Page 55 of Dr. CEO (The Doctors)

“And it’s not like it’s going to turn into anything serious. Don’t start wedding planning. I’ll probably hate him after spending a nonstop two hours in his company.” That is unlikely to be true. The more I get to know Vincent, the more time I spend with him, the more I like him. Yes, I am attracted to him—the guy is hot, there’s no denying it. But I like his mind, the way his brain works. He’s focused on the bottom line, on profits and his investment. But he’s also a man who stays true to his word and has a sense of responsibility to Crompton and the people here. I can’t help but like him more for seeing that side of him.

“Just enjoy yourself. Are you going into Cambridge?” she asks.

I scoff. “We’re going to the Golden Hare.” That’s what Vincent said, wasn’t it? He knows I don’t want to leave the estate.

Granny visibly deflates.

“What? I know the menu and I’ll have all my nutritional requirements satisfied.”

Granny raises an eyebrow. “Is that what they’re calling it now?”

Did I mishear her? “What did you say?”

“Nothing. But why not venture into Cambridge?”

“Why would we? It’s nearly half an hour to get there. I don’t know the restaurants there and I’m not sure if I’ll like it.”

“It would be a nice change.”

“But it might not be. It might be an awful change.”

“If it is, it will only last two hours.”

“You keep telling me life is short. Why would I waste two hours—no, three hours, when you factor in travel—on the off chance something is nice, when I can get guaranteed nice when I’m at the pub?”

Granny looks down with an expression of disappointment.

“You don’t ever believe I’m happy at Crompton. I don’t need to leave. Everything I want and need is here.”

She shakes her head. I thought she’d be delighted I’m going on a date, which hasn’t happened in forever. “What did Vincent say when you said you wanted to go to the Golden Hare?”

“He was fine with it. Of course.”

“And if there’s a second date?” she asks. “You going to go to the tea shop?”

I roll my eyes. Of course we wouldn’t go to the tea shop. But I’m not sure where we would go and the idea needles me in my chest. “Marangon’s,” I say, talking about the Italian place in Watley.

“It closed two years ago,” Granny says.

“It did?”

She doesn’t answer, but picks up her knitting and starts again. “Basil was telling me all about a course he’s doing online. It’s live, in a virtual classroom.”

Thank goodness for the change in subject. “On Zoom?” I ask.

“Teams,” she says. “I think some of the schools did it like that during lockdown.”

“Yes, I think they did.” I resume scrolling through my phone.

“Means you don’t have to go anywhere, really.”

Something tells me we’ve not changed subject at all.

“And I was talking to Sacha, whose friend’s daughter, Aurora, did therapy online. Got to see one of the top psychologists and never left her sitting room. Apparently it was marvelous. She’d had a problem getting over an old flame. Therapy helped her tremendously.”

“Good for Aurora. Despite the fact she’s a perfect stranger to me, I’m happy for her. I really am.” My tone is sharp and defensive. I instantly regret it.

Granny’s needles continue to click clack in the silence between us.

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