Page 17 of A Perfect Devon Pub
‘Josh, could you give me a moment with the sommelier? I’d like to see the cellar,’ said Ru.
‘No worries, mate.’
Keeping her face down, Fiona sidled past Josh, retrieved the key and led the way to the cellar, all the while conscious that Ru was mere inches behind her. If she stopped in her tracks,his chest would but up against her back. Would his arms snake around her waist? Would his face nuzzle into her neck and murmur ‘Mousse’ into her ear? She reached the cellar, unlocked it and stood aside to let him pass, then closed the door behind her – she didn’t want anyone overhearing them. Fiona switched on the light and took a steadying breath, telling herself to be strong. She was determined she hadn’t endured the last five weeks of sorrow in vain. She must not let him sweet talk her into changing her mind.
Fiona padded down the steps. Stopping at the bottom, she kept her head bowed. She couldn’t look at him and risk seeing those eyes she loved. ‘What are you doing here, Ru?’
‘You blocked my calls. I had to see you; explain why I did what I did.’
She sighed; Fiona didn’t want to listen to Ru claim his motive wasn’t his own career. She would never match his talent or his success; but what hurt was realizing he never truly believed in her own abilities or her vision for that new restaurant, and instead of confronting her directly, he’d gone behind her back to the investors. His admission still burned. And if she stayed with Ru? He’d either find someone more talented eventually, or worse, she’d hold him back, becoming the compromise he silently resented. ‘I’m not sure I want to hear your explanation.’
‘Please. I agonised over this all the way driving back up to London without you. I get how this must look to you, that you think I went behind your back—’
Her head snapped up. ‘Because that’s exactly what you did.’
‘But I did it for you ...’ he pleaded.
Her jaw fell slack. This was worse than she imagined. ‘For me?’
‘I knew you weren’t ready for that exam; I was trying to protect you. I’m sorry, I was wrong, I should have talked it through with you.’ Too dazed to reply, she listened as Ru rambled on. ‘And I guessed that’s why you turned me down and I get it, but I mustput this right between us. I can’t concentrate. Ben’s even had to take over organizing my new kitchen ...’
There it was again, that word: ‘my’. A small word which punched above its weight. She knew right then that she’d made the right decision. ‘I just know we aren’t right for each other, Ru,’ she spluttered, keeping her eyes away from his handsome face.
‘Hey,’ he whispered. ‘Look at me.’
She couldn’t look at him, not while the sight of him still sent an aching shudder of desire through her body. ‘Mousse,’ he said again, ‘please look at me.’
She lifted her face.
He smiled at her and raised his voice. ‘That’s better.’
‘Keep your voice down,’ she hissed.
‘You’re wrong. I know weareright for each other, and I’m here to win you back. I still love you and I know you love me. Is this about your failed exam? Or your debts? Who cares about them?’
His words hit her like a punch in the stomach. She was a failure in his eyes and always would be. Somehow, she had to convince him to listen to her – she needed to set him free to meet the right woman, someone worthy of his love.
‘Ru, you just don’t get it.Icare. The whole world cares. Without that qualification, I’m nothing.’
‘Stop this nonsense. It’s a piece of paper. Rose and George don’t care that you’re not a member of the CMS.’
‘This is a pub in Brambleton, not a Michelin-starred London restaurant. When I am in the CMS I can command a proper salary in a proper restaurant.’
He rushed on, his voice thick with emotion. ‘We don’t need it. Let’s just be together. I’ll take care of you.’
She felt a hot spurt of frustration. He simply wasn’t listening. ‘I don’t want to be taken care of!’ With her heart pounding, she dredged her mind for a way to get him to back off. He wasn’t listening to her real reasons, so she’d have to invent somethinghe would believe. She swallowed and summoned all the grief and pain that had built up over the last five weeks. Then she leaned towards him and whispered, ‘I was only staying with you for the money, so you could fund my exams.’
His face crumpled. She heard him inhale loudly, then his voice, gruff and tinged with anger, filled the room. ‘And I was only with you because I felt sorry for you. You’re right – you are a failure, and I want my money back. I can do so much better than a washed-up waitress.’
Finally. The truth. Even though he’d finally said the words she always dreaded, it hadn’t made her hate him. His words were like a splinter pulled from flesh. Painful – oh, so painful – but with the promise of respite to come. There was relief in knowing she was right all along. Fiona exhaled, sensing her frustration subside.
‘So will you go back to London, please?’
He hesitated. ‘No. That’s not fair on George and Rose. I’ve promised to work here as the sous chef. Anyway, Ben’s in charge in London. We’ll just have to find a way to work together.’
‘Strictly professional?’
‘Of course,’ he said – too fast, too sharp.
