“Yes, I’ve been thinking about you a bit,” I admit.
“Nice.” He’s still smirking. “So when have you been thinking about me? Day or night?”
I laugh, opting for the truth.
“Both.”
He laughs at that, and fastens his seat belt.
“Ditto.”
He starts up the engine and we hit the road.
I have no idea where we’re going, just that we’re travelling towards Worcester. I don’t care. I could sit with him for a lifetime, watching the world roll by outside. We pass the city and keep going. It’s when we turn up towards Droitwich, along Suckley Road, that I wonder if he’s picked out one of the best known restaurants in the county. The extravagant beauty of Quentin Manor.
Yes, he has.
My heart soars.
He parks up and I wait in my seat until he opens my door and offers a hand. I take it and get to my feet, remembering his touch. I’m already desperate for more.
“Anthony Bradstone,” Ant says to the restaurant manager once we’re inside, and he shows us to our seats.
It’s stunning in here. Candelabras, rich white tablecloths and vintage chairs, with glorious old artwork all over the walls. Ant sits down opposite me and relaxes like he’s at home.
“You’ve been here before?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. It comes with a great reputation, though.”
“Yep, it does,” I say. “It’s on my venue list, at the very top end.”
“How about you? Have you been here before?”
“Not before tonight,” I tell him. “I’m still learning the ropes at the branch. I only moved here a few weeks ago.”
“From Berkshire. Bucklebury, right?”
He must see the surprise on my face and smiles.
“It’s on your planning website. You’re still showing on there as being based in the Berkshire branch, by the way. You may want to get that updated.”
“I’ll get Fiona onto that. I didn’t know.”
I’m still looking at the drinks menu when a waitress heads over. She’s a gorgeous woman, auburn hair swept up in a neat bun, smiling at him like he’s a god. He doesn’t seem to notice, though. His eyes are all on me.
I take the safe option tonight. “I’ll have a mineral water, please.”
“Same for me,” Ant says. He looks over at me when she walks away. “Not going to start on the De Chante just yet?”
I shake my head. “No, thank you. It’s not my usual style to get that trashed, I promise.”
“That’s a shame,” he laughs.
I laugh along. “I have an event in the morning. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.”
“I see. Don’t worry, I’ll get you home in time to get a good night’s sleep.”
I feel the disappointment, hating how I might just have spoiled the chance of spending another night with him. There is no chance to remedy that before the waitress is back, not that I’d know what to say to reverse that anyway.
“Here you go, thank you,” she tells us, then holds up her notepad for our food order.
I order carrot puree with cheese, and Ant orders a salad. Main is an easy choice for me. I go for the mushroom wellington, Ant orders crayfish.
Fuck, I already like him so much. I fancy him so much my nerves are jangling.
My professional side takes over as the scared princess in me runs away, scared of daring to hope and dream. It feels too soon to even imagine finding a happily ever after now that Jack is enjoying his with someone else. The thought of being smashed on the floor again gives me shivers.
I keep hold of the part of me which feels safe, keeping to a basic conversation.
“So, you’re an investment banking director? That sounds intense.”
He brushes it off with a wave of his hand, his smirk still strong.
“Sounds boring most likely, unless you’re into it. I spend most of my time in Berlin. I have a great team there. But that’s for another day, I hope.” His green eyes are gorgeous. “Right now it’s all about you. Tell me about you.”
I wish I’d have taken the De Chante option as I try to relax into myself. Luckily, he makes it easy. His questions come fast and genuine, digging into my life and my world and my everything.
The conversation flows naturally, right the way through dinner. He learns about Bucklebury and how I grew up there with Sarah and my parents. I tell him how Sarah is married to David, and I have a nephew called Harry.
“He’s such an amazing little guy.”
“I’ll bet he is. How old?”
I grin, picturing Harry’s face. “He’s seven in a few weeks. Growing up so fast.”
“Your sister’s been married a long time, has she?”
“Eight years already. David’s been her friend since she was five. They crossed the line as soon as they knew what the line was, and it’s lasted ever since.”
“I always wished I’d find a love like that,” Ant tells me. “Some people are luckier on that score than others.”