Always, in December(10)
“What can I get you?” the barmaid asked.
“Umm, I’ll have a glass of house red,” Josie said, looking questioningly at Max, who shrugged.
“Sure, I’ll have the same.”
Drinks in hand, Josie managed to find a small corner table and slipped into the booth, leaving him to take the chair opposite. Max grimaced as he sat down. “What’s wrong?” Josie asked quickly. If he was in pain from the accident, maybe she’d allow him to be a bit pissed off with her.
Max raised his eyebrows in a way that suggested she might have sounded a tad too concerned, and nodded up toward the ceiling. She frowned and looked up, but he shook his head. “No, the music.”
She listened. “God, terrible,” she said. “Impossible to escape the endless Christmas songs at this time of year though. You just have to grit your teeth and block it out.”
His lips twitched as he met her gaze, not quite giving in to a full smile or, God forbid, the hint of a laugh. “Cheers to that,” he said, and they clinked glasses. She took a sip. It wasn’t as nice as the wine Bia had brought home, but it wasn’t bad.
Max relaxed back against his chair, his eyes fixed on her face in a way that felt a little intense. “So, Josie. Tell me. What is it that you do, when you’re not off kamikaze bike-riding, running down strangers on the road?”
She took another sip of wine. “Oh, that’s my main profession actually.”
“Aha. That would explain the expert way you did it then. A lot of money in it?”
“Tons.” He did that lip twitch thing again. “I’m in marketing,” she admitted.
“In marketing,” he mused.
“Yeah, I work for an agency.” She paused, then added, in a slightly put-on voice, “Peacock PR and Marketing.”
He let out a short burst of laughter, which surprised her so much that she jumped a little. “Peacock PR? Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“So what kind of thing do you work on?”
She waved a hand in the air. “All sorts. At the moment we’re rebranding a ‘luxury’ beachwear company.” She did the air quotes around “luxury,” because she was very aware that if she didn’t, she sounded far too much like Janice.
He nodded sagely. “Busy time of year for them, is it?”
“You’d be surprised. All the rich people going on beach holidays, getting a dose of winter sun and all that.”
“Or Christmas presents,” he pointed out.
“Exactly.”
“Or, you know, people who want to look sexy in their bikini on Christmas Day. To make a change from the sparkly dress.”
“Right,” she said. “We did some market research a few years ago, turns out a lot of the British population actually swan around eating their roast dinners in bikinis. So my company was like, there’s an untapped market right there.”
He nodded seriously, taking a sip of wine. “Genius. So do they do Christmas swimwear? Themed things like Santa or snowmen or something?”
She laughed. “No, but I’ll pitch the idea to the client.” Her phone buzzed from inside her coat on the booth seat, and she slipped it out of her pocket. Thank God her phone, unlike his, had survived the fall. She definitely did not have any spare cash to be buying a new one right now.
Where are you? Did you get lost?
Bia. Josie tapped out a quick reply.
Just picking up a few things, back soon.
Because, somehow, explaining that she’d nearly run over a strange man and was now having a drink with said man didn’t feel like the kind of thing you relay over WhatsApp. Even if, for Bia, the fact that he was hot would probably be enough explanation.
“Everything all right?” Max asked.
“Yeah. Just my flatmate.”
“Just the one?”
“Yeah, for the last few years. How about you—do you live with anyone?”
He frowned, like the question was unnecessarily intrusive, despite the fact he’d just asked the exact same thing. “No,” he said slowly. “At the moment it’s only me.” She wondered again about her jilted lover theory, but her phone buzzed before she could say anything.
What things?? Whatever it is, stop it and come home. I’m drinking all the wine alone and it’s making me sad.
Josie snorted.
Stop it then! You’ll be hungover for your flight tomorrow.
Exactly. You need to come and save me from myself.
Smiling, Josie tucked the phone away, and looked up to find Max watching her in a way that made heat trickle down the back of her neck. “Sorry, I’m going to have to go. My flatmate flies to Argentina tomorrow and I want to say bye…”
“Of course.” He glanced to the bar, which had filled up quite dramatically since they’d been sitting here, the after-work crowd arriving in force. “Well, I’m not facing that queue for a solo drink.” He got to his feet and finished the last of his wine as she gathered up her coat. Together, they pushed their way through to the front door. Outside, Josie took a breath of cold air, enjoying the feel of the breeze as it whisked away the heat from her neck even as it made her shiver.
Max turned to face her, slipping on his coat. “Well, thanks for the drink. You’ve more than made up for trying to run me over.”