Chapter 16
Connor opened the door to let his parents in. His dad gave him a perfunctory nod, his mum an absent-minded kiss on the cheek.
Both of them were more focused on finding their granddaughter than on greeting him. Their remoteness used to upset him, but
now he accepted it was just how things were. It was more important that they doted on Ellie.
“She’s watching TV,” he told them.
“No, I’m not!” Ellie poked her head around the door and gave them both a beaming smile. “Hello, Grandma and Granddad. Are
you looking after me ’cause Dad has to work?”
“Yes, honey.” His mum enveloped his daughter in a fierce hug. He sometimes told himself her disappointment in him was wrapped
up in the fact that she’d wanted a daughter after Matt. It hurt less that way.
“Why the late shift?” his dad asked after he’d tousled Ellie’s hair. Yes, his girl was so cute, so lovable, even his dad was
smitten.
“Covering for Freya’s holiday.” It was a lie, but Connor wasn’t ready to get into a conversation about the real reason he’d
swopped shifts with Freya to work tonight.
“I don’t like it when you work.” Ellie rushed up to him and threw her arms around his legs. “And tonight was supposed to be pudding-menu night.”
A couple of years ago, Ellie had wandered downstairs, not able to sleep, and found him in the kitchen experimenting with menus.
She’d been so interested, he’d let her stay up later than he should’ve, talking his thoughts through with her, enjoying the
way she watched him cook with wide, admiring eyes. From then on, once a week they sat in the kitchen together and worked on
menu ideas for the restaurant he was going to open. One day.
He crouched down to her height and hugged her tight. “We’ll do it tomorrow, Turnip, I promise.” He kissed the curls on top
of her head. “And I’ll bring back some leftover puds.”
Her eyes lit up. “Chocolate nemesis cake?”
Part cake, part mousse, it was her favorite. A fact he got a real kick out of because it was his creation. “If there’s some
left. And if Pat doesn’t mind.” Pat, head chef and restaurant manager, was in her early sixties and treated Ellie like an
honorary granddaughter.
Connor used the tube journey to Chiswick to catch up on his messages. There were a few on the football chat asking who was
going to training Saturday morning. As a five-a-side group, they didn’t take it too seriously. It was just a chance to let
off steam and indulge in locker-room banter for a couple of hours.
Tapping on his phone, he replied.
Plan to, if Ellie’s trampoline lesson is still on.
He received a round of thumbs-ups and a snarky reply from Zain:
We changed time to suit you so we’d better see you, bro.
Connor shook his head as he typed.
See message above.
Martin added to the message string.
Bring Ellie along. She’ll be a better goalie than Zain.
Zain: Funny.
Zain: Wait, that was a joke, right? You know I’m the best goalie you’ve ever had.
Dave: Best at letting goals thru your legs.
Zain: One time!!! And I was distracted by your sister . . .
Smiling, Connor left them to it and went to look at his other messages. He zeroed in on the one from Ashley.
Hi, not sure if you’ve remembered but I’m coming to the Palm Bistro at 7 p.m. Hope to see you xx
Connor gave a little shake of his head.
How could I forget? Been beefing up with dumbbells.
Ashley’s reply started with a laughing emoji.
Thank you but he’s fifty and an accountant. Plus you looked plenty beefy last time I saw you
The last time being in Nantucket, he thought with a pang of sadness. He took a moment to wish it were Olivia he was seeing tonight, another
to recall her face, those sharp eyes, the radiant smile she’d aimed his way when she’d risen to one his challenges, then pushed
the memories away. They’d resurface later, they always did, but for now he had a busy evening shift to focus on.
Pat greeted him with an indulgent smile when he walked into the bistro. Unassuming from the outside, inside the restaurant
was a funky industrial space that fitted the building. Brick walls, steel girders, wooden flooring. To soften the atmosphere,
there were large palm trees in planters and soft gray sofas at one end where customers could have a drink before or after
eating.
“Hey, handsome.” Heather, blond and flirty, breezed through the door after him. In her early twenties, she was one of the
waitresses. “Don’t often get our hottest chef doing the evening shift.”
“I take issue with that.” Aaron appeared from the office. “Evening, Heather.” He turned his focus to Connor and gave him a
speculative look. “I was talking to Felix the other day. Your name was mentioned.”
Connor’s stomach dropped like a stone. At school he’d been able to shrug off bad comments from teachers, but Aaron was different.
He idolized the man. Approaching fifty, Aaron was Connor’s inspiration, his teacher, and a man he’d be forever indebted to.
How many other restaurant owners would have taken a chance on a young upstart who’d listed his professional kitchen experience
as slicing fruit for cocktails?
What Aaron thought mattered.
Heart thumping, Connor looked Aaron in the eye. “Should I be worried?”
“We’ll talk later. How come you’re working tonight?”
Connor swallowed. “A woman I met in Nantucket is coming here—”
Pat gasped. “Olivia?”
Yep, he’d talked to her about Livvy. He’d had to talk to someone, and Ellie was too young, his football mates too male, and his parents too uninterested in him. “No, Livvy’s older sister
Ashley. She’s here on a first date with a guy she met on a dating app.”
“Ah, so we’re here to vet him. Got it.” Pat smiled. “And you’re hoping she’ll tell you her sister is miserable, that she’s
pining away for you and wishes she hadn’t turned down the chance to continue seeing you.”
He ignored Aaron’s questioning look. “Something like that.”
He didn’t wish Olivia were unhappy, but did he hope she regretted not taking his number? Fuck yes. Because he sure as hell
regretted not putting up more of a fight to get hers.
Connor looked up when Heather popped her head into the kitchen.
“That friend of yours, she’s just asked for the bill.”
“Thanks.” He checked round the kitchen, decided there was nothing that needed his immediate attention, and stepped out into
the restaurant.
“How was the meal?” He addressed both Tom and Ashley. Tom looked harmless, in his opinion, but the moment Connor had received
his limp handshake, he’d decided he definitely wasn’t right for her.
“Most enjoyable.” Tom nodded to him. “When Ashley suggested the venue, I didn’t realize she knew the chef.”
“One of them,” Connor replied. He looked over at Ashley and smiled. “But yes, I’ve had the honor of cooking for Ashley, drinking
with her, and dancing with her. She’s a special woman.”
“Quite, quite.” Tom gave him a wary smile.
Connor shot Ashley a glance and saw she was trying not to laugh.
“I’ll make sure she gets back okay,” Connor added, then stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, right, well.” Tom rose to his feet and gave Ashley an awkward kiss on the cheek across the table. “Thank you for the
date. It was very agreeable. I’ll . . . um . . . be in touch.”
He shuffled out and Connor parked his backside in the vacated chair. “Please tell me you won’t be seeing him again. You can
do way, way better than that.”
Ashley’s expression turned soft. “I’ve missed you, Connor.”
He laughed. “Come on, you know I’m right.”
“I know Tom was agreeable,” she said, mimicking Tom. “And the past two hours were about the longest of my life. But I’ve rejected ‘married and looking
for a bit on the side,’ a guy who owned his own business and thought that was reason enough for me to worship at his feet,
and two men over seventy looking for a companion to nurse them through their last ten years. Maybe ‘nice but dull’ is the
best a divorced forty-six-year-old can hope for.”
“Not when that forty-six-year-old is you.” He leaned back on the chair, a thought coming to him. “Are you in a rush to get
home?”
She gave him a sad smile. “Now that Sophie’s gone and her brother is at university, it’s just Hank and me at home. And, to
clarify, Hank is my very handsome tabby.”
“Then go and relax on one of our sofas. I’ll be back in a moment.” Connor waved over to Heather. “Can you get Ashley a glass
of whatever she wants? On me.”
Satisfied Ashley was being taken care of, Connor walked through the restaurant to Aaron’s office and knocked on the open door.
“Come in.” Aaron looked up from his desk. “Everything okay?”
“All good,” Connor assured him. He closed the office door, then hesitated. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Out with it.” Aaron sat back in his chair, hands behind his head. “You came to interview for a chef’s job with zero experience,
then told me you could work only during school hours.” Aaron gave him a wry smile. “I think you can say whatever it is that’s
on your mind.”
“There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Oh, no, no, no.” Aaron sat bolt upright. “To be clear, if you’re trying to set me up, that means no fucking way. I’ve only
just got out of the last relationship I was in. Not going there again. Ever.”
Aaron had recently been through a messy and painful divorce. Messy because his ex-wife had demanded crazy sums of money. Painful because she’d been the one who’d had an affair. “I’m not setting you up,” Connor said. “Ashley’s way out of your league.
I just thought you might want to meet a woman who’s come through a shit time like you have but who’s not hiding in an office,
wallowing in her own misery on a Friday night.”
Aaron hissed out a breath. “I can sack you, you know.”
Connor nodded. “I know. But you haven’t so far, so I figure I must be doing something right.”
With a deep sigh, Aaron stood up. “Fine.”
Connor winced. “Maybe lose the dad cardi? Cardigans are great but that’s not a good example of one.”
Aaron swore. “Remind me why I employed you again?”