The Winner Bakes It All

Chapter 27

Mal was ready to drop. The night before had caught up with him a couple of hours ago and now he was practically falling asleep on his feet. He sat on his bed. Less than twenty-four hours ago, Elodie had been here. He brushed his hand over the pillow and smiled. What was she doing now? Was it too late to call her?

Deciding it wasn’t, he tried her number. It rang for so long, he was composing a voicemail message in his head when she answered.

‘Mal.’ Her voice was breathy.

‘Hi. I was wondering how your day had gone.’

‘My day …’ she sniffed. ‘My day could have been better.’

She sounded like she’d been crying. Alarmed, Mal sat up straight. ‘What’s wrong?’

She sniffed again, started to speak, but all he heard was a garbled half sob.

‘Elodie, what’s wrong?’ He sprang to his feet. ‘Where are you? I’ll come and help.’

There was another sniff and she said, ‘I’m sorry, Mal. I’ve just had a row with my parents and I’m a bit …’

‘Do you want me to come over to you? Or do you need space right now?’

‘I … I’ve tried Marty, but he’s not picking up and … actually, I’d really like a hug right now.’

‘That, I can do,’ he said. ‘Tell me where you are.’

‘Can … can I come to you instead?’

‘Of course you can. You know how to get here?’

‘I think so.’

He gave her directions and his postcode for the sat nav, just in case.

‘I’ll be about twenty minutes,’ she said, hoarsely.

While he waited, he paced up and down his room. She had sounded so upset. What had she argued with her parents about? Was she okay?

When finally the doorbell rang, he practically flew downstairs.

When she stepped into the light in the hallway, his heart contracted.

She looked like she’d been crying. Eyes red rimmed and swollen. In her hand was a backpack. She tried to speak, but her eyes filled with tears again.

‘Oh. Elodie.’ Without really thinking about it, he took a step towards her and when she met him with a step forward of her own, he hugged her tight. She sniffed into his shoulder, just as she had done in her shop not so long ago.

‘Hey. It’s okay. Whatever it is …’ He kissed the side of her head. ‘We can sort it out.’

After a few minutes he took her hand, picked up her bag and led her upstairs to his room.

‘What’s in the bag?’ he said. It was unexpectedly heavy.

‘My laptop,’ she said. ‘Ch … chargers and things and …’

He ushered her into his room and shut the door. He had to move a few things off the bed and pile them on the chair to make room for her to sit down.

He sat next to her. ‘Tell me.’

She poured out the whole story. He listened with mounting sadness. Seeing her cry twisted something inside him. He wanted to cry too. If only there was something he could do.

‘If Saffron doesn’t pay the full amount … I need that money for me. I have enough to keep paying Marty for another three months, but not to pay me.’

Now Mal felt guilty. He was the reason Saffron would refuse to pay for the cake. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of her not paying the rest for the catering. His mind leapt to solutions, to ways he could help. He could pay the remainder of what she was owed for the catering himself, after all, it was his fault … well, actually it was Leon’s fault, not his. The fact that he was involved at all made it awkward with the insurance, too.

She started talking about her parents and started crying afresh.

‘Oh, love,’ he said and gathered her to him. He hated seeing her cry. As he stroked her hair, the feeling hit him. It felt like a jolt of lightning. He would do anything to stop this woman from being hurt. Anything. He had known he liked her, but this … was a whole other level of needing to be with her.

There had to be something he could do to help her. His mind whirred with possible solutions. What was wrong with her family? How could they not see how talented she was and how hard she worked?

‘The worst thing is,’ Elodie said, morosely, ‘they’re not wrong. I am rubbish at business.’

‘No you’re not,’ he said. ‘You make amazing cakes.’

‘But I’m not making enough profit to make the business viable. Not if I have to live in the real world and pay proper rent and things.’

Ah. Now here was where he could help. ‘Move in with me,’ he said. ‘I can talk to my housemates about some sort of nominal rent. I will pay the other half of what Saffron owes you out of my share which should help tide you over until Saffron pays up. You could manage with the business then and—’

She pushed herself away from him. Tears still streaked her face, but her eyes had gone all cold and hard.

‘What’s wrong?’ he said. A sudden feeling of dread stirred. This was not the face of a woman who was happy with him. He had screwed up. But how?

Elodie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had just poured her heart out to this guy about how her parents didn’t believe she had it in her to make her business profitable and how they patronised her by allowing her to live with them while simultaneously belittling her for not being independent. How she’d had enough. And he had just offered to do exactly the same thing.

‘What’s wrong?’ he said.

She stood up. He was staring up at her, all bewildered. Had he even listened to a word she’d been saying?

‘Elodie?’

‘I … I think I should go,’ she said. ‘It was a mistake to come here.’

‘Elodie, wait, whatever it was I said to upset you, I’m sorry.’

She didn’t bother replying, just grabbed her bag and swung it up.

‘Where are you going?’

That was a good question. She had come here because she’d thought he would understand; that he believed in her. Tears threatened again. She had no idea where she was going to go. Marty might pick up her messages. She could sleep in the car, maybe. If she had to sleep in the shop, she would.

Mal jumped in front of her, getting between her and the door. ‘Elodie, wait. Please.’

She hitched the bag higher on her shoulder and glared at him. He was bigger and stronger than she was, but she was damned if she was going to back down. His gaze flickered. He sighed and stood aside.

‘Look, I’m sorry. Stay here for the night. I’ll sleep downstairs. I won’t disturb you in the morning.’

‘I don’t need your pity,’ she said. Even though she really did.

‘Elodie. Be reasonable.’

That did it. She marched past him, flounced down the stairs and managed to make it to her car before she started crying again. She tried to drive back to the shop, but crying and driving weren’t a great idea, so she pulled in a couple of streets away from Mal’s and allowed herself to cry her heart out. This wasn’t the same pain that had propelled her away from her parents’ house. This pain was new. It was worse.

She had overestimated how much Mal respected her. He defended her to Travis, but he still thought of her as silly little Elodie too, just to a different extent. To make matters worse, she had underestimated how much she cared about him. She thought of working alongside him. The camaraderie. The comfortable conversations in her tiny kitchen as she worked and he drank his coffee. The intimacy of him laying his cheek against her hand in lieu of a hug. All of that had got under her defences and she’d let herself believe that he understood her, when he didn’t at all.

Her phone rang. She glanced at it, thinking it must be Mal. Oh. Marty. Oh, thank god. She wiped her eyes and answered it.

‘Elodie. Where are you? I’m not at home, but I’m coming back right now. I’ll be there in about half an hour.’

‘Marty. I’m coming to yours.’ Where else was she going to go?

‘Hang in there, sweetie. I’ve got you. I’ll call you when I get home. Wait in the car for me, okay. It’s late.’

Elodie stared at the dark street outside. Streetlamps illuminated the quiet neighbourhood. There was no one around. What time was it?

‘Elodie? Are you still there?’ There was the sound of a car door slamming. ‘I’m on my way.’

‘I’m here,’ she said, quietly. ‘I’ll see you at yours.’

‘It’ll be okay, sweetie,’ he said. ‘I promise.’

‘Thanks, Marty.’ She hung up and took a few deep breaths until the urge to wail subsided. She felt raw, as thought someone had scraped out her chest. At least she had a place to sleep tonight.

Outside Marty’s she found a place to park and turned the engine off. It was nearly midnight now. Where had Marty been that it took him so long to get back? Had he been on a date? She watched as a car pulled up and Marty’s lanky figure emerged. The car was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t remember where she’d seen it before. He got his phone out, but she had already jumped out of her car and was waving to him.

‘Hello, you.’ He gave her a hug. It was less comforting than the tight squeeze she’d had from Mal. She shut her eyes. She couldn’t think about that right now.

Within minutes they were inside his bedsit. The space was crowded and smelled faintly of turpentine. The only decent sized bit of wall was taken up by one of his paintings – a vibrant abstract design that seemed to capture something very Marty in it.

He didn’t have a couch, but he had one of those weird foam chairs that unfolded into a squishy mattress. She sat on the chair and he sat on the bed.

She told him what had happened. Now that the storm of crying had passed, she felt exhausted. And sad. She managed to get through the whole thing about her parents and how she’d left without crying. Marty listened and thrust a glass of gin into her hand. She took a sip and coughed as it burned down her throat.

‘I’m sorry. I don’t have any tonic,’ Marty said. ‘Or, like, anything to mix that with.’

She shook her head and waved the glass. ‘S’fine,’ she managed. Another cough and her throat cleared. The burn spread warmth through her chest and back. For some reason it reminded her of Mal. Tears threatened again.

‘So, what are you going to do?’ said Marty.

‘I don’t know. I went to see Mal … looking for, I don’t know, understanding or something. And he basically said he didn’t believe in me either.’

‘Woah. He actually said that? Rude!’

Now she felt bad, because he hadn’t actually said that.

Marty shook his head. ‘Wow. Mal didn’t seem like that sort of guy.’

She thought about Mal defending her with such certainty to Travis. ‘He didn’t say exactly that,’ she conceded. ‘He basically said that he’d try to support me, so that I could carry on like this for a bit longer.’

Marty frowned. His eyes moved around under his furrowed brow. ‘I … don’t understand.’

She sighed. ‘He said I could move in with him and we could work out a way that it wouldn’t cost much more than it does now. He said he would pay the remainder of Saffron’s catering money out of his half to keep me afloat …’

‘That seems … not bad.’ Marty held his hands palms upward and shrugged. ‘I’m not seeing it. I’m sorry.’

Elodie sighed. Now that she was telling someone else, it wasn’t obvious, she realised. ‘My parents offered to bail me out several times before and I said no, because I wanted to do this on my own. They would just roll their eyes and say “of course, princess, but we’re here if you need us”. I used to pay them a little in rent, but when they found out that things weren’t going that well with the business, they said I should stop paying it. They were basically humouring me and I didn’t like it. Now they’ve pointed out that I’ve failed and that I should give it all up. They said I couldn’t run this business if they weren’t holding me up.’ She put her head in her hands. ‘Which is true!’

‘And …’ Marty said, slowly. ‘When Mal offered to help you, you thought he was saying the same thing?’

‘Yes,’ she said, into her muffled hands.

‘Sweetie.’ Marty put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Did you tell Mal specifically that you didn’t want him to try to help? Because helping is kinda Mal’s thing.’

Elodie looked up. ‘It is?’

‘Sure. Look how hard he’s trying to help the epilepsy mums. One of them asked about birthday cakes and he decided to try and learn how to make that happen. The guy likes solving problems and he’s got a massive guilt complex according to … according to his friends. From the gym.’

This was true, now that she thought about it. Helping out was Mal’s thing. Oh no.

‘You went to him for help, as he saw it, and he offered help,’ said Marty.

‘I overreacted, didn’t I?’ She buried her face in her hands again. ‘Ugh. Why am I like this?’

He patted her shoulder. ‘Because you’ve had a difficult day and you’re exhausted.’

‘I should probably apologise to Mal.’

‘Not now.’ Marty stood up and started fishing around in the wardrobe that took up part of the room. ‘Here we go. Let’s get a bed made up for you.’ He emerged with a sleeping bag. ‘I think you need to get some sleep. You’ll be able to sort out your thoughts better in the morning. If you try to talk to Mal now, you’ll end up going round the same spiral all over again and make things worse.’

She stood up too and unfolded the chair. They had to move his drop leaf table out of the way to make it lie flat.

‘How come you’re such an advocate for Mal?’ she said. Something he said was scratching at her for attention.

‘Because of the way he looks at you. That guy is so into you it’s embarrassing to watch.’

She thought of the time she’d spent with him. The warmth, the laughter. The way he felt like somewhere safe to be. She made the bed, distractedly. There were no spare pillows, so Marty stuffed a cushion into a pillowcase for her.

‘Wait, where were you?’ she said, suddenly. ‘You called and told me you were coming home and you were somewhere half an hour away. You said yesterday that you were doing your self-care stuff today …’

He stopped moving and bit his lip. ‘Ah. You noticed.’

She thought about the car he’d got out of. She had seen it before. ‘Were you … with Jake?’

He went a bit red. ‘Would you be angry if I said yes?’

She threw her arms around him. ‘Why would I be angry that you’re hooking up with a guy you’ve liked for ages?’

He hugged her back. Again, she thought of Mal’s all-encompassing hug. Oh, she’d screwed up so badly.

‘Mal called Jake,’ Marty said, his chin on her shoulder. ‘He was really upset. He didn’t know what he’d done and he was really worried about you. So I said I’d call you and make sure you were safe. Jake doesn’t drink, so he just drove me home.’ He released her and held her lightly by her upper arms. ‘Mal really likes you, Elodie. I don’t think he was trying to patronise you. He thinks you’re this incredible entrepreneur.’

Something inside her crumbled. ‘I’m not though. I’m just making ends meet. I can still pay you for three more months, but if Saffron ends up not paying, I might have to close everything when the lease ends.’

He nodded solemnly. ‘I know that’s a possibility. I’ve always known this job wasn’t a permanent thing. But I like it. I love working with you and the fringe benefits of cake are amazing. I’ll live.’

She nodded back, equally solemnly. ‘I promised I’d be honest with you when you took the job. It’s not going well, Marty.’

‘We’ll figure something out,’ he said. ‘Okay?’

‘Okay.’ What else could she say?

After a few more minutes, she was snuggled into the sleeping bag on the foam slab on the floor. Marty was heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He paused at the door. ‘Elodie,’ he said. ‘You know how you want to succeed without help from your parents?’

She lifted her head from her cushion pillow. ‘Yes?’

‘That doesn’t mean you have to succeed without help from anyone.’

He left the room, leaving her staring at the door. Was he right?

She lay back and blinked at the ceiling. Her eyes felt gritty and even blinking hurt. Her entire body felt heavy. It was difficult to think. Still trying to formulate a thought, she fell asleep.

Mal leaned against the wall by Elodie’s shop and scrolled through his phone. He had missed his gym session this morning to make sure he got here for when Elodie came in. It was the first time he’d missed a weekday one when he wasn’t ill or about to catch a flight. A yawn accosted him. It was hard to wake up without working out. Still, this was important.

He tucked his bag by his feet. Jake had tried to explain to him what Elodie’s outburst was all about. He realised it was only a theory, but it made sense. Jake had also talked him through the fact that he might feel guilty about messing up, but he wasn’t responsible for other people’s feelings. He couldn’t fix everything. This was a conversation he’d had many times before with Jake.

The possibility of Elodie not talking to him ever again was strong. The idea made him feel so desperate that he hadn’t slept. He had known he cared about her, but he hadn’t realised how much.

A message pinged. It was from Jake. good luck.

Mal replied, haven’t been this nervous for years. His stomach was in knots. Between that and the lack of sleep, things were starting to feel a little surreal. He really needed caffeine. He checked the time. Maybe he could duck into the café and make himself something industrial strength, while keeping an eye out for Elodie.

Footsteps made him look up. Elodie stopped, framed in the early morning light. She looked small and tired, nothing at all like the firebrand that had come into his shop and shouted at him that first day. His heart squeezed. He hated seeing her diminished like this. But, he reminded himself, this wasn’t about making himself feel better. This morning was all about her.

‘Elodie,’ he said.

Elodie started walking again. ‘Mal.’

She walked past him and opened the door to the shop. She hesitated, letting him follow her in. When she shut the door again, she leaned against it and sighed.

‘Listen,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry about last night.’

She waved his apology away. ‘It’s okay. You were trying to help. You weren’t to know that you were saying exactly what my parents used to say.’

‘Still. I should have been more tactful.’ He eyed the kettle in the back of the shop. ‘Can we talk?’

She nodded. There were bags under her eyes and her hair, pulled back into a ponytail, was still damp.

‘Shall we go to my café? I can make you a nice coffee …’

After a second of looking like she was going to argue, she said, ‘Sure. Why not?’

Neither of them spoke as they moved across. Nor while Mal fired up the machine and set it to make the coffees. Elodie sat there, her chin on her hand, eyes glazed. It was a little scary if he was being honest. He desperately wanted to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay, but that wasn’t the right thing to do at this moment.

He placed her cup in front of her and slid into the seat opposite.

She wrapped her hands around the cup and took a deep breath. ‘I owe you an apology,’ she said. ‘Last night, you were trying to help. I … overreacted.’

‘Apology accepted. It’s understandable that you were upset. I’m sorry too. I … have a tendency to jump in and try to help, especially when the problem is something that’s partially my fault. That’s a me problem. I shouldn’t have let it affect you.’

She didn’t reply, just sat there, huddled around her coffee. Seeing her like this filled him with equal parts sadness and anger towards her family for making her feel like this.

‘Elodie,’ he said, carefully. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

She raised her eyes towards him and he saw the despair. Without thinking, he reached across the table and put his hands over hers.

‘I don’t even want to open the shop today,’ she mumbled. ‘What’s the point?’

‘Well … the point is, it isn’t over until it’s over,’ he said. ‘You don’t know that Saffron isn’t going to pay you. It’s quite likely that she will. You don’t know that business isn’t suddenly going to boom after whatever viral thing that happened … happened.’

She blinked at him. She wasn’t objecting, so he moved his hands back and carried on talking. ‘If you want me to try and help, maybe brainstorm some things, I would be happy to. I have some ideas, but I’ll understand if it’s not something you want to talk about right now.’

Her gaze on him was steady and he prayed that he hadn’t messed up again. Finally, she said, ‘Give me the morning to think about things. Then we’ll talk.’

‘Come over at lunchtime,’ he said. ‘You can have one of our healthy lunches.’

‘Will you let me pay for it?’ she asked, eyes narrowing.

Ha. He had learned his lesson there. ‘Yes.’

She nodded. Then, she took a sip of coffee and closed her eyes. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I needed that.’

Mal let out a breath that made him realise he hadn’t been breathing properly for the last few minutes. He sipped his coffee too. They sat there, not speaking, and something changed in the air between them. Elodie’s shoulders descended from being hunched around her ears. As she loosened up, so did he.

Mal looked down at his coffee, which was half gone. Sitting here saying nothing was difficult for him, especially when he had solutions to offer. He had spent most of the night thinking of ways he could help. At least one of his ideas was pretty good, but … as Jake had pointed out, she hadn’t asked for his help. She had just come to him looking for comfort. He watched her and she shifted her head around to stretch her neck. She looked so tired. He would do anything for her. Anything she needed.

She was looking less tense now. So perhaps the most comforting thing he could do was to sit there, providing coffee.

He suppressed a sigh and took another sip.

Elodie stretched her neck and felt it crick. She was starting to feel better. It felt like she had been awake for several days in a row … which wasn’t entirely wrong. She stole a glance at Mal, who was sitting opposite her, drinking his coffee placidly. How could he be so calm? The thoughts she was trying not to think about tried to crowd in, but she pushed them away again. What she wanted right now was a hug. She glanced at Mal again. She could ask for one …

Mal’s phone rang, making them both jump. Mal answered it.

She sank down into her chair a little. It felt like she’d been rebuked.

‘Actually,’ Mal was saying, ‘it was a joint effort by me and my colleague from Flour Power. She made the cake.’

A woman’s voice filtered through, but Elodie couldn’t make out what she was saying.

‘That’s … Sure. That would be fine. Let me just ask my friend …’ He tapped the phone carefully, putting it on mute, she guessed.

He drew in a breath. She looked up at him.

‘That’s a reporter from the Chipping Sawdon Echo,’ he said. ‘She wants to do a piece on us, after the “viral wedding food fight fiasco”.’ He did air quotes with one hand. ‘Are you up for that?’

Was she? Honestly, she just wanted to scrub the whole weekend from her mind and start again. But … she was already screwed anyway. Why not take advantage of the little notoriety she’d got?

‘Sure.’

He gazed at her for a second, then gave a crisp nod. ‘Hello?’ he said into the phone again. ‘Yes. What sort of time would you be coming? … Ten thirty?’ He glanced at her.

She shrugged.

‘Ten thirty is good. Do you know where we are?’ He gave her the arcade’s address and some directions. Then he listened to what she was saying and smiled. ‘Yes, that was me. Yes. I’ll see you later.’

He hung up and raised his eyebrows at Elodie. ‘It seems we’re famous enough to merit a feature in the local paper.’

Elodie blew out her cheeks. ‘Why not? It’s not like I’d be any more of a laughing stock.’

‘I don’t think you’re a laughing stock.’

‘Your suggestion of saying we’d take a burger to the heart for our customers went down well,’ she admitted.

‘That was Dilan’s suggestion. Not mine.’

Was it? She had known that, hadn’t she? Her brain was full of cotton wool. This would never do. She needed to be able to think. She drained her warm coffee and pushed her cup towards him. ‘Can I have another?’ Then, as an afterthought, added, ‘Please.’

He nodded and took her cup away. She watched him as he pushed his sleeves up and took a fresh cup down. The last time she’d watched him, she’d burned some cakes. The thought made her smile. Until she remembered that she was running a failing business and was now homeless.

Marty was right. Just because she didn’t want help from her parents, it didn’t mean she couldn’t accept help from anyone. ‘Mal,’ she said.

He looked over his shoulder while fitting the coffee grounds into the machine. ‘Mmm?’

‘Help me?’ Tears rose again. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

Coffee abandoned, he was by her side. She stood up and he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her in the sort of hug that only Mal could give. She breathed in big, panicked breaths. He held her and stroked her hair. Her heart rate and breathing slowed down.

‘I’m homeless,’ she said, her voice trembling with horror. ‘I have nowhere to live and no money.’

‘That’s not strictly true, is it?’ he said.

No. It wasn’t. ‘In the short term, no. I have savings that my grandparents set up for me, but I need that to live on because the shop isn’t making enough.’

Mal kissed the side of her head. ‘Elodie. You are the most organised person I know. I bet you have numbers for everything.’

She did, so she nodded.

‘Is your laptop still in your bag? Shall we look at those numbers? If you want to.’

She took the chairs off the table at the end and plugged her laptop into the power socket, while Mal bustled around setting up. When she was ready, she called him over.

They went through the numbers. She tried very hard to look at them as just cold facts, without the emotional wallop knowing that this was her livelihood they were analysing.

‘It seems to me’, said Mal, slowly, ‘that you should be charging more.’

‘But what if I lose the customers I have already?’ The idea made her heart rate rise again.

‘You could have two tiers – a basic range of cakes that are at one price and anything bespoke is at a much more expensive rate. You’re very good, you know.’

‘Maybe …’

He looked like he was about to say something, then he pressed his lips together and said nothing.

‘But,’ she said, thinking it through, ‘I guess I have very little to lose at this point.’ Her brain still felt sluggish, but the second cup of coffee was helping.

‘What’s this page?’ He pointed to a separate page on her spreadsheet where she’d made a start of projections for doing cake decorating classes.

‘I can’t do those. Those are for classes. I don’t have a venue.’ She glanced around the shop. ‘That is an old dream now.’

Mal tipped his head to the side. ‘You were going to do those if you got the lease on this place, right?’

‘Yeah. In the evenings. Maybe two evenings a week. Small groups. I’d teach them to do one type of flower each week. A six-week course, maybe.’

‘What if you were to hold them here?’ he said. ‘I know we’re here until late doing the lunches, but you could use the main café, so long as you did the clean-up after you finished …’

She stared at him. Was he offering to subsidise things for her again?

He caught her eye and said, ‘I’m not suggesting I’d give it to you for free,’ he said. ‘I was thinking, what if you paid me a cut of your takings instead? That way, you make money, I make money. It incentivises me to advertise it too.’

That could work. ‘You’d do that?’

‘Sure. The space is just sitting here, you may as well use it. And if the courses are popular, you can buy a coffee order for your clients from me as well.’

She nodded slowly. That could work. ‘If it’s a genuine offer, I will take you up on that. I’ll run some numbers tonight to make sure I’ve covered all the angles.’

‘Who knows,’ said Mal. ‘Now that you’re internet famous, maybe people will flock to your shop.’

A thought occurred. ‘I could maybe record the lessons and sell them online afterwards. For people who aren’t local.’

‘That’s an excellent idea. Do both in-person and online classes.’

Elodie smiled. Suddenly, things didn’t seem quite so bleak. She still needed accommodation, but the rest was falling into place. ‘Now I just need to find a place to live.’ She yawned. ‘I am so tired.’ Before he could suggest she took the day off, she added, ‘But I have to open the shop.’ Shutting the laptop with a click, she stood up. ‘I guess I’ll see you at half ten for the journalist.’

‘Yes. Apparently, it was the videographer that gave her my number,’ Mal said, walking with her to the door.

Elodie raised her eyebrows. ‘The videographer who was flirting with you?’

He grinned. ‘Yes. I gave her my card.’

‘Oh, you did?’

Mal laughed. ‘For the shop. I use my personal number for that too.’ He leaned towards her. ‘You have nothing to worry about. I only have eyes for you.’

She tried not to smile back, but failed. He reached around her waist and pulled her close. ‘You have forgiven me, right?’ he said.

She kissed him in response. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it felt like a healing one. He rested his forehead against hers and said, ‘Don’t worry. We’ll get through this. You’ve got me … if you’ll have me.’

It was the ‘if you’ll have me’ that did it. Suddenly she knew with absolute certainty that she would have him. That she wanted to keep having him next to her for years to come, no matter what she did and whether she succeeded or not, she wanted to do it with him here with her. ‘I’ll have you,’ she said and rested her arms on his shoulders.

They stood there like that for a minute, holding each other. Then Elodie tore herself away to go and open her shop.