Page 43 of The One That I Want

Ewan laughs. ‘Remy likes having me around a lot more than when I worked in private equity. Less doggy daycare, more home time.’

‘I’d like to meet him.’

It’s only after the words are out of my mouth that I realise what I’ve said – and worse, what itimplies.

‘I’m sure he’d like that,’ Ewan replies, not making too much of it.

Our mains arrive along with two glasses of wine, and conversation stalls as I take a bite of the ragu. It’s so delicious, I can’t restrain myself this time and I groan loudly.

‘I told you,’ he says, his eyes twinkling with a hint of self-satisfaction.

I swallow. ‘Sorry, I’m not usually so vocal about my dinner.’

He laughs. ‘No apologies needed. I’m sure the chef would love to hear you groaning with pleasure over the ragu.I’mcertainly okay with it.’

As I take in his words, my mouth gaping open, the atmosphere around us crackles with energy – like the moment right before a flash of lightning. Ewan watches me intently and I can tell he senses it too.

I drop my eyes to my plate and busy myself by twirling pasta onto my fork. In all other ways, this feels like the start of a friendship, but that moment? That was something else.

‘So, I hope you don’t mind me asking…’ he says, drawing my gaze again.

The moment of frisson has died, leaving me both relieved and disappointed – something to unpack later – and Ewan now seems to be hedging. After one aborted start, he says, ‘That man you were with earlier at the bar…’

Oh no, he saw me with Marcus.

Think, Greta!

‘Oh, just a work thing,’ I say deflecting with a half-truth. ‘Possible subject of an article I’m working on.’

Okay, that’s enough information.

‘About obsessions. For that man, it’s fitness and exercise.’

Stop talking, Greta.

Marcus may have been an arse, but I shouldn’t be spouting his business all over London. Although isn’t that exactly what I’m expected to do by writing about him?

‘I suppose it’s like anything really,’ Ewan replies, as if we’re having a normal conversation and I’mnotshouting at myself inside my head. ‘Obsession, I mean. It’s odd how often moderation gets a bad rap, how it gets labelled as “boring” and “safe”. My obsession with work was… unsustainable. That’s why I’ve given myself this year. My year of moderation…’ he says with a head tilt.

I regard him thoughtfully. He really is an insightful person. And I sense there’s some insecurity humming under the surface, perhaps him wondering if he’s done the right thing with his venture.

I lift my wine glass. ‘To your year of moderation,’ I toast.

He smiles easily and clinks his glass against mine. ‘To my year of moderation,’ he echoes.

As we sip, we lock eyes over the rim of our glasses.

I’m so glad I ran into Ewan. It’s nice to have a new friend.

12

POPPY

‘Oh, you are just the sweetest, most beautiful kitty in the world.’ Evie is lying on the floor petting an indifferent Saffron.

‘Please don’t tell her that,’ I say dryly. ‘She already has an ego the size of Buckingham Palace.’

‘But she’s so pretty! Aren’t you just the prettiest?’ she coos.

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