackering day working, he did not want to go to the supermarket but it was preferable to another ulcer. With reluctance he put the beer back. Best not down that on his tender empty stomach and then drive. He needed his driving licence. Grabbing his jacket, he tucked his wallet into his pocket and walked into the hall, as Siena came down the stairs.
‘I’ve got a bone to pick with you.’
‘What?’
‘You ate my dinner.’
‘How was I supposed to know it was yours? I thought it had been left by the housekeeper for me.’
He raised one eyebrow in silent sarcasm.
‘Look, there was no one here. I didn’t know you lived here, did I? I thought you were a taxi driver and you didn’t say anything about it last night.’
OK, he now felt slightly bad because he hadn’t done much to disabuse her of that thought.
‘That’s because I thought you would have gone by the time I got back tonight.’
‘I didn’t.’
‘I can see.’ This was becoming slightly farcical and mad as he was about having a cold shower and no supper, his childishness was starting to prick his conscience. This was Laurie’s sister and he owed Laurie big time. She’d helped him out when he was starting up the business. He softened his voice and asked more gently, ‘So what time are you leaving? Do you need me to help organise a taxi to get you to the airport?’
‘That’s OK. I don’t need a taxi.’
‘Right,’ he smiled. ‘Train? You haven’t got a lot of luggage so crossing London shouldn’t be too bad. I can give you a lift to the station in the morning if you like.’ He shrugged into his jacket.
In a gesture that was fast becoming familiar, she lifted her chin. Warrior Princess Barbie. ‘I’m staying for a while.’
His head shot up. That was not part of the plan. He liked living alone. Not being responsible for anyone but himself. It had taken a long time to get here, confident that his mother and sisters were financially secure. As for his ex-girlfriend Stacey, the guilt about her still burned a hole in his stomach.
‘A while? I don’t think so.’
A mutinous line flattened out her mouth. ‘It’s not your house.’
‘But you can’t stay here.’
Up went the chin again. ‘Laurie said I could.’
Jason almost growled. ‘When did she say that?’ It was news to him.
‘It doesn’t matter when she said it, I have a room here.’
‘Yes … but—’
‘I’ll stay out of your way.’
Yeah, right.
‘So how long’s a while? Long weekend?’
She shrugged and he caught her swallow. Not as sure of herself as he’d first thought. ‘What about work?’ Wouldn’t it be nice to just take off for a few days? ‘Won’t they be expecting you?’
She shook her head, amusement lighting up her face. ‘I don’t work.’
‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ he muttered. In spite of himself he had to ask. ‘So what do you do all day if you don’t work?’
She drew herself taller. ‘I do loads of stuff. Go to fashion shows. Meet my friends. Go out to the theatre, exhibitions, shopping. We go to parties. Ski. I’m really busy. All the time.’
‘Nice life if you can get it,’ he observed dryly. ‘Not so much of that going on in Leighton Buzzard, I’m afraid.’ Which guaranteed she’d be bored and on a plane home within the next twenty-four hours.
She gave him a dazzling beam which almost knocked him for six. Christ, she might be bloody annoying but she was one hell of a babe.
‘Thanks Jason. You won’t know I’m here. I promise.’
He had a feeling, he might.
Taking her to the supermarket had seemed a brilliant idea. Ensure she bought her own meal for the night and stop her nicking his. What he hadn’t counted on was how long it took her.
As he stacked a six-pack of Becks in his basket, he looked around. Where had she got to? He was about done. Siena obviously went in for more complicated stuff. He’d left her for dust on the first aisle when she started feeling up peppers. Seriously? He wasn’t a complete philistine, he got the concept of five a day but did you need to check them out so carefully? This was supposed to be a smash and grab raid. Pizza. Beer. Pizza. More beer and a couple of ready-made shepherd’s pies and spag bols. And a shaving gel and deodorant periodically.
Turning back and re-tracing his route, he spotted her at the far end of the aisle in front of the refrigerated cheese cabinet. Her sodding basket empty. She stood there, looking too cute for her own good, attracting some excited second glances from two young guys who had suddenly developed a strong interest in the yoghurt section next to her.
Completely oblivious, Siena picked up different cheeses and read the labels, her head tilted to one side like an enquiring sparrow.
For crying out loud, why hadn’t it occurred to him? She probably couldn’t cook. Wouldn’t have a clue. This had been a complete waste of time. He strode down glaring at the two guys who suddenly decided that maybe yoghurt wasn’t their thing after all.
‘What are you doing?’ He shook his head. ‘Come here,’ he grabbed her elbow and firmly escorted her round the corner into the ready meals section. ‘Do you like pasta?’
‘Wow.’ She turned to him, her eyes wide. She looked like fricking Alice in Wonderland. ‘Look at all this.’ Shaking him off, she wandered along the aisle inspecting the packaging. ‘Four cheese sauce? Cannelloni? Barbecue pork noodles? Beef rib in ale?’ She turned to him, eyes alight with enthusiasm. ‘They’ve got everything. It’s amazing. I didn’t know you could buy it all ready-made like this.’
Jason bit back a retort. Probably never been in a supermarket before in her life.
‘Yeah, who knew?’
‘Gosh, I’ve never seen this before.’ She reached out her hand and picked up a plastic container of bolognese sauce.
He realised that her wonder had turned to amusement. ‘Doesn’t anyone in England know how to cook?’ She raised one eyebrow with a demure smile.
Typical Frog. Always thought they owned cooking. Hadn’t she heard of Jamie Oliver or Gordon Ramsay?
Out of the corner of his eye, he thought her saw her mouth twitch. Was she having a laugh? She certainly looked amused but he wasn’t, far from it.
‘Plenty of people cook, but they might not have time, when they’re working.’ He said it with the emphasis on working. ‘Princess, I am starving. You ate my tea, remember? I want to go home and eat. Right now, I don’t care whether you live on bread and cheese or rice pudding but pick something to eat. I’m leaving.’
OK, so now he was being a complete bastard,