Chapter 10
Ten
“Welcome back to Charlie’s, ma’am. We’re honored to have you as our guest today.
If you’d please follow me, Mr. Walsh is expecting you,” the ma?tre’d says as he leads me through the main dining room to a private room in the back of the club.
It’s Tuesday afternoon the following week, and time for my date with Eric.
Falling back a half step, I joke to Art, “Did you need to do a perimeter sweep?”
“No, ma’am. Angela did it.” His tone is short and clipped.
I don’t understand why he’s changed so much from the other night. Haven’t we gotten past this? I don’t think he’s hangry. I make a mental note to myself to ensure that both Angela and Art are treated to whatever they want for lunch.
“Here we are, the Garden Room.” The door opens, and I’m greeted by the scent of fresh flowers. There are dozens of arrangements incorporated into a living wall, with a water feature as the centerpiece. It’s one of my favorite rooms in the club.
I wonder if I could create something like this in my own flat.
The only tricky bit would be figuring out how to incorporate the plumbing into the wall.
I’d need an existing connection to the water main.
I can’t see my parents approving the extra cost of adding it since it’s only for aesthetic purposes.
If I did a smaller-scale project, I wonder if I could use the external plumbing from a fish aquarium.
I store all those thoughts away for later. At the only table in the center of the room is Eric. He stands up so quickly that his chair topples over. I bite back my laugh.
“Alice, you made it!” he says.
“I did.” I smile.
“Ma’am, I’ll be just outside the door if you need me,” Arthur murmurs flatly before he leaves me.
“Okay,” I say without turning around.
I approach the table. Eric quickly picks up his chair and rushes around to the other side, beating the ma?tre’d to pulling out my chair for me. “I’ve got it,” he insists.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“You’re welcome.”
“Here are your menus. If you don’t see anything you’d like, please let either myself or your server know—”
Eric abruptly cuts him off. “We’ve been here before. We know the drill.”
I frown. There’s no need to be rude about it. The ma?tre’d clenches his jaw, but remains professional. Just before he departs, I touch his arm. “Sorry, but can you please see to it that my detail receives lunch too? Charge it to my brother’s account, please.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you so much.”
I reach for my water and take a long sip. It’s refreshingly cold and infused with fresh cucumber.
“How have you been?” Eric unrolls his napkin and places his utensils on the table.
“Busier than normal. We’ve had Trooping the Colour, the Order of the Garter Ceremony, the Royal Windsor Horse Show, all packed into the last two weeks. At least after this, we’ll have some breathing room as things slow down. How about you?”
“Nothing that exciting. Just work. I reviewed accounts and spent this past weekend helping my dad on his narrowboat.”
“Oh, is he a keen sailor?”
“Not exactly.” Eric reaches for his water. “Dad retired a year ago. Mum was so fed up with him lazing about the house that she told him to find a hobby, or she’d divorce him.”
My mouth drops open. “What?”
“Oh, don’t worry, it was an empty threat.
Mum would never divorce Dad.” He chuckles.
“But he did read Mum’s threat as permission to buy an old narrowboat.
He’s always talked about wanting to learn how to sail.
That type of vessel is supposed to be one of the most user-friendly for novices like him. ”
“Uh-huh.”
Eric shares a little more about his parents with me.
Like him, his dad was an accountant, while his mum is an IT consultant.
He tries to be polite and ask about my parents too, but there isn’t much I can share with him that isn’t already public knowledge.
Not to mention he knows my brother better than most people from their time in the army.
From the vibes Eric is giving off, and based on his friendship with Eddie, I think I can trust him, but I’m still nervous about it.
I’ve been burned before. After graduation from sixth form, some of the girls who were in my class sold stories and information about me to the tabloids.
I thought I knew them well enough that they’d respect my privacy.
But apparently not. Money has a way of getting people to reveal where their true loyalties lie.
“Hiya, I’m Elise. I’ll be assisting you this afternoon.” The arrival of our server gives us both a moment to collect our thoughts. We order drinks—a gin and tonic for me, and a whiskey sour for him—and the potato wedges and artichoke dip appetizer to split.
“Hold on a moment,” Eric says. The server stops and returns to the table. “You know what, we’d like to order our entrees now too, so you won’t have to interrupt us again. When the dishes are ready, just leave the cart here, and we’ll help ourselves.”
The server’s eyebrows twitch, but like the ma?tre’d, she doesn’t say anything. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll have my usual order. The culinary staff will know what that is. Just tell them it’s for Eric Walsh.”
“And you, ma’am?”
“I’d like the club sandwich and an order of chips, please.” I shoot her a silent apology. “Sorry if this is any trouble for you.”
She nods to me and swiftly leaves the room.
“Eric, you didn’t have to be so rude to her.”
“The waitstaff is paid well for what they do. All I did was make a request.” He brushes me off, picking up his water glass.
I bite down on my tongue and remain silent. I don’t want this date to get off to a bad start, but Eric is not doing himself any favors with me.
“So how did you end up wanting to become an engineer? It seems like it’s an ambitious degree.”
“It is,” I admit. “When I was a child, I always loved reading about the ancient Romans. I was fascinated by how they had to literally invent solutions to solve problems, like carrying water over large distances. First, they had to come up with the arch, a shape that was strong enough to support the weight of the water. Then, they needed to invent concrete, a material that was light, yet strong. But the best bit was the maths they came up with to calculate the angles of the rises and falls of the . . .”
It’s easy for me to get carried away about all this.
Heat floods my body, and I abruptly change subjects.
“Er, sorry. The short answer to your original question is that I love the idea of how I’ll be able to use my skills to solve a complicated problem.
” Reaching for my water glass, I take a long drink.
The cold water soothes my throat and helps lower my burning body’s temperature a degree or two.
“Don’t apologize,” Eric says. “It’s refreshing to see that you’re going for a degree doing something you love.
” Hearing him say that helps quell some of my earlier concerns about him.
“There were a number of blokes in my accounting program that were only studying finance because it’s a lucrative career.
I’m sure most of them are miserable in their day jobs. ”
“Are you one of those chaps?” I ask curiously.
“Guilty as charged. I followed in my father’s footsteps because he wanted me to take over his firm.” He sighs. “Given the choice, I would’ve preferred to do something with photography.”
“Oh, what type of photography? Portraits? Landscape? Animals?”
“Landscapes, specifically up toward Scotland. The moors and dales are my favorite places to hike through and capture during the early morning.”
That sounds so romantic. There’s a lightness in my chest. I can picture the golden rays of the sun casting a soft glow on a field of lavenders.
When Eric shares a part of his authentic self with me, I find him charming.
But in my head, a red-flag alert is still blaring.
How can a man be so rude to the waitstaff and yet so sweet to me?
I’m so confused. Just what type of a person is he?
We chat a little more about how he got into photography and how he’s recently started to teach himself how to edit and retouch images with professional software. By now, we’ve finished our appetizers and moved on to our entrees.
“What about you, Alice? Tell me a little more about what you like to do in your spare time when you aren’t in the public eye,” Eric says, popping a chip into his mouth.
“If you were to ask Eddie, he’d tell you I’m predictably boring. I spend most of my free time reading, watching SearchTube videos to get ideas for DIY projects, or riding my horses.”
“None of those are boring, especially when it concerns horses. I assume you have at least one?”
“I have two. They’re both Irish Sport Horses. What about you? Do you keep any horses?”
“I do, actually. He lives at my parents’ home in Kent. I have a ten-year-old Norfolk Trotter, but he acts like a spoiled two-year-old.”
We share a laugh and fall into an easy conversation about horses, becoming so engrossed in our discussion that three hours pass by in a flash.
Eric glances at his watch. “Whoa, we’d better get going if we’re going to have time to squeeze in a ride! It’s nearly three.”
“Already?” I blink a few times in shock.
“Uh-huh.” He runs a hand through his hair.
He’s rolled up his shirtsleeves, exposing a pair of tanned forearms. It’s a good look on him.
I’ll have to add that to the list of things I find attractive in a guy—a man who rolls up his sleeves.
“Amanda arranged for us to take a ride around the Rotten Row at Hyde Park. Is that something you’re still interested in?
Or would you rather we stay here and keep chatting? ”
I chew on my lip. As tempted as I am to stay here, I’ve had enough sitting for one day. My back is a little tight, but a little riding is something I will never say no to. Unless my body is screaming at me to rest. “Riding would be brilliant.”