Chapter 19 Angie
ANGIE
“You’re such a star for taking Josh today, Connie. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem at all.” She packs Josh’s things in her giant bag, then picks up his car seat with minimum effort. “I’ll just fix this in my backseat.” She might be tiny, but Connie seems incredibly strong.
I scan over the boys playing in the garden, which is more like a giant sandpit. They’re hard at work digging a hole.
I focus on Ozzie for a moment, thinking how much he looks like his dad. He has the same tiny glint in his eye when he smiles. Watch out future women of Braebeach or prepare to have your heart broken by the mini rockstar.
“I think I’m all set now,” Connie says from behind me.
I swing around. “Oh, thanks.” Then I focus back on the little ones, who are giggling. It’s so cute.
I step outside, opening the garden gate. “Boys, come in now. Connie’s taking you out today.”
“Yay,” Josh squeals, running inside with his arms out to the side. Oz copies his exact move.
“Josh, take Ozzie and wash your hands, then we can load you both up.”
“Yes, Mummy.”
They nod in unison, and I watch them happily run off, and I hear Connie say, “Well, someone’s keen.”
Following her line of sight out the window to the front of the house, I see Fraser’s car pull up outside.
“Oh, no.” My stomach somersaults, and not in a good way.
“Are you expecting him?” Connie asks.
“No. I wasn’t.”
We had a lovely date and I relaxed a lot more after a few drinks, but I tried not to lead him on. There was no kiss at the end of the night unless you count a peck on the cheek.
Fraser gets out of the car and retrieves the biggest, most beautiful arrangement of white roses and lilies I’ve ever seen from his back seat.
Connie breathes out a whistle and turns to me. “Something tells me he likes you.”
“Shit. What am I going to do? Four dates are enough to know I’m not feeling it, surely. I mean, I’ve tried. I really have, but he just doesn’t do it for me.”
She raises her brow. “Then perhaps you should be honest and tell him the truth, except maybe a little less direct.”
“Oh, God. I hate being in this situation. He’s a lovely man.”
“But if you’re not feeling it, you’re not feeling it.”
I narrow my eyes towards her. “How are you so wise for someone so young?”
“I’m not wise. It just makes sense,” she says, shrugging her shoulders.
“Yes, you’re right.” I nod with some determination. “I’ve got to be honest with him, otherwise this could drag on forever.”
Connie turns around, pointing her thumb towards the door. “I’ll grab the boys and get out of your hair as soon as we can.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking in a deep breath and blowing it out as I straighten my blouse.
I head to the hall, plaster a smile on my face, and open the door. “Good morning.”
“Hey there,” he beams. He looks good in blue jeans, a cream linen jacket, and a white shirt.
He’s also well doused in aftershave, which I can almost taste in the air.
I smile towards him, and I’m about to ask if he’d like to come inside, but from nowhere, he leans in and scoops me into his arms. His mouth is open and fully on mine before I can get my head around what’s happening and I find I’ve got no choice but to wait until he’s done kissing me. Oh God, this is a nightmare.
Finally, he steps back, but his smile drops slightly, and I look away while discreetly trying to dry the edges of my mouth. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but I also don’t want his lips on me either. He’s a good-looking man, just not for me. There’s no spark. No chemistry. No butterflies.
Yet, Tommy gives me all those things and more. STOP.
I try to gather my thoughts together as an awkward silence fills the space between us for a few seconds.
“Um, these are for you.” He hands me the giant bouquet.
“Oh, wow. Thank you, Fraser. That’s lovely of you, but what are they for?”
“Just a thank you for last night. I had a great time.”
I clear my throat. “Would you like to come in for a cuppa?” I should tell him now, but not on the doorstep.
“Yeah, great.”
He follows me to the kitchen and, just as we enter, the boys come screaming past with Connie close behind. “Indoor voices please, boys,” she says, then smiles at Fraser. “Hello again.”
“Hi there.” He smiles back, but when his eyes glance down at the kids, his lips form a line. I wonder if he feels uncomfortable around them. There’s only one way to find out.
I crouch down in front of the boys, flowers still in hand. “This is my son, Josh, and this is Ozzie,” I say looking up, then briefly back to the boys. “Okay, you two. First, say hello to Fraser.”
They both turn around. “Hello, Fraser,” they say in unison. Fraser half waves and his mouth sets in a slanted smile. Yep. I’m right. He doesn’t know what to say to them. Surely, he can manage a simple hello.
The boys turn back to me after a short awkward moment. “Okay, you two, behave today. No ganging up on Connie.”
Josh giggles, playing with a flower petal from the bouquet, while Oz nods vigorously. “Okay then, off you go.”
I grab Josh by the hand, swing him back, and kiss the top of his head before he runs off. From nowhere, Oz launches himself into my arms. I nearly topple backwards, but his little gesture has stolen my heart. “Bye, Angie,” he says, then toddles off, taking Connie’s hand.
“Good luck,” Connie mouths, making sure Fraser isn’t looking.
Once we’re alone, I temporarily stand the flowers in some water, then make us both a coffee.
“Who does the other boy belong to?” Fraser asks.
I feel strangely awkward. “Oh, he’s my friend's little boy.”
“Ah, right. Does your nanny look after her child often?”
“His child.”
“Oh, I see.” His face drops. Shit, he’ll be a miserable wreck by the time he leaves here, and I haven’t even started with the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ speech.
“It’s nothing like that. Tommy’s an old friend of mine.”
His face perks up. “Do you mean Tommy Graham, by any chance?”
I raise my brows. “Yes, that’s right.”
“It’s just, obviously, my friend knows Calla Bryson, and I’ve met her a couple of times, but never her husband or the band.”
Oh, boy. He’s a bloody fan. “I don’t get to see him much. He’s very busy.”
“But if your nanny takes care of his child, you must be close.”
“Actually, Connie is Tommy’s nanny, not mine, and she’s doing me a favour by looking after Josh.”
“Didn’t she take care of your son last night as well?”
“She did, but I had a lot of work to catch up on today, so she offered.”
“Ahh, right. Your husband’s kitchen business.”
“Yes.” He seems to know a lot, and I can only think we touched on the subject during dinner last night, although I can’t remember talking about it. I don’t discuss Scott’s business with anyone. Bugger. How much wine did I drink?
“It must be a lot of work for you on your own.”
Okay, we’re not going there, and I have to tell this guy not to get comfortable.
I place our coffee down in front of us and take the stool at the breakfast bar next to him.
“Yes, it keeps me busy.” There’s no easy way to say this, but I dive right in.
“Look, Fraser, I’m going to get straight to the point, because I don’t want to waste your time or mine.
I had a wonderful evening with you last night—”
Taking my hand, he kisses the back and leans forward. “Me too.”
I slowly slide my hand from his grasp and back to my lap. “Um, the thing is, you’re a great guy—”
“Thank you.” He edges his seat closer. Shit.
“So, what I wanted to say was, you are lovely, but you know, I think we would be better off as friends.”
And there’s the face drop again. “Oh, I see.” His back straightens, and I feel like the worst person on Earth.
“I just don’t think I’m ready to date. I know it’s been a long time—”
“No,” he interrupts, raising his hand. “There’s no need to make excuses.
” He stands from his seat and seems flustered.
I have a feeling that Fraser is usually the one to call it a day.
“I’ve been dating long enough to know when I’m getting the brush off.
” He’s already making tracks towards the hall.
I can’t believe it. Could this be the quickest breakup in history? He can’t wait to get out of here, and although I didn’t want to upset or offend him, this direct approach seems to work a treat. It’s so straightforward and… easy.
“Please don’t feel as if you have to go straight away. At least finish your coffee,” I offer.
“No, it’s okay. As you said, you’re busy and, to be honest, there’s no point in pretending we might be friends. We both know that’s just something people say. I think it’s better to leave so we can both stop wasting time.”
His direct hit floors me momentarily, and I don’t know how to respond. He’s so black-and-white about it.
“Oh.” I follow him, almost bewildered at the speed and ease of this situation. A final goodbye is probably a good thing on reflection. Is he really friend material anyway? Probably not. “Well, maybe I’ll see you around?” I smile, opening the door for him as he steps out.
“I doubt, it,” he says, not once looking back.
Yep, that had to be the easiest breakup in history and I’m certain Frasier didn’t really care at all.