Page 50 of Wanting Mr Black

“No! This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you’d think this,” she says crossly.

“Look at it from my point of view. You just got married, called it off, and now, you’re talking about some guy you met. Isn’t this all a bit fast?”

I thought Art and I had shifted quickly in moving in together, but Lucy’s beating us, hands down.

“I’d had my doubts about our relationship for a while, and so had Mark; it’s just neither of us had the balls to have the conversation. This guy and I have only talked. Twice.”

I roll my eyes. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“Yes, because it’s the truth.” She gives me a firm look. “We’ve just talked. We haven’t flirted or anything really. I don’t even know if he likes me like that. He’s divorced.” She heaves a sigh and stares down at her wine. “It was nice just to be listened to for a change.”

I feel bad. It’s clear she’s not been happy with Mark for some time. If I’d been paying attention, instead of caught up in my own affairs, I’d have known this. Who am I to tell her off for potentially finding happiness? Maybe I’m being harsh even though I still think she’s moving too fast.

I throw her a rueful look. “What’s he like?”

“You know him actually.”

My brain’s too tired for playing detective. “Who is it?”

“Big Steve – well, actually … it’s just Steve.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “Seriously?”

She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and looks oddly bashful. “One of the times he came to the hotel, we got to chatting on reception. I ended up getting called away because George needed help with something or other, but when I went back to the desk, he’d left a note with his number on it, telling me that he’d enjoyed talking to me and asking if we could meet up for a drink.”

Blimey, Big Steve’s smooth.

“So, what did you do?”

“I called him and explained I was getting married, so nothing could come of it, but we ended up talking for hours. It was nothing flirty. He talked a bit about himself and his divorce, and I told him about me.”

It sounds reasonably innocent.

“So, you like him then?”

The apples of her cheeks turn pink, and I don’t think it’s because of the wine.

“He’s nice.” She gazes wistfully off into the distance. “And big and burly.”

I feel it’s only right that I come in with some common sense here.

“Listen, I don’t want to be the one to rain on your parade, but it’s really early days, Luce. Your head’s got to be all over the place at the mo. Just because you’ve felt neglected by Mark, don’t do anything hasty.”

“I know, I know, but maybe a rebound is what I need now. Some excitement.” She drains her cup. “God knows I need it.”

Maybe she’s right.

What do I need at the moment?

I ponder that very question when I feel a nudge in my ribs.

“You and Art will be okay, you know.”

I shake my head. “I’m really not sure. Not this time, Luce.”

“You’ll overcome this hurdle because love conquers all.”

I suppress the desire to roll my eyes at her romantic nonsense. “He still hasn’t told me he loves me, and now, I realise why.” I glance at Lucy to find her watching me with a perplexed look on her face. “He can’t, can he? He’s kept things from me. I don’t really know him. I suppose I should be grateful he’s not enough of a hypocrite to say it when he’s keeping loads of secrets.”

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