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“Anna, you look —”
“I’m fine.”
We focus on eating, but my eyes keep lifting to check where Jeremy is looking.
The girl comes to clear our dishes and, luckily, blocks the line of sight from our table to his.
“You look a little flushed, Anna.” Mum’s smirking at me, and I just shake my head at her.
“I’m going to the bathroom.” I stand and head towards the entrance, hoping they’re that way. Of course, I’m too busy hoping Jeremy will notice me that I don’t see the bathroom sign. I have to ask at the bar and turn around, heading back towards our table and a skinny little passageway.
I feel so awkward, and when I look at myself in the mirror I cringe. My cheeks are red, and I have a little shadow of black over the top of my eyelid from the mascara.
I splash some water on my cheeks to cool down and set about rubbing the misplaced makeup off my browbone.
I don’t know why I’m acting like this. I didn’t have a problem going up to him at school. Granted, the conversation that followed wasn’t too hot, but here, I feel all out of sorts.
After checking my top for splashes of oil or food, and making sure nothing is stuck in my teeth, I take a breath to compose myself and walk back out. His head is down, watching his precious phone, and I slide back into my seat unnoticed.
“Better?” Mum asks.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s cute.”
Our main courses arrive, and the lobster looks amazing, but it doesn’t stop me from giving Mum my most disapproving look. “I’m not cute.”
She laughs. “Well, that’s debatable.”
Her good mood is infectious, and I can’t help chuckling a little, too.
“Hey, Anna.” I look up to see Jeremy standing next to our table.
“Hi, Jeremy,” I force the words out, stunned that he’s standing next to us.
“The lobster is excellent.” He nods at the plate in front of me.
“You had it, too?” My tongue feels funny in my mouth as I speak, and my stomach is suddenly doing flips.
“Not today. My family eats here when the chef has the night off.” His voice is so matter-of-fact that I don’t think he realises the impact of his throwaway comment.
“Chef?” I ask, my voice squeaking a little.
“We have a house in the Cove. Mum doesn’t like to cook, so we have a live-in chef. We come here for celebrations and on her nights off.” He looks right at me as he speaks, and I can’t escape his eyes. They are so dreamy.
I knew Jeremy was rich but I didn’t realise he was Constance-Cove-own-chef-rich.
“Are you in the Cove, too?” he asks, and I take a moment to put my thoughts together to answer.
“Um, no.” I sit up a little taller. “We’re staying just down the road.”
“Cool. Maybe we can meet up if you’re down here for the summer.”
Did I hear that right?
“Um, yeah. Well, sure… for the next few days.”
“I’ll text you.”
