Page 27 of Wanting Mr Black

We talk more about me – my work, my parents, Dad and his painting. Barbara wells up when I tell her about losing Dad, and she gives my hand a reassuring pat. She’s warm and kind, and it’s clear she loves the bones of her family. Although I was so nervous to begin with, I’m really glad to have had this opportunity to get to know her better. Of course she wanted to find out what kind of woman her son was involved with – any mother would, especially if the son had a childhood as troubled as Art’s. I’m thankful when he begins to relax, and by the end of lunch, he’s back to his normal self.

We leave the restaurant, give Barbara a lift to Green Park tube station, and say our goodbyes.

“I told you, you had nothing to worry about,” Art says as he pulls into traffic.

“Do you think I’ve got your mum’s approval then?” I’m only half-joking. I want Barbara’s approval.

“I think she’d adopt you if she could.”

I laugh. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious. When you popped to the ladies', she was going on and on about how lovely you were, like I didn’t already know.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” I tease.

He smirks. “Okay, well, I’m sure I can think of something else to impress you when we get back home.”

I smile to myself and look out the window. I can’t deny I’m relieved this afternoon went perfectly. Only one thing dampens the memory. I take a deep breath and decide to broach the subject.

“Are you okay?” I ask, glancing at him.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” He looks at his watch and flashes a wicked grin. “I’m twenty minutes away from being inside you.”

Lord help me.

My body tingles in response to his words. I press my lips together and drag my eyes back to the window. It’s like he knows what I’m about to say, and he’s trying to distract me. Maybe he is.

“I mean, after this afternoon, with your mum and the photos.”

A muscle twitches in his jaw. He keeps staring directly ahead.

“You seemed upset,” I press.

“I wasn’t upset.”

“You seemed it.”

“I wasn’t upset,” he says firmly.

This is hard work. It’s obvious he’s not ready for me to prod any further.

“It’s just … I said before, I’ll be here for you whenever you’re ready to talk.” I look at him. “And I meant it.”

His jaw works as he reaches over and places his hand on top of mine. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “And I will. In time.”

Fourteen

I’m woken up by the sound of the front door slamming, and I’m glad to see the glorious July sunshine pouring through the windows. Thankfully, the weather is sticking to the reports, and it’s going to be hot and sunny, as predicted, for Lucy and Mark’s special day.

I twist my head and look at the bedside clock. Ten past nine.

Shit.

I need to get up, get my things, and head over to the hotel. If I’m late, Lucy will kill me. Even though she seemed totally preoccupied the other day, I know she still won’t tolerate her maid of honour being late on her special day.

“My sleeping beauty’s still in bed, I see.” Art props himself against the doorframe, wearing black running shorts and a white T-shirt.

He’s far too perky in the morning, and it’s annoying.

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