‘Why would it be?’
‘Because we’ve got to sort out the accommodation today.’
‘Oh sure, yeah,’ she says with a wave of her hand. ‘We can worry about that later.’
‘Delaney, what’s going on?’
‘We’re going on a double date.’ She catches herself almost immediately. ‘Well, not adate– but remember how we’re supposed to visit a limoncello distillery?’
‘Vaguely, but shouldn’t we?—’
‘Well, Cherie and Marcus are coming too,’ she says in a rush.
It takes a moment for me to connect the names with the couple we met last night. ‘But how?’ I ask, when what I really want to know iswhy.
‘She DMed me and asked if we wanted to hang out and I said we already had plans and she kinda invited herself along – her and Marcus. But that’s cool, right?’
She looks at me with hopeful, slightly wild eyes, andgodI want to kiss her right now. If only to stop her from rambling. Because it’s clear that under that bubbly surface, she’s as uneasy about our situation as I am.
‘Ah, yeah, that’s fine. But I thought they were single-serving friends?’
She lifts her shoulders, then lets them fall.
‘So, double-serving friends, then?’
‘Sure. Is it really okay that I saidyes?’ she asks, her bravado slipping.
‘Of course, but shouldn’t we tal?—’
‘Talk about what happened?’ she asks.
‘Yes.’
She inhales deeply and heaves out a loud breath.
‘Idon’twant to talk about it,’ she says, ‘but we’re not little kids and there’s every chance we’re going to be working together so…’
She tips up her coffee cup to take the last sip, grimacing as she swallows.
‘Cold?’ I ask.
‘Yeah.’
I cradle mine in my hands. We’ve done it again – taken a left turn to dodge the real conversation. But where do I even begin? I haven’t told Delaney about the would-be wedding, and if I tell her now, she might consider it deceitful that I’ve kept it to myself. Which I suppose it is.
‘There’s something I should tell you,’ I say.
‘That sounds ominous. Let me guess – you’re really an eastern-European prince in disguise, hiding out in Capri so you don’t have to take the throne?’
I snort out a laugh. ‘Where in god’s name do you come up with this stuff?’
She shrugs. ‘I read. And it’s a very popular romance trope.’
‘Okay, but we’re getting off track and I?—’
She leaps up. ‘Can you hold that thought? I really need to pee.’
She goes inside, leaving a Delaney-shaped vacuum in her wake. She’s more guilty of avoidance than I am, but I can’tforceher to talk about what’s going on, short of tying her to the bed and?—