Page 76 of The Grand Duel
“Could you take a detour, please, Scott?”
I see Scott tip his chin in answer.
“Macca’s Parlour.”
“You’ve got it.”
I bite my bottom lip to save my face from quite literally splitting down the middle.
When we get to the ice cream shop, Charles tells me to find a seat and then orders. When he places down the Neapolitan ice cream in front of me and mint chocolate chip in front of himself, I silently pick up my spoon and take a bite, unable to even attempt a thank-you with the way I know my voice will betray me.
We eat in silence for a little while, just enjoying one another’s company—and the ice cream.
I have just under half left when he nudges his bowl towards me. “I was unprofessional back at The Montwell. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.”
I take his ice cream bowl and push mine towards him, unsure if I’ll like the flavour he’s picked. I eventually lift my eyes up to look at him. “I think we’re past professional, Charles.”
He nods, his gaze doing that thing again which makes my insides heat.
I blow out a heavy breath. “Am I bad at this job?” I ask. “It never seemed so hard to get right when I worked for FTR. I feel like I’m messing up every day?—”
“You’re not. It’s not you. I know how difficult I can be at times.”
I purse my lips. “You’re not difficult, you’re just…diff.” I chuckle, a little mortified but mostly amused by myself. “You’re a bit diff, Charles.”
He tries to fight it, but a smile breaks past his lips, and I can’t help but stare as it lights up his entire face. It’s the first time he’s smiled at me. Ever. “Stiff. Diff. Do we need to work on your vocabulary?”
I laugh, still watching him as he uses the spoon to play around with what’s left of my ice cream.
“I tasked you with going to The Montwell so that you wouldn’t have to be in the meeting with Dennis.”
My heart jars in my chest at his admission.
“I should have briefed you and the guys better. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I assure him, fidgeting in the seat.
He catches my eyes again, waits until he has my complete attention. “I wasn’t sure if it was our meeting with them, Dennis and Hannah, that upset you last week. You seemed far off and not…you, after. Just the thought that it was because of the meeting was enough to never have you sit through one again.”
I watch him, transfixed on him and his words. The fact he…cared?
“I also thought tasking you with something I’d only ever do myself was proof I can give up control of things.” He shrugs. “A way to prove Edna wrong. Although I kind of wrecked that by crashing the meeting. Dennis cancelled last minute.” He rolls his lips, maybe a little nervous, or uncomfortable. “You’re unusually quiet.”
I smile gently. “I’m scared if I speak, you’ll stop. This is nice.”
His frown is instant, and he leans back, a little panicked.
“It’s good,” I tell him. “I feel like I’ve been trying to find a way in past your walls for weeks so that I can do my job and help you.” I shrug. “That’s the whole point of Edna employing me, isn’t it? So I can find you a balance?”
His blue eyes flick around my face, contemplating. “I don’t tend to allow much time for anything but the cases I’m working on. I have my friends and family, but even then, I’m…” He frowns, and I know it’s because he’s trying.
“Even then, you’re what?”
He shrugs. “Trying to find the peace.”
A soft frown wrinkles my brow. “Peace for yourself?”
He quickly brushes that notion off, as if it’s stupid. “No, not for me.”