A Season for Second Chances(91)



“I think your boys have got a lot to be proud of.”

“Do you? That’s very nice of you to say so.”

“I’m a nice guy.”

“I’m starting to believe it.”

“What would convince you?”

“If you let me buy Saltwater Nook.”



* * *





    They started the meal with a sharing platter of black bean nachos, the fiery chili quelled by a cooling guacamole with fresh coriander and the richness of the cheese cut through by a sweet tomato salsa. John was interested in Annie’s take on the food and fascinated by how she could identify single ingredients from the impossible jumble before them.

The jug of sangria they shared was as potent as it was fruity, the addition of cinnamon and brandy lending itself to the cold November night.

“I thought you didn’t drink,” said Annie.

“I don’t drink often—Christmas and birthdays usually—but I’ll make an exception tonight.”

“I wouldn’t want to lead you astray,” Annie remarked, tongue in cheek.

“What a pity,” said John, staring at her in a way that made her want to flash her boobs at him.

By the time their main courses arrived—fish tacos for Annie and beef enchiladas for John—the conversation had moved on to John’s various brushes with the law before he found peace in his career and then fatherhood. Annie was feeling warm and relaxed, and like she might tell John all her deepest secrets.

“I’d better not have too much more,” said Annie. “I’ve got work in the morning. And I need to be on top form, I’ve got Billy in tomorrow morning for a trial.”

“Billy?”

“One of the truants who was in the Nook the other day.”

“Is that wise?”

“Why? Because he was playing hooky? Didn’t you ever bunk off?”

“Well, I,” John spluttered indignantly, “yes, I suppose . . .”

“And did that mean you were untrustworthy?”

“No, but . . .” He shrugged. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve not got a leg to stand on.”

“Ely vouched for him, Billy and his grandad used to fish with him. Besides, I’ve got a good feeling about Billy. I think he needs someone to give him a chance.”

John looked at her for a long moment and said: “I think Billy is very lucky.”

The evening had felt as if they were in their own little cocoon, despite the hubbub around them. It was just her and John: his face; his mouth; his deep, smooth voice; the curl of his words; his long, slender hands; the worry lines on his forehead; the sharp line of black stubble at his jaw. Was it just the booze? she wondered. The conversation between them was easy. It had been a long time since Annie had talked like this with anyone, and she didn’t want it to stop; she felt as though she could talk with John forever and never get bored. Ridiculous, she knew. And yet here she was, sharing her thoughts and hopes in a way she hadn’t done since she was teenager.

When the bell rang for last orders, Annie was shocked by how quickly the time had gone. She was even more surprised, when, what seemed like only a moment later, Raye came gingerly to their table and said apologetically that they were closing up. Annie looked around her. The last customers left in a flurry of scarves and coats; a swirl of damp leaves gusted in like a swarm of brown butterflies as they opened the door. And just like that, the spell was broken: Annie was a grown-up again, with responsibilities and saggy boobs.

“I’ll walk you home,” said John, getting up from the table.

“Don’t be daft. There’s no sense you walking all the way down to the Nook, only to have to come all the way back up here. I’m perfectly capable of walking myself home.”

She stood up and felt the carpet shift beneath her feet as though someone were pulling it from the other end of the room. The sangria had really packed a punch. She stumbled, just a little, as she bent to pluck her coat from the back of the chair. John put his hand out to steady her. Annie recovered herself, swayed a little on the spot, and laughed.

“Maybe I’ll get a taxi,” she said.

“Maybe that’s for the best. I’ll call you one now.” John whipped out his phone and made the call. He seemed to know the person at the taxi rank. He chuckled and asked the person on the other end of the line how Thea and the girls were getting on.

“Ten minutes,” said John, a moment later.

“I think I’ll wait outside.” She was feeling hot and a bit woozy.

“I’ll wait with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

“I’ll just pay up,” said Annie.

“It’s done.”

“It’s done?”

“I asked Raye to put it on my tab.”

“Let me give you my half,” said Annie, fumbling in her handbag for her purse.

“I don’t want half. I wanted to treat you to dinner.”

“Oh!” Annie was taken aback. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Call it a goodwill gesture to make up for us getting off on the wrong foot.”

“Well, thank you. The next time is on me.”

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