Page 91 of All Wrapped Up
‘I’m good,’ I said, sitting down and looking at him. ‘Really good.’
Was it my imagination, or were his eyes even bluer than usual? Perhaps it was the fact that I was looking directly into them, rather than up at them?
‘Not still feeling out of sorts?’ he asked, his brows pushed together.
‘Not really,’ I said, looking around, ‘though…’
‘Though what?’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ I frowned, as I tried to put my finger on exactly what it was that was bothering me. ‘I don’t feel unwell exactly, but…’
‘Perhaps it’s nerves?’ Ash suggested.
‘Nerves?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you’re feeling jittery about handing out the awards.’
‘Oh yes,’ I said, latching on to the idea, because nerves would explain the apprehension, if not the confusion, ‘you might be on to something there.’
‘Everyone knows it’s happening today,’ Ash carried on, further strengthening his suggestion, ‘so it’s bound to draw quite a crowd and given your aversion to being the centre of attention, Clemmie—’
‘Yes,’ I cut in, ‘that’s it. Of course, that’s it. Phew! I’m feeling better already. Thank you, Ash.’
‘Hey,’ he shrugged self-deprecatingly. ‘That’s what friends are for.’
‘Quite,’ I said, as Pixie circled around my feet. ‘And we all need a friend, don’t we? I think Pixie has the jitters, too.’ I tutted.
‘I think Pixie is protesting to that coat you’ve made her wear again,’ Ash laughed back.
‘It’s a lovely coat.’ I pouted, pleased to have changed the subject. ‘She just needs to get used to it.’
Neither Ash nor Pixie looked inclined to agree.
‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘let me get you a drink and then we’ll get down to business.’
‘Is there business?’ I frowned.
‘Yes,’ he sighed. ‘There is a bit. What can I get you?’
‘Just a coffee, please,’ I requested as it felt too early for beer or wine.
He came back with my drink and a bowl of water for Pixie, which she noisily lapped at.
‘I hope there isn’t an issue with the public vote,’ I said, as Ash sat back down and finished the coffee he’d been drinking when Pixie and I came in. ‘It isn’t a tie, is it?’
I had been mulling over what he could possibly want to talk business about while I watched him at the bar and it was the only thing I could think of.
‘There is an issue with the public vote,’ he told me and I felt my shoulders tense up. ‘Though I have no idea whether it was a tie or not.’
‘Oh crikey,’ I said. ‘Go on. What’s happened?’
‘The ballot box has been stolen.’
‘What?’
‘The ballot box has gone. Someone must have taken it.’
‘What, the whole thing?’ I gasped and he gave me a look. ‘Sorry,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘Of course, you mean the whole thing.’
