Chapter 27
27
F leur stirred her drink, watching as candlelight flickered against Patrick’s face. He was mid-story, something about a driver he’d encountered earlier in the week, gesturing slightly with his free hand while the other rested against his glass. ‘And then, get this, the bloke actually leans out his window and tells me I don’t know how to drive. As if he wasn’t the one doing twenty-five in a fifty while swerving across both lanes.’
Fleur laughed and tried to look interested, though her brain was only half-listening. Normally, she’d be fully engaged, teasing him about his dramatic retellings, and the banter would be bubbling back and forth, but all she could think about was the small box in her lap.
‘So, yeah. That was Tuesday,’ Patrick finished, shaking his head and taking a sip of his drink. ‘How about you? How was your week?’
Fleur coughed, forcing her thoughts back to the conversation. ‘Oh, you know. The usual stuff at work. A bit of a disaster with the training session, but Cassy and I managed.’
Patrick smirked. ‘Let me guess. I’ll go with the fact that the technology provided by the hotel let you down again or there was no parking, or both.’
‘Obviously. The usual disaster with the hotel not having the facilities it claimed.’
Patrick chuckled, tipping his chair back slightly. ‘That’s what happens when you’re a trainer for a living.’
‘Or maybe I’m the problem,’ Fleur said drily, taking a sip of her wine.
‘Nah, never.’ Patrick grinned.
Fleur rolled her eyes, but her heart was pounding. How was she supposed to just drop “will you marry me” into the conversation? Oh, by the way, Patrick, fancy making things permanent?
‘Speaking of disasters,’ Patrick continued, unaware of the emotional chaos going on in Fleur’s head, ‘I haven’t even thought about what I need for LA and Maui. I keep thinking, “I’ll do it at the weekend,” and then the weekend comes, and I’m too busy doing anything but that. I have to get my presentation done and dusted and sent off to them soon, too.’
Fleur bristled at the mention of the holiday and her very new plans for it. ‘I don’t know why you’re acting like you need to plan. You’ll pack about four T-shirts and a pair of shorts and call it done.’
‘You’re not wrong. I’m just looking forward to it now. It’s been a while since I’ve had a proper break.’
Fleur nodded and she gripped her glass. He had no idea. The idea of asking him to marry her suddenly felt more than gigantic or huge or anything. It felt monstrous and ridiculous, and she felt like an idiot . It had seemed so clear in her head, but now, sitting there, watching him, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get the words out or even if she wanted to. She was certain she was barking up the wrong tree. What in the name of goodness did she think she was playing at?
Patrick waved his hand in front of her face. ‘Fleur?’
Fleur blinked, realising Patrick was watching the look on her face intently and had clearly clocked that something was off. ‘Sorry.’
‘Are you okay? See, I knew it. You’re acting all out of sorts.’
Fleur willed herself to be normal. ‘Yeah. Just thinking about everything we need to sort before we go.’
‘Like what?’
Like whether or not I’m about to completely change our entire relationship dynamic by asking you to marry me. She shrugged. ‘Just the usual. Making sure we’ve got all the travel stuff sorted, double-checking we haven’t forgotten anything, finishing and finalising things at work. We’ve still got a while to go but I like to be very organised.’
Patrick tilted his head slightly. ‘Are you sure that’s all that’s on your mind?’
Fleur picked up her drink again, taking another sip to buy time. ‘Of course. What else would there be?’
Patrick squinted as if he didn’t quite believe her, but before he could say anything else, their food arrived. Alice beamed and placed two steaming bread bowls in front of them, the tops cut off and resting on the side of the plates. The thick, creamy chowder inside smelled incredible, rich with seafood and herbs, the steam curling into the dim light.
‘Oh, this looks so good.’
Fleur was grateful for the distraction. ‘I’ve been thinking about this chowder all day.’
‘Same.’
Fleur dipped her spoon into the creamy broth; it was ridiculously good, perfectly seasoned, velvety, packed with fish and prawns, and just what she’d come to expect from a deli speakeasy. She closed her eyes for a second, letting the flavours settle.
‘That good?’ Patrick teased.
‘Never gets old.’
Patrick laughed, and Fleur’s mind drifted back to the question of the day. Maybe she could say something simple. Something easy, but then did she really want it to be casual? It wasn’t just any old question. Nope, it was the question.
Patrick glanced up. ‘You’re definitely acting weird. You’ve hardly said a word now I come to think about it. I’ve been rambling on about my week and you’ve not said much.’
Fleur coughed. ‘I am not acting weird.’
Patrick pointed his spoon at her. ‘You are. You keep looking at me like you’re about to tell me I’ve got two weeks to live. What is going on? Is there something wrong with Luce? Oh, for the love of God, not Ben again…’
‘Nope.’
‘Are you planning something?’
Fleur’s heart just about stopped. ‘Like what?’
Patrick narrowed his eyes. ‘I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. But you are up to something.’
Fleur shoved another piece of bread in her mouth. ‘Honestly.’
Patrick wiped his mouth with a napkin. ‘Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out eventually.’
Fleur swallowed, nodding. ‘I’m sure you will.’
As she sat there, Fleur’s heart raced. The words were stuck to the roof of her mouth. She just couldn’t get herself to actually say them. Best laid plans.