Page 45 of Watching Henry

There was silence, the aching breath-holding quiet of waiting.

“I didn't say that,” Florence said, eventually.

Hadley let out her breath. “Then I don't have to apologize.”

“There's nothing to apologize for.”

Florence lingered for a second longer, then she was gone again and Hadley sat down, legs shaking and heart finally beating again.

For a second there all had been lost, but now it wasn't. She thought back carefully over the short conversation. Florence hadn't said that she wasn't interested. Florence's concern was that they worked together, that what they had done was unprofessional.

Which meant that maybe there was still a chance.

She got up to close the French windows, to prepare for bed. Outside the sky was clear and the stars twinkled down. She was closing the doors when she saw a glimpse of movement.

The star arched overhead and Hadley smiled as she watched, smiled and wished and then yawned. She really needed some sleep. She had to be at the coffee shop in the morning, bright and early.

She went upstairs, clutching her wish to herself, knowing that she'd never, ever tell anyone what she'd wished for. For a quiet second she paused outside of Florence's room.

This wasn't fair, she wanted to cry out. They should talk more, communicate, speak their feelings. But she doubted somehow that Florence could ever do that.

She took herself to bed and repeated her wish as she fell asleep. Just one more kiss. That was all she wished for.

Chapter Twenty

“Are we there yet?”

Florence checked the rear-view mirror and saw Charlie smiling cheekily at her. “Not yet,” she said. “A few more minutes. Why don't you and Emily have another game of I-spy.”

He good-naturedly turned to his sister and started the game, whilst Henry glowered at them both from the back seat, headphones firmly plugged in.

She'd needed to get out of the house. Needed to be away from things. Hadley was at the coffee shop, but that wasn't enough. She needed to be in a neutral space, some place where she didn't think about curly blonde hair and big green eyes every time she turned a corner.

There was a problem.

She could admit it to herself.

The problem was that as much as she was sure that telling Hadley no was the right thing to do, the professional thing to do, it wasn't actually the thing that she wanted to do.

What she wanted to do, and the thought made her blush bright red even though she'd never do it and never even speak the words, was to jump straight into bed with Hadley.

But she had a job, she had responsibilities, and as the now daily phone calls from the financing agency reminded her, she had a solid reason for wanting to keep that job.

She indicated and pulled up the exit ramp from the highway.

Which wasn't entirely the whole explanation for why she wasn't at least encouraging Hadley's advances.

The advances of a beautiful, confident, wealthy woman.

Florence's teeth itched and a shiver ran down her back.

She'd known women like Hadley. She'd known the popular girls. And there was a little doubt at the back of her mind, a little voice that kept telling her that this was off-balance. She was, she realized, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Because this could all be a game to Hadley. This had to be a game to Hadley. Why would someone like that be interested in someone like her? It made no sense. She knew what would come next, she knew that she'd be teased or broken or bullied for opening herself up. And she refused to do it.

“Almost there, kids,” she said, pulling the car into the sand and gravel parking lot.

The next half an hour was spent organizing the children to walk nicely and not fight, to go without complaining about tired legs, to carry the picnic and towels and everything else.