Chapter 8 #3
Blair jiggled the stool until there was just enough room for Emily to climb aboard. He brushed knees with her when he attempted to seat himself.
“Terribly sorry,” he apologized.
“Now I have an idea what a sardine feels like!” Emily snickered.
They were literally shoulder to shoulder, thigh against thigh, and it was perfectly fine.
Easy. Natural. A fleeting thought ran through Emily’s mind: Might he kiss me later?
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, an experience she hadn’t had felt since she couldn’t remember when.
Blair ordered two pints of lager then turned to her. “Fish and chips?” he asked.
“Or shepherd’s pie if they have it,” Emily suggested.
“Grand idea. And a side of chips.” Blair attempted to nudge her with his elbow, but they were already butting against each other. He decided to give her a side body nudge instead, which took no effort at all.
Emily thought it was sweet. Another check mark in the “date” column.
Several minutes later, two orders of the beef casserole topped with mashed potatoes arrived at their one-foot-square top of the bar.
Maneuvering their forks was like a game of Twister, with arms climbing over each other.
It was quite comical. When it came to snatching a chip, Emily went full finger grip and grabbed the fried potatoes with her hand.
“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked sheepishly.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Blair chuckled and plucked a chip for himself.
The din in the room was deafening, even from where they sat. Each time one of them said something, the other had to lean extremely close.
Emily suddenly blurted, “Beer breath!”
Blair jolted his head in surprise. “Terribly sorry.” Then he blew on his fingertips. “Yours or mine?”
Emily laughed out loud. “Both, I suppose.” She recalled a movie she saw where a couple was having dinner at a fine restaurant.
One ordered something very garlicky, and the other did the same, but not without declaring, “Self-defense!” She let out a soft chuckle.
The couple in the movie had been on a first date, she realized and blushed.
Blair looked at her and asked, “A penny for yer thoughts?”
”Just thinking how enjoyable today has been,” Emily admitted.
“I’m having a great time too.”
“Here’s to good times,” Emily toasted as she raised her glass.
“Hear, hear! May there be many more.”
When they finished eating, Blair gestured for the check and plunked his credit card on the bar. There was no question as to who was picking up the tab.
If it looks like a duck … walks like a duck … it’s a date, right?
After the bartender brought the tab and the card to the register, Emily placed her hand on top of his. “Thank you for humoring me.”
He turned toward her. His chest slightly brushed against hers. “Terribly sorry.” Blair apologized even though there was truly no way around it.
“No worries. Neither of us can jettison ourselves out the door.” Emily was smiling from ear to ear.
“I was chuffed to oblige. Thank you for including me.”
They disentangled themselves from the wooden stools while two other customers were ready to pounce on them, giving Emily and Blair little room to move away from the bar.
Blair maintained his ingrained politeness and continued to say “Terribly sorry” to everyone, as he guided Emily through the throng and out to the crisp, clear air.
Emily took in a deep breath. “This was quite lovely.”
“The crowd in there?” He jerked his thumb toward the pub and grinned.
“This adventure.” Emily cocked her head and gave him a warm smile.
Blair checked his watch. “It’s only eight. Care for a nightcap?”
“That would be splendid.”
Blair crooked his arm so Emily could easily slip hers through it. Crowds of people were still entering the market and the two of them were going against the traffic, so to speak.
As they dodged the oncoming pedestrians, Blair remarked, “Popular place, eh?”
“Indeed. I’m gobsmacked. It hadn’t occurred to me that several hundred people would have the same idea.”
They walked arm in arm for several blocks and came upon a quiet little pub. “This is more like it,” Blair said as he peeked through the window in the door before he opened it.
Several patrons were at the bar, but Blair motioned toward a low table toward the front. A young man greeted them. He looked like he could be a student with a part-time job. “Evenin’. What can I get ya?”
Blair looked at Emily. “What do you fancy?”
She pursed her lips, then said, “White Russian?” She enjoyed the cocktail made with vodka, coffee liqueur, and cream floating on the top.
“I shall have the same,” Blair added.
With the sound of Christmas music softly playing in the background, Emily noted, “This is quite the opposite of where we just came from.”
“The yin and yang of Christmas,” Blair said.
Emily had a bright smile on her face. “See, two philosophies can coexist. What a novel idea.”
Blair snorted. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. But you are correct.”
The bartender returned with their beverages.
They clinked glasses. “Here’s to a lovely late-afternoon.” Blair echoed Emily’s sentiments.
When they were finished they decided they were knackered and it was time to head back to their flats. Blair walked Emily to the front of her building, then he took her free hand and said, “I hope we can do this again. It was much more enjoyable than a mere cup of coffee.”
Emily lightly pecked the back of Blair’s hand.
How cheeky. Then Blair gently kissed the back of her hand.
Unsure of what his next move should be, he took a step back.
No gentle man would be so presumptuous to make any further moves.
Realizing how polite Blair was, Emily pulled him in for a warm hug, then lightly pulled away.
She thanked him again and went inside her building.
As she climbed the stairs to the second floor, she spotted Blair in the window of the front door.
She decided, Yep, he’s quite handsome. But now what?
The following morning, she decided to play it cool, but not too cool and sent a text:
Thanks again for an utterly delightful experience. I hope we can get together before holiday break. I’d love to hear about Edinburgh and the annual arts festival.
Emily knew a lot about the festival, but it was an excellent excuse. It didn’t take long for him to respond, which made Emily happy. Waiting for a reply can often be excruciating.
Absolutely. After my SQEs. Cheers!
He was prepping for the first of four tests needed to pass before becoming a solicitor.
Emily was preparing a paper on the three basic stages of medieval architecture, Pre-Romanesque, Romanesque, and Gothic, and their influence on art. Blair was correct: It was rather heady stuff and she needed to focus all her energy on it.