I looked back across the room towards the party he’d left. They were the champagne-drinking group whose arrival had set off a silent proximity alert in my head.
‘What are the chances of us both turning up in the same bar?’
‘About the same as being hit by lightning,’ I said, adding – because it felt like it needed to be said – ‘I’ve actually never been in here before.’
‘Me neither.’ Rhys’s green eyes darkened in puzzlement. ‘The work colleagues I’m with suggested dropping in.’
I stole a quick glance past him to the people he’d come with. Two women in sharp business dresses – the kind I used to favour – were perched on bar stools. Three other men in smart suits were clustered around them. One of the women laughed, really loudly, and it sounded like fingernails running down a blackboard.
I was slow to realise I was being rude, and that behind me Mel and Jackson were practically champing at the bit to be introduced.
‘These are my friends, Jackson and Mel,’ I said, trying to ignore the appreciative ooh well done expression in Mel’s eyes. ‘Mel, Jackson, this is Rhys Davies.’
Rhys extended a hand first to Jackson, who shook it politely, and then to Mel, who totally ignored it and instead sprang to her feet to give the man she’d only just met a brief and totally unexpected hug.
Rhys good-naturedly hugged her back and did a fairly decent job of pretending that her impulsive behaviour was entirely normal.
‘Forgive her. She’s drunk,’ I said, perfectly aware that she wasn’t.
Rhys didn’t stay for more than a minute or two. One of his male companions pantomimed tapping the watch on his wrist, and Rhys turned to me with an apologetic smile.
‘I’m sorry. We’ve got early dinner reservations.’
‘Go,’ I urged, and yet he still didn’t move.
‘I’d love to have stayed and chatted,’ he apologised to my friends, his manners as ever impeccable. ‘But we’re meeting up with some other colleagues at the restaurant.’
‘Looks like you’re celebrating,’ Jackson said, referring to the two upside-down bottles of champagne in the ice bucket on the bar.
‘Something like that,’ Rhys said, looking genuinely torn that he had to leave, which was rather pleasing.
‘I’ll speak to you soon,’ he said, bending down to me.
I schooled my features not to react to the kiss I felt sure he was going to leave on my cheek. Mel would read way too much into my reaction if I did.
But as Rhys bent lower, his lips didn’t graze my skin at all. But he did whisper in my ear, so quietly I had to strain to catch his words.
‘You look really lovely tonight.’
No one said anything as Rhys rejoined his group and the women slid off their stools, picked up bags and jackets, and headed en masse for the door. They began to file out, with Rhys bringing up the rear.
Turn around. If this thing I feel is there for you too, even just a tiny fraction, then turn around before you leave.
‘Why on earth did you hug that guy?’ I heard Jackson ask Mel.
Even though it was a wrench, I pulled my eyes away from the exiting group to glance back at my friends, because I was curious to know the answer to that one too.
Mel looked unperturbed and a little smug, in an I know more than you ever will kind of way.
‘Because I predict he’s going to be in our lives for a very long time, and I wanted to make a welcoming first impression.’
Jackson mimed a swirling finger beside his own temple and said knowingly, ‘Ignore her. It’s the hormones again.’ That earned him a shove that almost made him lose his balance, but I scarcelynoticed because I was staring at the door once more as the last person was about to leave the bar.
I was holding my breath, and I truly had no idea why.
And then Rhys turned around, his eyes finding mine across the room.
And I knew.