Chapter 11
As the door closed behind Klara and Nathan, silence descended on the café. Ben remained at his table, reading. An awkward atmosphere descended on the room. Something about Ben continued to get under Sasha’s skin. She wasn’t quite sure what it was about him.
Probably just his lack of openness. It was so frustrating.
Over the past year, she’d come to think of herself as the matchmaking oracle for her customers.
It had been a boost to her ego after she’d been so humbled after what had happened with the law college.
But Ben was a living reminder that her powers didn’t work for everyone.
The back of her neck prickled with irritation.
She put on a jazz playlist and began to stack the empty plates and glasses on a tray. All the while she was super-aware of him, quietly reading. As Ella Fitzgerald crooned about love, the air felt even more charged.
Ben glanced up from his book, as if sensing her aggravation, and she immediately swapped her glare to a smile.
‘All good, Sasha? I hope I didn’t break up your party.’
‘Not at all!’ She grinned, rather manically. ‘They were all about to leave anyway.’ Oh, god. How embarrassing. Now he thinks I’m annoyed with him.
He leaned back in his chair, rolled his shoulders and stretched. She caught a glimpse of a taut stomach with defined abs as his shirt rode up. Klara was right. Ben had muscles.
‘How did the event go this weekend? This weather can’t have helped.’
She dragged her eyes away from his body, feeling her cheeks warm. ‘We had tons of cancellations. But the good news is, there’ll be plenty of Nathan’s cakes for tea all next week.’
‘I’m sorry – about the cancellations, not about the cakes. They’re delicious. I really have to watch myself when I come here.’ He patted his belly.
Nothing to worry about there – with your toned abs!
A smile tugged at her lips. ‘Yesterday was better – we were fully booked. Don’t worry, I’m not completely bankrupt yet.’
Ben put down his book and caught her gaze. ‘I – couldn’t help overhearing Mollie earlier – are you looking to bring in more income?’
Sasha sighed, reminded of her worries. ‘You’ve probably heard by now – everyone else seems to know about it. My lease is up for renewal – at a hugely inflated cost.’
‘No, I hadn’t heard. I’m sorry.’ His sympathy made tears threaten.
‘New – property managers.’ Her voice caught in her throat. ‘Charging fifty per cent more than last time. If I don’t generate more revenue . . . I’m sorry.’ She swiped at her eyes. She couldn’t face closing the café for good.
Ben stood up, crossed the room and handed her the box of tissues.
‘Thanks.’ She wiped her face and blew her nose.
He was so close she could smell his aftershave.
Sandalwood. A hint of bergamot. And that underlying trace of woodsmoke.
He must have a wood-burner or an open fire at home.
Nothing wrong with her sense of smell, despite the tears.
She quickly picked up the loaded tray and moved behind the counter.
‘Uh! I’m sorry – it’s been an exhausting weekend.
’ She tried to smile. ‘I do have a few ideas to increase our revenue. It’s not over yet. ’
‘It’s hard, running a small business in these times,’ he said slowly. ‘What about this Matcha Maker Special? Does that generate more revenue? When did you start offering it?’
‘My grandmother taught me how to access my psychic abilities a couple of years ago, before she died.’ Sasha smiled, thinking of her beloved Por Por.
‘At first it was more of a hobby, a gift for my customers. When I first moved here, everyone was so welcoming. It was a way of – you know – giving back. Everyone wants to find that special someone. But if I want to keep the café going, I will have to start charging more. Expand the business beyond Bramleigh. I was thinking I could hold readings online.’
He put a bookmark in his book and closed it. ‘When exactly did you move to Bramleigh?’
‘Just over a year ago – I – had to leave my law career. It wasn’t right for me, anyway, and I wanted to have more time for my friends, like Klara. I fancied moving to a small town for a change. The best thing is – the commute!’
‘You certainly don’t have far to go.’ He smiled. ‘Working from home has its perks. I’m not missing rush hour on the London Underground at all.’
‘Exactly – it’s great just rolling out of bed and coming down here. Although sometimes it’s hard to switch off.’
The atmosphere seemed to change. Was it because she’d mentioned her bed? She imagined him in his bed, looking tousled and gorgeous. She wondered if the rest of his body was as muscled as the abs she’d just glimpsed.
‘I’m sorry things aren’t brilliant for you right now,’ he said gently, his eyebrows knitted in concern. He really seemed to care. She was starting to realize that she’d misjudged him. ‘Hey – if you need to increase your revenue, I’d be happy to knock some ideas around.’
She gave a light laugh. ‘I thought you came here for some peace and quiet – and to read your book?’
‘Yeah – well – I’ve only a couple of chapters to go, I need to eke them out. The next book in the series isn’t due out for ages. And I feel that – well – it’s a shame if small businesses are being driven out by big chains. Is there some way I can help?’
‘I guess . . . you could book a matcha reading?’ Sasha pointed towards her Matcha Maker Special board. But she couldn’t help the doubt in her voice. Would her psychic powers work for Ben’s full reading if they wouldn’t even work with the tea leaves?
‘The matchmaking reading? The one Mollie mentioned the other day when she asked if I was “single and looking”?’ His lip quirked in amusement.
‘Small-town life isn’t as – anonymous as the big city.’ Sasha chuckled.
‘Yeah, as I found out – the minute I stepped into this café!’ He laughed too.
Sasha’s eyes were gleaming, remembering. ‘I thought Alice was going to offer to wash your hair herself. Maybe you should have taken her up on it.’
‘I got away lightly, it seems, with a rubdown!’
Sasha blushed, remembered the shredding blue paper. ‘You’ll get used to it – if you stay in Bramleigh. But, going back to the Matcha Maker Special – what do you think? Would you really like to book a session?’
‘To be honest, I hadn’t thought about it seriously.’
At least he wasn’t sneering at her. Some people didn’t believe in psychic powers. If that was him, he was good at hiding it.
At the prospect of a client, Sasha abandoned the washing-up. She dried her hands, pulled out a chair and sat opposite Ben. Here was a chance to find out what made him tick. ‘So . . . as you told Mollie – you’re happy being single?’
‘I – I wouldn’t say happy . . . I’m . . . not the best at relationships. The last one failed – and it’s been a while.’ He stared out of the window, not meeting her eyes.
Sasha could see he was uncomfortable. There must be a story behind his words.
‘I understand. It’s not easy, opening up to another person.
You make yourself vulnerable.’ She thought of Dominic.
She’d tried to show him who she was but he’d thought she was ‘too intense’.
He’d called her ‘too much’. And in the end, he’d had no qualms about taking everything from her.
‘Yes, exactly.’ Ben nodded, still not meeting her gaze. ‘And then – it hurts too much when things don’t work out.’
Billie Holiday crooned in the background about finding her lover man. Ben caught her eye and they both laughed again.
‘You’ve helped so many people. The book club ladies – Mr Davis . . .’ His expression turned earnest. ‘Why don’t you tell me how a matcha reading works?’
Sasha relaxed. This nice, supportive Ben was lovely.
He wasn’t grouchy any more. Or sneering at her, like Eleanor.
She could get used to this version. ‘Well, I whisk up the matcha in my ceremonial bowl. I tune into my psychic senses and as the matcha bubbles up, it shows me a vision. One that guides you towards your perfect match.’
‘O-kay . . . interesting.’ Ben was gazing at her, concentrating on her words. The late-afternoon light streamed through the windows, catching on the gold glints in his hair. How was it he was still single?
Sasha dragged her thoughts away from a few cute spikes of hair and tuned back into his words. ‘Actually,’ he was saying, ‘my last girlfriend told me I wasn’t her one true love. Do you believe in that? That out of all the people living on this planet there’s only one “true love” for each of us?’
Sasha felt a thud in her solar plexus. That last girlfriend must have been mad.
‘It’s – er – it’s subjective. If you ask Klara, for instance, she’s all for it.
Her granny talks about every jam jar having its lid.
But me – well, I don’t know. How do you explain attraction?
There are definitely types you’d be more compatible with.
’ Sunbeams were turning his irises amber with gold flecks.
She cleared her throat. ‘The – er – the matcha reading should guide you towards someone who complements you.’
‘You mean, with the idea of – opposites attracting?’
His voice had lowered to a sexy rumble and Sasha was finding it hard to focus.
‘Kind of . . . but it’s not as easy as that.
For example, some introverts are better with another introvert.
But then an extrovert might bring them out of their shell – it’s different for everyone.
You just need to meet someone who brings out the best in you. ’
He nodded. ‘I admit I’m curious. How can you tell who’d be best for me?’
‘A lot of it is chemistry. I don’t always know what a reading will pick up on.
’ Sasha blushed as she admitted it. ‘Some people are easier to get a gauge of. Klara’s easy to read, like an open book.
And Mr Davis – when he was finally ready, his match, Gloria, appeared straightaway.
Although in my vision I saw a yapping dog.
At first I thought his match might be Puddles. ’
He gave a shout of laughter. ‘Puddles?’
‘Yes!’ She joined in laughing and it relieved the tension.
She confessed. ‘To tell you the truth, Mr Davis told me I was actually yapping like a dog in the reading.’ Ben threw his head back with laughter, so his shirt rode up again and she was rewarded by the sight of his abs. Her mouth went dry and her heart raced.
‘What about me? How easy am I to read?’ Ben stopped laughing and leaned forwards.
Her cheeks flamed. Had he caught her staring at him, like a sex-starved nun?
‘You are . . .’ Her throat was so dry her voice croaked. ‘Sorry – you’re more of a challenge.’
‘A challenge?’ He leaned in more. ‘I mean – is that why you drenched me in manure water?’ His voice was low, full of humour. The slight huskiness was making her insides flip.
‘What? No!’ Sasha’s lips curved into a smile. She slapped her palms on her reddening cheeks. This relaxed version of Ben was far too likeable. His dry sense of humour. A smile tugging at his lips. All miles better than the grumpy version.
He sat back and nodded. ‘O-kay . . . as long as you don’t throw a cup of matcha at me – I don’t mind giving your matcha reading a go.’
‘Really? You’re ready to meet your match?’ Something stabbed Sasha in the chest – was it regret?
‘If you think you can match me with someone who complements me . . .’
‘Great!’ she said brightly, ignoring the sudden tightness in her throat. Maybe she was tired. Ben would make some woman a great boyfriend. Of course he would.
‘So . . . just tell me, what do I do next?’
Sasha glanced down at her phone to hide whatever feeling was making her heart thud heavily.
Was it disappointment? It had been a tough day.
She hadn’t had much sleep. Ben being so nice was getting to her.
‘I – er – I can’t fit you in today, I’m afraid.
I’m exhausted. It’s best when I’m fresh. Tomorrow at 2.30?’
‘Great, I don’t have any afternoon meetings.’
Sasha made a note in her calendar. ‘Monday, 2.30. Ben – what’s your surname?’
‘Radisson.’
‘Why did you move here, by the way?’ she asked. ‘You don’t have to tell me if that’s too intrusive.’
‘I don’t really like talking about it, but I’m sure one of you will get it out of me, so I might as well tell you. I . . . had to leave my job. Something happened in my firm – and I felt that I’d failed – so I resigned. Sorry if I seem a bit . . .’
‘Rude?’
‘I was going to say defensive, but – I guess I can appear rude. I was tired of London – wanted to move somewhere smaller.’
‘And less anonymous?’ She gave him a disbelieving look. ‘So, you came here where no one keeps out of your business for one second?’
He cracked a laugh. ‘Yeah. I guess I didn’t think about book clubs and OAPs and local business owners who see a newcomer as fair entertainment.’
Sasha giggled. ‘Don’t worry – all I know about you is that you like reading fantasy and you don’t like getting cold and wet . . . But then who does?’
‘Oh – I don’t know – some people make a habit of icy showers and mud wrestling . . .’
Sasha giggled again, and Ben held her gaze, a glint of amusement in his eyes. The air between them seemed to shift. ‘I – better get the bill.’ His voice was suddenly husky again.
Sasha brought over the card reader. She held it out to him, her hand trembling slightly. When Ben tapped his card, his fingers brushed hers and a crackle of electricity sparked between them, making her gasp.
‘Sorry – electric shock. I’ve been getting them all day.’ He apologized, his eyes catching her gaze for a second.
She looked away, her insides fluttering with nerves as she ripped off his receipt. ‘I guess the storm’s charged the air with static.’
He nodded and picked up his things, leaving a folded Post-it behind.
As soon as he left the café, she unfolded the note. Looking forward to our matcha reading!
Underneath was a doodle of a bowl and whisk. And a heart.