Page 54 of Love from Pretty Beach
Darby stared into her gin and tonic, watching the ice cubes bob against a slice of lime. The second drink had definitely taken the edge off her day, though whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen. She could smell him. ‘Let’s leave it.’
'I brought you tiramisu.’
'You brought me tiramisu and then told me I was an entitled blow-in who thinks the place exists for my entertainment. One rather cancelled out the other.'
Archie winced. 'I shouldn't have said that.'
'But youdidsay it and I suspect you meant it, too.'
Archie turned his pint glass in slow circles on the bar. Darby had no idea where the conversation was going to go. Part of her was secretly enjoying herself. Someone at a nearby table was explaining the intricacies of local fishing regulations to his companion and the fruit machine in the corner kept playing its electronic tune every few minutes.
Archie held one hand up. 'I was angry about the video.’
'So you mentioned. What I don't understand is why you were quite so angry about appearing in a blurry video that most people wouldn't even notice.'
'It was the assumption.'
Darby frowned. 'What assumption?'
'That you could just film me and put me online without asking. That my privacy didn't matter.'
The gin was making Darby feel both more relaxed and more confrontational, an interesting combination. 'It was the Night Markets, Archie. You weren't exactly hiding in your bedroom. I'm struggling to understand why a grown man would get quiteso worked up about appearing in the background of someone's video about buying cheese and listening to folk music.'
‘I told you I don't do social media and then you put me in your content without even thinking to ask.'
'You weren't identifiable.'
'I was to people who know me.'
Darby could hear her own heartbeat. ‘I am sorry about not asking. I should have checked with you before posting anything.'
'Thank you.'
'But you were still horrible to me in the street.'
'I was.'
'And you called me entitled.'
'I did.'
Darby turned to look at him. 'Are you going to apologise for that bit?'
‘I’m sorry.’
‘So, what now? Do we pretend this never happened? Do we go back to polite nods when we pass each other in the street? Do you continue to avoid me whilst working thirty feet from my front door?'
'I haven't been avoiding you. I brought you cake.'
'Before that. You absolutely have been avoiding me. I saw you duck behind a van the other day when I came out of my gate. I just want to know where we stand so I can plan accordingly.'
'Plan accordingly?'
'Pretty Beach isn't exactly vast. We're bound to keep running into each other.'
'We could try being friends again.'
Darby nearly snorted into her gin. 'Friends! You arenota friend! We slept together multiple times. We’ve had dinners and conversations and you cooked for me and I have spent nights at your house. I don't think we can just rewind to beinganythinglike friends. Are you actually kidding me? It doesn't work thatway. At least, not for me.' Darby narrowed her eyes. Was he genuinely asking to be friends, or was he saying that so that if and when the occasion arose or when he was bored or lonely, he'd have someone to sleep with occasionally? Her track record with men suggested the latter was more likely. ‘Sorry, I don’tdofriends.’
