Plus One Is a Lucky Number

by Teresa F. Morgan

  Sophie shot him a stern expression before turning to his mother and smiling. “Do you need any help in the kitchen?”

  “No, you’re all right, dear.” Pam smiled then turned to Adam. “Why don’t you take Sophie out to the garden? It’s shady, and so much cooler than in here.”

  Adam led Sophie into his mother’s cottage garden, full of nooks and crannies, hollyhocks, sweet williams and lupines, towards a patio. A big umbrella shaded the chairs, padded with cushions, around a garden table. He held out a chair for Sophie, then sat beside her.

  His mother soon appeared with a cafetiere and three cups on a tray. The conversation flowed steadily, Pam asking Sophie most of the questions, and for most of it, Sophie answering them truthfully.

  His mother was quite taken with Sophie. But then who wouldn’t be? She had a natural charm about her and her confidence had grown since the wedding weekend. Was that why she was being so honest, letting her feelings for him be known?

  “You know he’s rich, don’t you?” Pam said.

  “Mum!” Adam’s cup clattered on its saucer.

  Sophie glanced at Adam and put her cup down. “Yes, I know he’s rich.” She smiled at his mother. “Though I only found out at the wedding.”

  “You did?” His mother sounded surprised.

  “Yes, before I thought he was an account manager at the company.”

  “Ah yes, you’re using my name, aren’t you, dear? I wanted the name to be double barrelled – you do when you’re nineteen – but Gordon wouldn’t allow it, so I insisted Adam had Reid as a middle name.” Adam rolled his eyes. He’d heard this story a few times.

  “I’m not interested in his money,” Sophie said, suddenly defensive. “I fell for his charm and that smile of his.”

  “Ah, yes, his charm. I believe it’s due to him being an only child; he was pretty good at getting his own way. Would pull one of his adorable faces and I found myself unable to say no.” Pam stood up, laughing. “Time to get my own back. Let me show you some old photographs.”

  “Mum, please, not the family photos.” But it was too late, she headed off toward the house. Adam groaned.

  Sophie chuckled. “Oh yes, please.” She nudged him, and knowing his mother was out of earshot said, “Blackmail material at work, I think.”

  “You dare.”

  His mother promptly returned, armed with a couple of photo albums. Adam hid his face behind his hand, shaking his head.

  “You’ll scare her off.”

  “Nonsense. I haven’t had a chance to do this ever,” his mother said, then turned to Sophie. “You’re the first girlfriend he’s ever brought home. Oh, except once, some strumpet – too busy filing her nails to have a conversation with me.”

  “Mother!” He shot her a warning glance, but Pam ignored him. Handing an album to Sophie, she huddled next to her and pointed out the pictures. Sophie said ‘oh cute’ a lot, and giggled, too, as his mother told her some anecdote about the picture.

  Eventually his mother glanced at her watch and said, “I’d better sort out lunch.” She left Sophie and Adam sitting under the umbrella.

  “Has Pam only met one of your girlfriends?” Sophie asked, flicking through the pages of the album.

  “She’s met some at family occasions, but after Michaela, I tried to avoid it at all costs.”

  “Were they as bad as your mum makes out?”

  “No! She assumes they’re all as bad as Michaela, but they weren’t.” He looked at her earnestly.

  “I believe you.” Sophie smiled then her turned attention to a photograph he couldn’t see because she’d tilted the album. “Oh, this one I need to copy and take to work,” she said excitedly. “James would like to see this one.”

  “Which one?” Adam said, frowning.

  “Not showing you.” Sophie held the book to her chest. They stood, and she ran down the garden, giggling. He chased after her, catching her quickly, grabbing her around her waist. He knew his mother had a great view from her kitchen window. Would she be watching?

  Adam pulled Sophie around to face him, and she put the album behind her back, still laughing. She quickly sobered as Adam looked at her, a cheeky smile forming. He tugged her towards him, his lips landing on hers. He had longed to kiss her, probably since picking her up at the train station. Sophie relaxed into him, the tip of his tongue parting her lips. Lost in the kiss, his hands slid around her waist, resting on the small of her back, pulling her closer, crushing her body against his, and then he found the photo album.

  He snatched it from her grip, pulling out of the kiss and grinned. “Ah-ha!”

  She huffed. “That was not fair.”

  He cupped her neck, stroking her soft skin with his thumb. “Sorry, had to give my mother something.”

  “Shall we go see if she needs some help?” Sophie slipped her hand into his.

  “Yeah, all right,” Adam replied. She pulled, and he resisted, she turned and frowned. “Thank you, Sophie.”

  “For what?”

  “For pleasing my mother.”

  “I’m just being myself. The only pretending I’m doing is being your girlfriend. And that’s not really hard.”

  Adam quickly hid his surprise, hearing her sincerity. It wasn’t hard. But it didn’t mean they were right for one another.

  ***

  Sophie walked into Pam’s kitchen with the intention to help. Sophie wanted to show Pam the type of girl she was, wanting to be liked. It could backfire, though. What if Pam didn’t want help, wouldn’t like her for it? Too many chefs … Well, she’d try at least.

  “Need a hand?”

  “Actually, you could chop up those tomatoes,” Pam replied, then frowned. “You do know how to use a knife?”

  Sophie chuckled. “Were his previous girlfriends really that bad?”

  “You don’t know the half of it. I dare not share it with you either, otherwise you might scarper. And I like you.”

  Sophie gulped at Pam’s honesty. It would be Adam’s mess to deal with after today. Not Sophie’s this time.

  Sophie breathed deeply, shaking off her guilt, and set to work with the tomatoes, then the peppers, cucumber, and carrots, making some decorative as her mother had once shown her. The two of them chatted casually, while Adam was sent back and forth to lay the garden furniture out.

  “Oh, my, you can cook!” Pam said, noticing the salad. Sophie could argue that a salad was hardly cooking, but she knew what Pam meant.

  “My mother’s a chef. So is my sister.”

  “But I thought you were an engineer?”

  “I am, but my mother didn’t let me go to university without some basic skills.”

  “Basic skills are how to use the microwave for beans on toast.”

  “I also worked in Mum’s restaurant during the summer holidays while at uni,” Sophie said. She’d hidden herself more like, insisting on helping in the kitchens rather than waitress, for fear of seeing Simon. How silly did that seem now?

  Adam walked back into the kitchen and Pam turned her attention to him. “Adam, this woman is a keeper. Not only is she beautiful, she can cook, too.”

  Sophie blushed, handing Adam the salad bowl. He looked anxious - maybe he realised lying to his mother wasn’t a good idea. Pam was friendly and passing compliments left, right and centre. Sophie modestly shrugged them off.

  By the time they’d finished in the kitchen, Sophie had swapped recipes, and they were laughing and joking like old friends. Adam had gone quiet. Maybe he was already trying to work out how he was going to tell his mother Sophie and he were no longer an item?

  “And she eats,” Pam had commented during lunch. By now, Adam was glaring at his mother for her constant digs at his previous old flames. Sophie couldn’t help but giggle.

  “Well, that’s a good thing,” Pam had continued. “Think of money well spent when you go to fine restaurants and she actually enjoys the food, rather than playing with it because she’s too concerned about her figure.” Pam winked at Sop
hie.

  Pam insisted they stay longer and play cards, teaching Sophie how to play Cribbage – and lose, even with Adam’s help.

  It was actually wonderful - and another thing Sophie missed. Family involvement. She wanted to be part of a family. She had a family, of course, but they felt so far away. And her life was settled here – wasn’t it? She loved her job. Yet, Harry’s offer milled around in the back of her mind.

  If only Adam would see sense. Maybe he would after today. They were relaxed with one another. It became normal to Sophie to touch him, pat his arm, and give him little kisses. Were they fake on his part, though? Did he still see it as a lie?

  The afternoon drifted on. Birds sang their evening songs, and crickets chorused in the garden among the long grass in a part Pam kept natural. Too full from the lunch, Pam served cheese and biscuits, then a huge gateau for dessert. Finally, Adam insisted he take Sophie home, promising his mother she would see Sophie again.

  A promise he’d have to break, because Sophie would not be doing this again. She’d enjoyed the day, enjoyed Adam’s company and loved meeting his mother. But if it couldn’t be for real, she needed to move on. She hadn’t got over Simon and regained her confidence to let it be stifled over a relationship that wasn’t ever going to happen.

  Besides, guilt had eaten away at her at the wedding, lying to her own family and friends, and now today, meeting Adam’s mother, she hated being part of this deception. It was happening all over again, but this time her family weren’t the ones being fooled.

  Adam stood outside Sophie’s flat. Despite her protest, he’d insisted he walk her up to her front door.

  “You should never have promised she’d see me again,” Sophie said.

  “I know.” Adam’s hand combed through his hair, and his forehead creased with a frown. “At times, today was really tough. It’s not great lying to your mother.”

  “Now you know how I felt at the wedding. I didn’t have to lie to my mother’s face, but I had to make up a story over the phone. And Cassie - I hated lying to her.”

  “I haven’t got my mother off my back, have I?”

  Sophie wrinkled her nose. “No, probably not. But you’ll have to tell her something. Maybe the truth. You’re not ready to settle down.” She sounded annoyed, but he needed shaking or thumping, to come to his senses. Hadn’t today felt as right for him as it had for her? They fell into a natural rhythm with one another. Comfortable, and happy with a spark of life she’d never felt before.

  “She’s going to kill me. She really likes you. I was hoping in some ways – and no disrespect - she wouldn’t, so we could’ve been out of there early. But no, you lay it on thick and she loves you.”

  “Hey, don’t you blame me. You said be yourself. So that’s what I did.”

  “Sorry. Of course, my mother was always going to like you, that’s what I love about you,” he said, stepping forward brushing her cheek. She froze. Her heart sped up. “And it’s why I asked you. Thank you for today.”

  That’s what he loves about you. About you. Not loves you. Remember.

  Sophie shrugged, coolly. “You’re welcome. Considering what you did for me at the wedding, I suppose it’s the least I could do.”

  Adam looked at her, a look she knew. He leaned forward, head tilting, lips parted, moistened. He kissed her. And she let him. He was a superb kisser. Heat pulsed through her body, landing deep in her belly, tingling. As her body leaned into his, wanting to relax into his arms, comb her fingers through his hair, he pulled away. Suddenly she felt stupid. Why did she let him kiss her?

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Remember an overnight bag,” he said, too casually for Sophie’s liking.

  “This is business, isn’t it?” She sucked a breath in deeply.

  “Of course.”

  “Right, well, I guess we’re square now,” she said. A lump formed in her throat. Wasn’t this where he said, ‘What the hell, I’ve had a great day with you. Let’s just give it a go?’

  “Yes, we’re square.” He nodded.

  They no longer owed one another a favour.

  She chewed her lip, finding the courage to speak. “You know how I feel about you, so don’t ask me to do this again.”

  “I won’t.” He had the audacity to shrug his shoulders.

  Feeling tears welling in her eyes, she hurried into her flat. Before closing her front door, she said, “Then, never, never kiss me again – unless you mean it.”

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Monday morning arrived far too quickly, and Sophie made her way into work with a small overnight bag. Not sure what to expect from the trip, she’d dressed up a little and wore more makeup than she would usually for the office. She’d kept her hair down, and conscious she looked different than her fellow engineers were used to seeing, her stomach fluttered with anxiety.

  They’re blokes, they won’t notice.

  She heard a whistle of approval. James was looking over his desk.

  “You’re looking very smart.”

  Great. What was it with James? He’s not a normal guy. Maybe Kate had trained him to notice the finer details, which was a great quality for a guy to have, but not today. Not for Sophie.

  “I have a meeting with one of our customers. I’m going to Manchester with Adam,” she replied, trying not to sound defensive, or fiddle with her hair. She casually switched on her computer, to check emails and do as much as she could before Adam appeared.

  “So this look is for the clients, not Adam?”

  “Definitely not for Adam.” She was certainly getting closer to the devil every day, the amount of lies leaving her mouth. In her defence, she’d wanted to look her best for the clients, too. It was for the clients. She didn’t give two hoots what Adam thought – really.

  Last night she’d made a decision. She could no longer stay at Thomas Robotics, however much she enjoyed her job and the people she worked with. She couldn’t watch Adam from the side, out of her reach. Out of sight would be better to get him out of her mind. She would miss James but they could stay in touch. And if she stayed, would she be asked to pretend to do this, and pretend to do that for Adam? She wouldn’t be used.

  She’d called Harry and found his offer still stood. Open indefinitely, he’d said on the phone. She would move closer to home. With her past firmly behind her now, she was no longer afraid to go back. And her sister was having a baby. She was going to be an aunt.

  “Did you see Adam over the weekend?”

  “Why?” Sophie blushed. What did James know? Should she be honest with him?

  “He couldn’t play a round of golf with me Sunday,” James said, wandering over to her desk, leaning on the partition. “Said he was busy. I hoped he was busy with you.”

  “Does he know you’re trying to push us together?”

  “No! I’m not.” James grinned. “But don’t you tell him.”

  “Of course not.” She screwed up her face and tapped his arm. “How embarrassing does that look? Because he’s certainly not interested in me.”

  “I need to bang his head against a wall.”

  “It’s no good trying to force something that can’t happen. Besides,” she looked at her computer screen, unable to look at James, “I’m thinking of leaving.”

  “What?” James said, shocked. “You can’t. Does he know?”

  Sophie shook her head. “I’ll tell him while we’re in Manchester. My father’s friend has offered me a job, and my sister is pregnant. I think I want to move back home.”

  “You think? You’re not sure?”

  She huffed and tried to sound more positive. “No, I do.”

  “Oh, right. Well, congratulations to your sister.” James rubbed his head. “Would you stay though, Soph, if Adam asked you to?”

  She frowned, and swallowed. Could he read her so easily?

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  “There is no point continuing with this conversation, James. Go back to your desk.”

  “Please p
romise me you’ll talk to Adam.”

  “I will. And I’m sorry. I would’ve liked it to have worked out too.”

  Sophie turned her attention to her PC, feeling her eyes prickle. She did not need to cry now, not in the office. James went back to his desk, mumbling about it being a shame, then picked up the phone and dialled. She started to answer some emails, and soon became engrossed in her work, calming herself and forgetting about a certain person called Adam.

  “Are you ready?”

  Sophie jumped in her seat, as Adam appeared at her desk. His blue eyes locked onto hers, and he smiled.

  “Oh, um, yes, I think so,” she said, pressing send on an email she’d been typing.

  “Just waiting for Lauren to arrive,” he said. “Come with me and get a coffee. I’ll bring you up to speed on the meeting we’re having this afternoon.”

  Sophie got up from her desk, feeling eyes upon her. James. He was going to be thoroughly disappointed; not only had his little matchmaking ploy not worked, it had probably driven Sophie away. But she needed to escape Adam’s presence if her heart was to remain in healthy shape and beat normally. In the meantime, she would have to endure its erratic behaviour in Adam’s presence.

  Instead of walking to the coffee machine down the corridor, Adam directed her into an office containing a single desk and an oval table with six chairs tucked underneath. Newly furnished, a faint furniture polish aroma, and photographs of their equipment hung on the wall as if they were fine pieces of art. There were even fresh cut flowers on his desk.

  “My new office,” Adam said, proudly. “There will be an announcement soon about my father retiring.”

  “Oh, right.” Sophie looked around, dumbfounded, while Adam poured coffee from his very own coffee machine, freshly made. He handed her a cup. “Please take a seat.” He gestured to the table.

  She sat, cradling the coffee mug, warm in her hands, as Adam joined her.

  “Do I need to take notes?” she asked, aware she’d not brought a notepad or pen with her. Adam shook his head and talked business, explaining the meeting, running through his pitch for Jerrisons’ large contract. No mention of the weekend, his mum, nothing. Anxiety rose up Sophie’s spine, dreading how to tell him she was leaving.