Page 35 of A Copenhagen Snowmance
The move brings them to a new window and an array of more cakes.
“Which one have you got your eye on?” he asks, and she can almost hear him salivating. He might be buff and fit, but Jamie has a sweet tooth. He’s happy to put away his fair share of treats. She likes that.
“Othello cake for me,” she states, looking at the macaroon-based cake, with layers of custard and thin vanilla sponge, topped with chocolate icing, with a marzipan collar. “Or maybe a Karen Blixen.” The cake with its coffee mousse and mocha truffle with roasted hazelnuts, all on a chocolate sponge base, looks to die for. Now she’s in a dilemma.
He leans in to look closer at the window, too, his body alongside hers. Anna doesn’t move away. In fact, she might lean a fraction closer in. Well, like he said, her ears are cold…
“I think I’m having theSportskage, simply because “Sports Cake” feels like an oxymoron. Whoever called it that was having a laugh.”
At last, it’s their turn to be seated, and they are led into the vintage room, with its dark wood furniture, green upholstery and pink walls. Anna is sure it’s looked the same since it opened in 1870. Jamie, behind her, places his hand on her shoulder as they steer through the room.
“Hej, Anna,” someone says as they pass a table, and she draws up short. The couple at the table are Carl’s colleagues. They’ve been guests in Anna’s house for dinner many times, and Anna realises there’s a whole extra layer of people she hadn’t even thought of, on her list of people she wants to avoid.
“Rasmus, Mette,hej,” she says weakly as the couple gaze up at her, then to Jamie and back to her.
“It’s been a while,” Mette says with a smile, then it fades as she remembers why. Maybe she doesn’t know the ins and outs of what happened, but she knows about the split.
“Ja,” agrees Anna with a flat smile. She suddenly imagines them gossiping between themselves as to why Carl moved out. It’s the same image she’s played many many times in her head, with various permutations of friend groups, all speculating at first then getting wind of the truth– or Carl’s version of it– and discussing that, too. The pain in her chest from eighteen months ago is suddenly back. It’s just the tight cringing pain, though– it isn’t the additional debilitating ache of heartbreak, which came with missing and longing. She definitely doesn’t long for Carl anymore. So, this is pure shame and humiliation. Is that progress?
“Hej.Jamie,” she hears him say next to her, and sees him stretch out his hand to Rasmus and Mette, who introduce themselves in return. Anna sees what he’s doing and leans into him. Well, it’s more of a slow slump, but the effect is enough for Mette, who is now looking at Jamie with renewed interest.
Right, thinks Anna, let’s do this. She slides her hand into Jamie’s. He gives a light squeeze to confirm they’re “on”.
“It was good to see you,” she says, summoning up a big smile, “God Jul.” Turning, she beams at Jamie. “Shall we sit,skat?” It’s been a long time since she’s called anyone her treasure.
In her head, they’ll now walk away into the back of the café, far away from Rasmus and Mette, but to her dismay, the waitress is standing at a vacant table just on the other side of them, talking distance, in fact. Bugger.
They sit and unpeel themselves from their many layers.
“OK?” Jamie says under the guise of wedging coats onto a spare seat.
“Carl’s colleagues,” she fills him in.
“Excellent,” says Jamie. There is something in his expression, something new. Mischief? He offers his hands to her across the table, palms up. Looking at him, she sees he’s gazing lovingly at her.Right.She places her hands in his and he clasps them, running both his thumbs over her skin.
“All right?” he asks, still doing the gazing thing.
“Sure,” she says. His hands are warm and just that right blend of soft but worn enough to have seen some graft.
“I think they need something to talk about when they report back to Carl.”
It makes Anna gulp.
It makes Jamie grin. It is quite… devastating.
“Trust me?” he clarifies and all she can do is nod.
The waitress comes and takes their order, and as she leaves, Jamie moves his chair around to sit closer to Anna. They have their backs to Rasmus and Mette but are perfectly in their eyeline.
Jamie is back to looking at her and Anna chooses to bask in it. Why not? She lifts her chin to meet his gaze, affording Rasmus and Mette a perfect view of their profiles.
He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, then trails his fingertips back down to her jaw and along to her chin, all the while Anna feeling the heat rise in her skin to his touch and also between her thighs. She sees his pupils widen. Bloody hell, how does he do that on command? She’ll have to ask him later, but in the meantime, she focuses on softening her gaze at him. It isn’t hard. It comes quite naturally, in fact. Maybe she’s a better actress than she thinks, too.
He tips her chin up even more, his eyes releasing hers and gliding down her face to her lips. Her eyes immediately follow suit to his.
They are good lips, she thinks and not for the first time. Neither too wide nor too thin, plump but not rubbery, just right. And right now they make for a fabulous all-in smile. Nothing measly there.
“Hold on tight,” he whispers to her, which makes heat shoot up through her body.
