Page 57 of The Grand Duel

An ice cream shop.

I rub a hand over my face, watching as she just stares up at the sign that saysMacca’s Parlour. “Are you going inside?” I ask after a minute, relenting.

She looks up at me as if she didn’t know I was behind her. As if she doesn’t know the world still spins and that my heart hasn’t stopped pounding in my chest since she asked to stop the car.

“Charles.” She shakes her head. “I’m so sorry about before. The water. Making a scene before the meeting with Hannah. I just…” Her eyes search mine. “I’ll be back before my lunch break ends. I just need to clear my head.”

I watch her, then step towards the door and pull it open.

She’s hesitant, her gaze wary as it rakes me, but eventually she walks inside.

With the assumption she wants ice cream, I lead the way to the back of the line and wait with her.

She stands with her arms wrapped around herself, eyes zeroed in on a spot beyond the counter. The chatty, no-filtered woman I’ve come to know over the last few days going silent on me.

I don’t like that much, either.

It unsettles me.

When it’s our turn at the counter, we both step forward. “What flavour?” I ask.

She surveys the counter. “Neapolitan, please.”

Neapolitan? “Go and sit down, I’ll get it.”

“I can?—”

“Go and find us a seat, Lissie.” I cut her off.

I pull out my phone and text Scott telling him we’ll call him when we’re done. Would be a lot simpler if I had my car and didn’t have to rely on a driver, but that’s Edna for you.

I order Lissie’s ice cream, pay, and then carry it to the table she’s sat at.

She watches me with a thoughtful gaze as I place it down in front of her and sit opposite. “You didn’t want any?”

“I don’t tend to eat ice cream for lunch.”

She gives me a look, her face a little less troubled than before. “Well, thank you.” She hugs the dessert glass with her delicate hands. “You don’t have to stay.”

I give her a look right back.

“You’re just going to sit there and watch me eat instead?”

I don’t know what I’m doing here. But I don’t think leaving her whilst she’s visibly upset is the right thing to do, either. I also know I need to apologise for before. But what do I say?

That the second I had her in my grip, she made me feel like an aeroplane plummeting to the earth just from looking into her eyes.

I think I’d rather let her think I’m an ass.

When I don’t reply she reaches for a spoon and sinks it into the middle of one of the three scoops.

She brings the spoon to her mouth, closing her eyes as she takes a mouthful.

I can’t seem to take my eyes off her.

“Can you go and get yourself a cone or something? I can feel your beady eyes on me. It’s creepy.”

I shake my head, not looking away. “I don’t want any.”