by Liz Fielding
‘I can manage,’ she said, continuing to twist the wire as if she were wringing his neck.
‘I don’t doubt it, but if you go at it like that you’re going to break a nail.’
‘Could you be any more patronising?’ she asked, not bothering to look up.
‘You’re already having a seriously bad day and the last thing you need is to turn it into a disaster.’
She looked up, about to give him a piece of her mind, and saw that he was grinning. He’d been teasing her...
For a moment she was so surprised that she forgot to breathe. Then, without warning, she was spluttering, desperately trying to hold back an explosion of giggles. This was so not funny. Except that it was. And exactly what she needed. A good laugh...
‘Bastard,’ she said. ‘A broken nail is not a disaster. But you’re right, I don’t have time to visit the nail bar.’
‘That’s better,’ he said, taking the bottle from her and, while she struggled to get her giggles under control—stress-released, exactly like the bubbles in champagne, obviously—he dealt efficiently with the wire and, holding the cork firmly in one of those capable hands, twisted the bottle with the other so that they parted with no more than a gentle pop. None of that flashy fizz bang whoosh for Alexander West. ‘I don’t know what’s upset you,’ he said, setting the bottle on the work surface, ‘but in that mood you’re going to curdle the sorbet.’
‘If I did it would be your fault.’
‘Isn’t everything?’ he said, reaching for another bottle.
‘Probably not,’ she admitted, ‘but I’m going to have to manage without Nancy and in this instance you are definitely to blame.’
That got his attention. ‘Are you telling me that she’s already found another job?’
‘Oh, please. She never got as far as the job agency. You shouldn’t have paid her off in, um, cash,’ she said, demonstrating that he wasn’t the only one who could lift one eyebrow at a time.
‘I didn’t have my cheque book with me.’
‘Oh, I understand. I mean, who carries a cheque book these days?’ she replied and he shifted his head an inch, acknowledging the hit. ‘Unfortunately cash is a lot easier to spend.’
‘She can’t possibly have spent it all,’ he protested.
‘No?’ Just how much had he given her? ‘Not all, but a new hairdo, a holiday and some clothes for her little girl must have put a pretty big dent in it.’
He let slip a word that she wasn’t meant to hear. ‘I’m sorry, but that was supposed to tide her over until she found another job,’ he said, exasperated. Not quite as laid back as he looked, then.
‘You know that. I know that. Nancy...’ She lifted her hand in a helpless gesture. ‘I was so mad at her when she told me what she’d done that I wanted to shake her, but she hasn’t had a break since her boyfriend decided that fatherhood was interfering with his lifestyle...’ Her voice snagged in her throat. Women were so much at the mercy of their emotions. Of the men who took advantage of them and then walked away from their responsibilities.
Not her.
Not her...
‘When I told her that I wanted her to come back to work, her first concern was whether she’d have to repay you.’
The same word and this time he didn’t apologise.
‘Of course she doesn’t have to give it back. It was a redundancy payment from Ria’s business.’
‘From the business? You deducted tax and national insurance?’ He began to peel the foil off a third bottle. ‘Not that one. Not yet,’ she said, reaching out to stop him, a jolt of warmth running through her hand as it closed over his.
His knuckles were hard beneath her palm, a little rough. Sun-bleached hair, gold against his sun-darkened skin, glittered on his wrist. She wanted to slide her fingers through it. Along his arm. Feel the hard muscle beneath the skin.
Alexander was staring at her fingers wrapped around his. They looked so pale against his, her nails painted to match her suit, so shockingly bright. Then he looked up and she saw what she was feeling reflected back at her, like a wave of heat. Undisguised, raw, shocking in its intensity.
Like her older sister, she had lived with the legacy of her mother’s reputation, and had found it easy to resist temptation. Like her sister, all it took was a man with hot blue eyes to short-circuit her defences.
Speak...
She had to say something, break the spell, before she did something really stupid...
‘I’m surprised...’ Her mouth made the words, but no sound emerged and she swallowed, desperately. ‘I’m surprised that if Ria had that much cash in her bank account she wasn’t paying her bills.’
‘Ria is owed money by a couple of restaurants.’ He continued to hold her with just the power of his look. This is how it begins, she thought. This is the irresistible force that my mother felt... A phone began to ring from the depths of her handbag, shattering the tension. She ignored it. ‘I’ll get it back,’ he said.
‘Will you?’ The spell broken, it was her turn to give him the disbelieving eye. ‘Are you sure they didn’t pay her cash on delivery?’ she asked, carefully removing her fingers from his, taking the champagne bottle and setting it back on the work bench. ‘For a discount?’ Her shrug gave new meaning to the word ‘minimalist’. ‘She wouldn’t last very long on the cash I gave her.’
‘You’re catching on.’
‘Sadly not fast enough. If I’d had half a clue what kind of mess she was in...’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t understand. She didn’t seem bothered about a thing. The last time I saw her she seemed buoyed up. Excited.’ She let it go. ‘Unfortunately I now have another problem. Tomorrow is Friday, the weather men have promised us sunshine and we have no one to open up and serve the wonderful people of Maybridge with their favourite ice cream.’
‘We?’
The ‘we’ she’d been referring to was Scoop!, but she was happy to include Alexander West since, for some reason that eluded her, he appeared to be taking the whole thing so personally.
‘I’d do it myself,’ she said, ‘but, as you’re aware, I have a major event tomorrow. I should be at Cranbrook right now putting everything into place.’
‘I hope you’re not suggesting that’s my fault.’
‘You’re the one who gave Nancy the money to take off for a week,’ she said, but with a smile, so that he’d know she wasn’t mad at him for that. On the contrary, if she wasn’t very careful, she could find herself liking him. Quite a lot. Despite the fact that he needed a haircut, didn’t wear a suit and would rather hack his way through a mosquito-infested jungle than settle down and compete for the corner office like a proper grown-up.
Like Graeme, she reminded herself.
The man she’d picked out as her ideal husband. Mature, settled, everything that Alexander was not.
But then Alexander’s smile crinkled up the corners of his eyes, tucked into a crease low in his cheek, emphasising the relaxed curve of his lower lip and for a moment she forgot to breathe.
‘You do know how to use an ice-cream scoop?’ she asked. ‘You just press the handles together and...’ He glanced warningly at her and she stopped. Whatever was the matter with her? ‘It’s got to be more fun than winding up a business.’
‘You’ll get no argument from me on that score,’ he said.
‘So, leave it until after the weekend. It seems a shame to spoil a sunny Friday doing a job that’s custom made for a wet Monday morning.’
‘Are you seriously asking me to run Knickerbocker Gloria tomorrow?’
Without thinking, she put a hand on his forearm. It was the simplest of gestures. Quiet appreciation of everything he was doing, no matter how unwillingly. ‘I wish. Unfortunately you have to do the hygiene course before I can leave you in charge.’
‘I do know how to wash my hands,’ he said.
‘I don’t doubt it, but I’m afraid the Environmental Health Officer will require a certificate to prove it.’
He covered he
r hand with his own. ‘It’ll be tough, but I’ll try and live with the disappointment.’
‘I’m sure you’ll survive. On the other hand...’
She paused.
‘On the other hand what?’ he asked.
‘If you’ll take Basil’s place at Cranbrook tomorrow...’ his eyes narrowed ‘...I’ll ask Basil to run Knickerbocker Gloria until Nancy gets back.’
‘Excuse me? Are you offering me a job?’
‘I’ll pay you the going rate.’
‘That would be the minimum wage, I imagine.’
‘A little more than that.’
‘Don’t tell me...all the ice cream I can eat.’
‘At these prices?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You’ve got to be kidding. I could offer you a discount on Rosie. If you’d like to hire her for a party?’
‘How about next year’s Christmas party at the hospice?’
‘We already do that for cost, but if you’ll come along and play Santa I could be persuaded to do it for nothing.’
‘It’s almost irresistible,’ he said. The ‘almost’ suggested that he’d manage. To resist.
‘Okay, I’ll let you help me make the champagne sorbet. Final offer.’
‘Without a hygiene certificate?’ His smile was slow, meltingly sexy... ‘Whatever would the Environmental Health Officer say about that?’
‘When I say help, I was thinking about opening the champagne. For the second batch. Since you’re so concerned about my nails.’
‘Now who’s being patronising?’
‘I’ll need a taster, too. Just in case Ria has been waving her wand over the mixture. After the great job you did with the cucumber ice cream, you’re my go-to guy when it comes to magic.’
And that did it. His laugh, full-throated and deadly, rippled through her like a gentle breeze, stirring up all kinds of blush-making thoughts. It was such a good thing that he wasn’t her type or she’d be in serious trouble.
‘I should have thrown you out when I had the chance, Sorrel Amery.’
‘It was never going to happen. I’ve got your measure, Alexander West.’ It had taken her a while but, whatever his relationship with Ria, her dreamy look was totally justified... ‘Okay, here’s my very final offer. All of the above plus dinner. I’ll bet there’s nothing but nut cutlets in Ria’s fridge.’ She lifted one of her own eyebrows. ‘Am I right? Or am I right?’
He shook his head. ‘I thought...’
‘What?’ He didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. He’d made it fairly plain what he’d thought. ‘That I was all front and no bottom?’
‘On the contrary. When I saw you bending over that freezer I thought you were all bottom and no front.’ His gaze drifted down to the open white coat, lingered momentarily on the neckline of her chemise. ‘Then you stood up and turned around.’
She opened her mouth, closed it, tucked a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear and then snatched her hand away, remembering how gentle, how warm his fingers had been as he’d done that.
‘The champagne goes in the syrup...’ She cleared her throat. ‘Whenever you’re ready. Then you can turn it on and set it to churn.’
‘When do you want me to taste it?’
‘When it’s just starting to turn slushy.’
‘What will you be doing?’
‘Checking on progress at the business end of the event. If you’ve no objections?’ she said, leaving him to empty the champagne into the syrup while she took a moment to call her sister.
‘Elle? Has the ice-cream bar gone to Cranbrook Park, yet?’
‘All done. Sean stayed and set it up with Basil. Everything is in place. How are you managing your end? You sound a bit shaky.’
‘Do I? Well, it’s been a shaky sort of a day, but I’m getting there.’
‘Any news of Ria?’
‘Nothing, but I can’t worry about her today.’
‘Is it going to be a problem, Sorrel? What about that new chocolate ice for next week? Is that made?’
‘No.’
‘Terrific. I can’t believe she’d do this to us!’
‘I’ll sort it,’ she said, turning away so that Alexander wouldn’t hear, ‘if I have to go to Wales myself and find her.’
‘Don’t leave it too long. Wales is a lot bigger than you think.’
She called her uncle next and once he’d confirmed that everything was ready for tomorrow, she said, ‘Basil, how do you and Grandma fancy running Ria’s ice-cream parlour for a week starting tomorrow?’
‘Serving proper old-fashioned ices? Banana splits? Chocolate nut sundaes with hot fudge sauce? Those fabulous Knickerbocker Glorias?’
‘All of the above,’ she said, laughing, mostly with relief that he sounded so enthusiastic. ‘I’ll organise a couple of students to come in and do the running around, but I want a really good show. Maybe you could create a bodacious sundae of your own?’
‘Well, who could resist an offer like that? I’ll have to check with Lally, of course, but you can count me in and I’m sure she’ll be happy to help out, but what about the Jefferson event?’
‘No problem.’ She glanced at Alexander, who was standing over the churn watching the sorbet begin to chill. He really should be wearing a hat... ‘I’ve got a volunteer ready and willing to stand in for you.’
‘If you’re referring to me, I did not volunteer for anything,’ Alexander said, without turning around.
‘Oh, and tell Gran there’ll be one extra for supper, will you? I’m going to have to bribe him with steak and ale pie.’
EIGHT
Ice cream is like medicine; the secret is in the dose.
—from Rosie’s ‘Little Book of Ice Cream’
Alexander, as a matter of instinct, absorbed the sounds around him. In the rain forest it was a lifesaver. Here it was only the hum of the freezers, the whirr of the churn, the street sounds filtering in from the front of the shop. They were safe noises that he could filter out, allowing him to focus all his attention on Sorrel.
Her urgency, the slightest hesitation as she assured ‘Elle’ that she was coping, her determination as she turned her back on him, lowering her voice as she told her sister that she was prepared to go to Wales and find Ria. Good luck with that one. He registered the warmth in her voice as she spoke to someone called Basil, the hint of a giggle that made him want to smile.
Just being in the same room as her made him want to smile. Something he hadn’t anticipated this morning when he’d discovered the extent of Ria’s problems.
‘Steak and ale pie?’ he asked, since he had obviously been meant to hear that last part.
‘Unless you’re a vegetarian like Ria,’ she said, ‘in which case you can share Geli’s tofu.’
‘Who or what is Geli?’
‘Angelica is my younger sister,’ she said, joining him at the business end of the kitchen to check the mix. ‘The animal lover.’
‘And Elle?’
‘That’s Elle for Lovage, Big Ears, although I’d advise you to stick to Elle when you meet her. She’s my older sister.’
‘The one with three little girls.’
‘All under the age of five.’
‘Good grief.’
‘She makes it look easy and her husband is a fully engaged father,’ she said. A shadow crossed her face so quickly that it would have been easy to miss. ‘He’s a dab hand with a nappy.’
‘Good for him.’
‘Yes...’ Again that shadow, before she shook it off, looked up. ‘Grandma is also called Lovage, but everyone calls her Lally.’
Sorrel, Angelica, Lovage, Basil; he was sensing a theme... ‘Steak pie is absolutely fine with me, I just didn’t expect to be having dinner with The Herbs.’
She pulled a face. ‘“And they shall eat the flesh in that night, roast with fire, and unleavened bread; and with bitter herbs they shall eat it.”’
The face was meant to be comic, but he sensed that it masked some more complicated emotion and that if he probed a
little, this supremely assured young woman might just fall apart. ‘From the ease with which you trotted out the quotation, I’m sensing a lack of originality,’ he said, sticking with the superficial. Ria was emotion enough for any man.
‘A teacher who thought she was being particularly clever gave us that nickname when I was at primary school. My mother’s name was Lavender.’
Was... He noted the past tense but didn’t comment. He already knew more than enough about Sorrel Amery.
‘The full set, then. So Fenny is presumably Fennel...’
‘Just Fenny, actually. No one would call a little girl Fennel. But you’ve got the general idea. Her sisters are Tara and Marji.’
‘Tarragon and marjoram? What would the baby have been called if she’d been a boy?’
‘Henry.’
He grinned. ‘Good King Henry?’
‘You certainly know your herbs, although actually it’s a family name on her father’s side. Look, I’m sorry I can’t offer you something more exciting by way of dinner, but I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow and you’re not dressed for any restaurant I’d care to be seen in. It’s The Herbs or nothing.’ Then, as he shrugged, ‘Do. Not. Do. That!’ She turned away before he could respond and he glanced down at his shoulder where the gap in the seam had widened noticeably.
‘I could take my T-shirt off if it bothers you so much,’ he offered, barely able to suppress a grin.
‘No!’ she said, with more vehemence than entirely necessary. ‘Forget the T-shirt. Here, taste...’ She stopped the machine, took two plastic spoons from the pot, tasted the mixture, then handed the second spoon to him. ‘What do you think?’
As he bent to dip into the mix his gaze intersected the point where the top of the silky thing she was wearing skimmed the top of her breasts and the last thing on his mind was sorbet.
He had absolutely no argument with her front. Or her rear...
‘Well?’ she demanded, when he took his time over filling the spoon, tasting the sorbet.
‘It sort of sparkles on the tongue.’
‘Right answer,’ she said, briskly.
She was a little underdressed for the part but she was back in Businesswoman of the Year mode. It should have been off-putting. On his brief trips home his chosen partners were party girls who expected nothing more than a good time for as long as he was around.