But at last it was over. We waved them off from the steps, and then Phin closed the door and grinned at me. ‘Very good,’ he said admiringly. ‘You practically had me convinced!’
‘You didn’t do badly yourself,’ I said. ‘You weren’t lying when you said you were a good actor.’
No harm in reminding him that I knew he had been acting.
‘If you can fool a hard-boiled journalist like Imelda, you should be able to fool Jonathan,’ Phin said.
Why hadn’t I remembered Jonathan before? I wondered uneasily. Jonathan was the reason I was doing this. I should have been thinking about him all morning, not about the sick, churning excitement I felt when Phin kissed me.
‘Let’s hope so,’ I said, as coolly as I could. I looked at my watch. ‘We’d better get back to the office.’
‘What’s the rush? Let’s have lunch first,’ said Phin. ‘We should celebrate.’
‘Celebrate what?’
‘A successful interview, for one thing. Promoting Gibson & Grieve’s family image. And let’s not forget our engagement.’
‘We’re not engaged,’ I said repressively.
‘As good as,’ he said, shrugging on his jacket and slipping a wallet into the inside pocket. He held the door open for me. ‘You’re now officially the woman who’s convinced me to settle down.’
‘You may be settling down, but I’m certainly not spending my life with anyone who calls me babe!’
Phin grinned at me as he pulled the door closed behind him. ‘It’s a mark of affection.’
‘It’s patronising.’
‘Well, what would you like me to call you?’
‘What’s wrong with my name?’
‘Every self-respecting couple has special names for each other,’ he pointed out.
We walked towards the King’s Road. ‘Well, if you have to, you can call me darling,’ I allowed after a moment, but Phin shook his head, his eyes dancing.
‘No, no—darling is much too restrained, too ordinary, for you. You’re much sexier than you realise, and we need to make sure Jonathan realises, too. Shall I call you bunnikins?’
‘Shall I punch you on the nose?’ I retorted sweetly.
He laughed. ‘Pumpkin? Muffin? Cupcake?’
‘Cupcake?’
‘You’d be surprised,’ said Phin. ‘But you’re right. I don’t see you as a cupcake. What about cookie?’
‘Oh, please!’
‘Or—I know! This is perfect for you, and in keeping with the baking theme … cream puff?’
‘Don’t you dare!’
‘Cream puff it is,’ said Phin, as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘All crispy on the outside, but soft and delicious in the middle. It couldn’t be better for you,’ he said. ‘That’s settled. So, what are you going to call me?’
I looked at him. ‘You really—really—don’t want to know,’ I said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
PHIN only smiled and took my hand. ‘Come along, my little cream puff. Let’s go and find some lunch. If you don’t want to celebrate our non-engagement, let’s just celebrate the fact that it’s a beautiful day. What more reason do we need, anyway?’
I tried to imagine Jonathan suggesting that we celebrated the fact that the sun was shining, but I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t that he was a killjoy. Jonathan would celebrate a promotion, a rise in profits, a successful advertising campaign, perhaps. But a lovely day? I didn’t think so.
And if he did celebrate he would want to plan it. Jonathan would book the very best restaurant, or order the most expensive champagne. He wouldn’t just wander along the King’s Road the way Phin did, and find the first place with a table in a sunny window.
But that was why I loved Jonathan, I reminded myself hastily. I loved him precisely because he wasn’t spontaneous, because he was the kind of man who would think things through and plan them sensibly, instead of dropping everything when the sun came out, and because he didn’t act on a whim the way my mother and Phin did.
On the other hand, I have to admit that I enjoyed that lunch—although that may have been largely due to the large glass of wine that came with it. I asked for water, but the wine came, and then it seemed too much of a fuss to send it back, so I ended up drinking it. I’m not used to drinking in the middle of the day, and I could feel myself flushing, and laughing a lot more than I usually do.
Perhaps it was relief at having got through the interview. Perhaps it was the sunshine.
Or perhaps it was Phin sitting opposite me, making me believe that there was nowhere else he would rather be and no one else he would rather be with. Having spent months having to be grateful for any time Jonathan could spare me, it was a novel sensation for me to be the focus of attention for a change.
It was so little, really—to feel that Phin saw me when he looked at me, that he was listening, really listening, to what I was saying—but I’d have been less than human if I hadn’t responded, and I could feel myself unfurling in the simple pleasure of having lunch with an attractive man on a sunny day.
It was very unlike me. I’m normally very puritanical about long lunches in office time. I wasn’t myself that day.
I felt really quite odd, in fact. Fizzy, is the best way to describe it, as if that kiss had left all my senses on high alert. I was desperately aware of Phin opposite me, scanning the menu. I could see every one of the laughter lines around his eyes, the crease in his cheek, and that dent at the corner of his crooked mouth which always seemed on the point of breaking into a smile.
I was supposed to be looking at the menu, too, but I couldn’t concentrate. My eyes kept flickering over to him, skittering from the prickle of stubble on his jaw to his hands, to his throat and then back to that mobile mouth. And my own mouth dried at the memory of how excitingly sure his lips had been.
My whole body still seemed to be humming with the feel of his hands, of his mouth, but at the same time it seemed hard to believe that we could have kissed like that and yet be sitting here quite normally, as if nothing had happened at all. I shifted uncomfortably as I remembered how eagerly I had kissed Phin back. What must he think of me?
On the other hand, it hadn’t been a real kiss, had it? It hadn’t meant anything. Phin had made it clear enough that he had only been kissing me for effect, and I wondered if I ought to make it clear that I had been doing the same. And, yes, I know, that wasn’t exactly how it was, but a girl has her pride.
Or perhaps I should pretend to ignore the whole issue?
I was still dithering when Phin looked up from the menu. ‘Have you decided? I’m going to have a starter, too. I don’t know about you, but all that kissing has given me an appetite!’
Now that he had raised the subject, I thought I might as well take the opportunity to make my position quite clear.
‘Speaking of kissing,’ I said, and was secretly impressed at how cool I sounded, ‘perhaps we ought to discuss what happened earlier. I understand why you kissed me—’ I went on.
Phin’s brows lifted and his smile gleamed. ‘Do you, now?’
‘Of course. It created a convincing