Chapter 12
What the hell did Ben mean by drawing a heart?
Sasha had to stop overthinking. But it had totally thrown her.
A bowl and a whisk and a heart. Surely it was just a doodle of the matcha reading itself?
After all, it was a matchmaking reading that was meant to find him love.
But she couldn’t help wondering if it meant anything more.
Had he felt the intimate energy between them in the café?
With the notes he was leaving her, the way he wanted to help her, she was fighting a strong pull of attraction towards him.
She’d been struggling enough with the prospect of matchmaking him.
The thought of it filled her with fear, as well as excitement.
She’d brushed it off too many times. But she had to admit, it unnerved her not to be able to sense him psychically.
It made her lose confidence in herself. Would she be able to tune into him for a reading? Or would she still draw a blank?
She had finally worked out why she’d failed to read him so far.
Like many people who moved to a new area, he was guarded about himself.
He had built a wall of defences against the world.
He’d mentioned he’d been hurt. She thought of the ex-girlfriend he’d referred to, the woman who didn’t think he was her ‘One’. What exactly had happened there?
Everyone deserved to find their match. Sasha wanted to do her best for him. But she could tell it wasn’t going to be easy.
Her first job would be to dismantle the wall he’d built around his emotions.
That night, she pulled out the usual paperwork she went through before a reading.
She had a list of questions to help her get to know a new client.
It was more of a guide rather than boxes to tick.
She preferred to have a natural conversation with her clients, use her intuition to sound out what they were looking for.
To gather some background information about Ben, she’d scanned social media. But either he wasn’t on Instagram or Facebook or LinkedIn, or there were too many Ben Radissons and she hadn’t been able to find him.
She hoped her intuition, her psychic powers, would finally kick in once he gave her permission and opened up to her.
On Monday afternoon, the gale started blowing again.
The windowpanes shook and the occasional shower of heavy raindrops pattered.
The lunchtime rush was over and Sasha was relieved that Mollie was in court instead of at her usual table towards the back of the café.
She was far too nosy and Ben might not open up to Sasha if he felt he was being overheard.
Ben was on time for his appointment. As he opened the door, a gust of wind and rain swirled in and Sasha shivered. He pushed back the hood of his parka. ‘Where do you want me?’
‘Right here, laid out on the counter would be wonderful.’ As Nathan might say. Her face flamed as she quickly shooed Nathan from her mind. How could he be intruding on her personal space? He wasn’t even here!
‘Annie, are you fine if we head out to the yard for Ben’s reading? We’ll be back before the school-run rush.’
‘Sure.’ Annie nodded as she poured milk into a jug. ‘I’ll shout if we get busy.’
‘Luring him into your love lair?’ This time, it was Klara’s cheeky teasing she imagined.
Her friend had been going on non-stop about Ben.
You could almost call it her daily activity.
Sasha felt a blush travel over her face and chest. Sweat prickled her neck.
Ben would think she had a medical issue, the way she kept flushing and sweating when he was around.
In the courtyard, Ben relaxed onto the rocking sofa, a wide grin on his face as he rocked it back and forth. ‘Ah! I’d like one of these at home!’
Sasha couldn’t help smiling at his enthusiasm. He looked like an overgrown child. Quite adorable. ‘Don’t you just love it?’ She resisted the temptation to snuggle into the cushions next to him, and settled into one of the armchairs, maintaining a professional distance.
Ben yawned and stretched; her eyes flicked to his abs but his shirt was securely tucked in. There were no tantalizing glimpses of flesh.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I had an early start, to catch the Asian markets.’
‘What is it you do?’ she asked.
‘I’m a trader. I used to work in the City but now I just trade my own accounts.’
‘Right. OK – before the actual reading, it would be good to get some basic information about you. We can decide whether a matcha reading would be a good fit. It’s not for everyone.’
‘Oh, right – sure. I’m all for trying different things, as I said.’ His gaze caught hers and she ignored the jolt in her chest. Just nerves. Ben was about to open up to her. She had to get this right.
‘It’s important I get a feel for who you are. How about a quick-fire round of questions? Fish and chips or burger and fries?’
‘Easy – fish and chips.’ He grinned.
‘Salt and vinegar or cheese and onion?’
‘Does ready salted count?’
‘Good choice. Youngest, oldest, middle child or only child?’
‘Youngest.’
‘Do you believe in the supernatural?’
‘I – um – not really? But I like to keep an open mind.’
‘Great! What about psychic powers?’
‘Well, I’ve heard yours work – so yes, I guess I believe in them.’
She smiled, trying to relax. ‘OK. All good! When I met you, I realized you don’t like muddy water in your face . . .’
‘Yeah, that was certainly – a different sort of welcome.’ A smile lit up the gold in his eyes.
She couldn’t help responding with a grin. ‘Sorry about that – I can be accident-prone.’
‘Maybe you think a mud bath is good for the skin? You were about to plunge head first into the mud on the common.’
‘Yes, thank you – for helping me – er – keep fresh.’
They both laughed and she could feel her cheeks warming. There was a pause.
‘So. What else do you need to know? Short-term and long-term goals? My strengths and my weaknesses?’
Sasha scrunched up her nose. ‘It’s not a job interview – I mean – you can tell me them if you like. But I’m more interested in, for instance – what you’d do if you saw a kitten stuck in a tree.’
He relaxed back, rocking. ‘Hmm – I’d most likely call the fire brigade for a ladder? Although these days with all the council cutbacks it might take a while. I guess I could climb up? With a treat to coax it down?’
Sasha looked at her pad and scribbled. ‘What – er – what sort of treat?’
The thought of Ben rescuing a kitten was creating a melting sensation in the area of her heart. A very dangerous sensation.
‘Well, er – a dead mouse? They do frozen ones at the pet shop.’
Sasha squealed and he grinned. ‘Sorry!’
‘All right,’ Sasha continued. ‘I know you like reading fantasy – do you see yourself as a hero or the hero’s friend?’
‘I’m no hero,’ he said quietly. His grin had faded. He clenched his jaw.
What was the story there? Ben seemed more relaxed but, jokes aside, Sasha could detect a barrier that he had put up around his energy. She could feel a block every time she reached out with her psychic senses.
Should she even attempt the actual matcha reading? What if it didn’t work? She’d never failed in a reading before. But there was always a first time. She decided to be honest with him.
‘Look, Ben, I’m sensing some kind of wall around your emotions. I’m sure it’s a defence mechanism, but it makes you hard to read. That’s why I thought we could chat, and I could get to know you a bit better.’
‘O-kay . . . what about your psychic power? Doesn’t that tell you anything?’
‘Sometimes it’s hard to reach out, if – if a client is too defensive. Being more open will help the matchmaking. Don’t worry – I’ve never failed to pair someone up since I’ve been in Bramleigh Green.’
Even as she said it, Sasha wished she could take the words back. Was she tempting fate, by acting so confident? What if Ben was the one person she couldn’t match?
‘Also, Ben, do you mind if I have a look at your social media accounts? Could you give me your Facebook and Instagram links?’
His frown was back. She’d forgotten how the vertical lines between his eyebrows changed Ben’s whole face. Did he hate social media that much? She had to clarify. ‘You are on Facebook and/or Instagram?’ she asked again.
‘Er, actually, no – I’m not a fan of Mr Zuckerberg so I cancelled my Facebook account years ago. I was never on Instagram and only used Twitter – I won’t call it X – for work. Call me paranoid, but I don’t want to give away my data.’
‘So – you don’t have any social media? Not even LinkedIn? Don’t you need that for your career?’
‘No. I came off all of my social media accounts when I moved to Bramleigh Green. I wanted a fresh start.’ He stood up suddenly and the sofa rocked back violently.
‘You know, maybe your matchmaking service isn’t a good fit for me.
Sorry.’ His voice was harsh. All traces of warmth and humour were gone.
‘Oh, OK . . .’
What was going on? The atmosphere had changed from relaxed to tense so quickly, Sasha felt she had whiplash. She watched in shock as he headed for the door. As he opened it, he hesitated for a moment. ‘I’ll still pay you for the appointment. Sorry to have wasted your time.’
After he left, Sasha stayed seated for a while. She felt slightly stunned. What just happened? No one had walked out of a consultation before. She hadn’t even started the actual matcha reading.
Something must have triggered him. Was it mentioning his social media?
Or was it her? She couldn’t help thinking of the first day she’d met Ben, when she’d drenched him with muddy water. And then she’d crashed into him on the common.
They hadn’t got off on the right foot. Far from it. But she’d thought he’d got over it. He’d returned to the café, after all. Yesterday, when the storm wrecked her Mother’s Day event, he seemed to be opening up. She’d sensed he’d only agreed to this matcha reading to help her out.
Maybe she wasn’t as good at reading people as she thought.