My heart sinks as I imagine us together at the restaurant. People staring.The odd couple. Whispering their disgust.
Resolving that I’m not going to be able to hide in my room forever, I pick up my jacket and bag to head downstairs.
Lance sits at the bar, a glass of whisky in hand. He’s chatting with a couple roughly my age. The man looks dapper, dressed in a sharp suit, while the woman wears a floor-length gown and has chic bobbed hair. As I approach, all eyes turn to me.
“Here she is,” Lance says, smiling warmly. “Katie Clark, let me introduce you to Brigadier Marshall and his lovely wife, Stephanie.”
Surprised flickers in their eyes before they remember their manners.
“Lovely to meet you, Katie,” they say in unison. I smile politely and shake their hands.
“Major McDonald and I have been stationed together on various tours,” the Brigadier says, voice rich with respect. “He’s one hell of a soldier. Did he tell you about evacuating the school?”
“No, Lance hasn’t told me that story.” I give him a shy smile. “He’s always modest. Not one to blow his own trumpet.”
Lance rolls his eyes. “I try to leave the war zones where they are. Personally, I don’t want to relive the memories.”
The Brigadier nods, and the two men fall into conversation about Lance’s future— whether he will stay in the army or not. I know how conflicted he is over the issue. We’ve spent hours going round in circles on it.
Stephanie turns to me. “Shall we get a seat, Katie? Let these two talk business.”
I want to say no, but clamp my tongue between my teeth. So much for our romantic night. But seeing Lance talk to someone he respects about his future silences my annoyance. The decision to stay or leave the army is too important; I’ll support him getting any help he can in coming to the right one.
Stephanie and I move to an old leather sofa by an open fire. The flames crackle like popping-candy. I sit, hyper-aware of every line on my face. She smiles kindly, but I can feel her weighing and measuring me. Every minuscule movement I make evidence of something to assess.
“How long have you been seeing the major?” she asks.
“Only a few months. We met while walking our dogs. I had an unfortunate incident with a log and fell into a stream. Lance,”—I pause to consider my words—”helped me, and we became friends.”
“Friends?” she repeats, one eyebrow arching.
I feel a ridiculous need to justify myself. The words come hurried, like an apology. “Yes, friends, then more. I know our relationship is unconventional, but it works.”
“Hmm.” She drops her gaze, then looks back at me. “You know he recently split from his wife? He’s not in a good place. James, my husband, is concerned about him making snap decisions and sending his life in the wrong direction.”
Her words are a punch in my gut. My fragile confidence plummets.
“I’m sure you’re a lovely woman, Katie. But I must question your interest in a young man like Lance. Twenty years from now, you’ll be nearing your twilight years, and he’ll only be in his fifties with years ahead of him. You’ll limit his opportunities to live life to the fullest.”
She sighs as if she believes she’s doing me a favor. “From the conversations James has had with him recently, it’s clear you have him by the balls. He’s besotted with you. I urge you to do the right thing and set him free.”
She leans in, voice low. “Women our age should not be sleeping with young men his age. It’s wrong.” With that, she stands and walks off toward the bathroom.
I watch her go, my cheeks hot, heart cracked. Dumbfounded. And agreeing with her.
A large hand lands on my shoulder. “Are you ready to go, Katie?”
“Yes, I’m starving.” I force a smile. Then turn to the Brigadier standing next to Lance. “It was a pleasure meeting you both.”
He smiles knowingly. For a horrible second, I can’t help but wonder if thischancemeeting was planned.
The restaurant is small and intimate. It’s nestled in a small side lane off the main shopping street, Princes St. The décor is old fashioned and cozy, with dim lighting and fussy decorations. The smells drifting from the kitchen make my taste buds dance.
“Did you know the Brigadier and his wife would be here?” I ask, once we’re seated.
Lance’s eyes rise to mine. “Yes and no. I knew they were in Edinburgh. They knew where we were staying. I wasn’t surprised they appeared.”
The sliver of hope I was holding onto that it was all a coincidence snaps. It wasn’t a chance meeting; tonight was anintervention. An intervention by people who care deeply about the man I’m falling for. A couple who are looked up to, their opinions hold weight. And to them, without even knowing me, I’m not good enough.