Page 66 of Slow Burn Summer

“To Jojo,” she said, touching her flute to Charlie’s.

He nodded, looking as if he’d like to say something but didn’t trust himself to speak.

“Right,” she said. “You grab a seat so no one else snags the best table and I’ll go chase up the chef.”

Champagne in hand, she plated the steaks with the salad and green beans. During the course of her marriage she’d hosted countless parties and business dinners, and in that moment she was grateful to all of those nights in the kitchen for making her secure in the knowledge that the steak she was serving Charlie was exactly as he’d asked for. She wanted to impress him tonight, for the food to take his mind someplace other than down melancholy avenues.

Sudden, unexpected nerves shivered through her veins as she straightened her dress and smoothed her hands over her hair. Along with the rest of the nation, she’d caught the sun in recent weeks, a fresh smattering of freckles across her nose, a hint of gold on her shoulders. She looked date-ready. It wasn’t a date, but the fact was she’d just cooked dinner for a crazy-handsome guy, and now she was planning to sit down and enjoy an evening by the river with him. For one night only, they were just going to be Kate and Charlie, eat steak and drink champagne, and try to give each other something to smile about.

“This looks amazing,” he said as she placed the food down and took her seat.

“I know it does,” she said, then laughed and accepted a refill of champagne.

“Even my father would have been hard pushed to find fault,” he said.

“Definitely not with the view,” she said.

“Definitely not.” His gaze lingered on Kate.

The steak was perfectly rare, the champagne chilled and delicious, and they spoke mostly of Jojo. Charlie shared memories of him as an over-competitive father; Kate told him how Jojo had changed her life overnight as a teenager.

“I’d only gone to the audition to keep my friend Sophie company, she was mad into acting,” Kate said. “She wasn’t suitable for the part, too short, and we were both too scared to say I hadn’t come to audition when he put me on the spot. Things went from there really, and everything just clicked into place.”

“I can easily imagine it,” Charlie said. “He always found a way to get what he wanted.”

“I wasn’t even eighteen at the time, I’d never met anyone like him before. He was a real dynamo, wasn’t he? I had to work myself up to every meeting with him.”

“My friends used to say the same thing,” he said. “Mine was never the house we hung out at, let’s put it that way.”

“You sound as if you were close, though?”

He nodded. “He was around the age I am now when he found himself widowed with an eight-year-old son and the agency to run. I don’t know how he kept everything together-looking back, but he did his best.”

“A case of having to, for you, I suppose,” she said. “Kids make you strong, even when you feel anything but.”

“Credit where it’s due, Fiona helped us a great deal over the years,” he said. “I know she seems tough, but her heart is in theright place. It was hard for her when she lost Bob, and I know she’s struggled without my father.”

The snippet of behind-the-scenes insight into Fiona added yet another facet she hadn’t seen before. No less scary, but multifaceted. Like everyone, really.

“She seems career-driven, similar to your father?”

“I honestly don’t think she knows who she’d be without it,” he said.

“Does that make you feel as if you have to stay around to fill Jojo’s shoes?”

“As if I could,” Charlie said, refilling their glasses as they decamped inside to the sofa. “It was just so sudden, losing him like that. My big, busy life had already shrunk down to just the two of us, and now it’s just me.”

His voice thickened with loss, and Kate placed an instinctive hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay to be emotional,” she said. “You lost someone you love. And today is his birthday.”

Charlie didn’t reply, his gaze fixed on the river beyond. She studied the way his dark hair fell forward over his brow, the setting sun scattering rose-gold glitter in his whiskey-cola eyes. He was the kind of guy who stood out in a crowd, and the effect he was having on her champagne-honest mood was intoxicating.

“How old would he have been today?”

“Seventy.”

“Wow, a big birthday.”

---