Page 50 of The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop

What on earth was she doing, going out on a date with another man? This just didn’t feel right. But Max would be on his way by now. It would be downright rude to cancel at the last minute.

She carefully placed the black cocktail dress back into the wardrobe, then found a green floral print wrap-around that looked promising. Not too smart, not too casual, and a colour she loved – green always contrasted well with the red of her hair. She sat at her dressing-table mirror, the dress now on, and she popped on some red lipstick which looked rather bright compared to her normal gloss. She even ventured so far as eyeshadow.

She could do this thing, she told herself. It was just a meal after all.

Her phone pinged. A text from Bev: You okay? Chosen your outfit? x

Em answered: Yes, the green dress. x

Yes, I remember that one – gorgeous, good choice! Followed swiftly by another message: You can do this. It’ll all be fine. I’m so proud of you x

Emma knew her game – she was definitely trying to make sure Em didn’t back out at the last.

She was ready; well, as ready as she ever would be, and began checking the road from her upstairs window for any sign of Max. This was all such unknown territory. The odd date she’d had so far (odd being the appropriate word) had felt strangely safe. She had kept her distance, realised it was never going to work, and then called it a day. Her technique was to just lie low for a while and not answer their calls – they soon got the idea.

But this … this felt unnervingly different.

Ooh – there he was. The grey jeep had parked outside and there was Max stepping out, holding what appeared to be a bouquet of flowers. She took a deep breath and headed down the stairs.

Max was hovering at the entrance to the shop, dressed smartly in a navy jacket, white shirt, and dark jeans, looking slightly nervous in a cute kind of way. It was already dark outside, and the street lights glowed as a backdrop.

Max gave her a polite kiss on the cheek as he handed over a beautiful bunch of roses and carnations in shades of pink and white. Their scent was just delightful. She hadn’t been given flowers in such a long time. Aw, he’d made a real effort.

‘Your carriage awaits, madam.’ He gave a mock bow.

‘Just give me one second. The flowers, I’ll put them in water. Don’t want them to wilt, whilst we’re out.’

‘Of course.’

Emma was as quick as she could be popping them into cool water, and was soon back out, ready to jump into the passenger side of the jeep.

‘You look amazing, by the way …’ Max grinned across at her.

Emma positively glowed.

The bistro was lovely, set in an old stone house on Alnmouth High Street. They were ushered to a cosy corner with a candlelit table for two. Very nice, very romantic. No wonder Bev had set her up here; Emma would have chosen something far more casual.

They ordered a glass of wine each while they perused the menu – all sorts of delicious options. They talked about how nice it seemed there, and their work that week – safe ground.

Emma chose sea bass for main, served Asian-style with ginger and sweet chilli (she might have room for dessert, that way, not having a starter) while Max plumped for a fillet steak, medium rare. She sipped her wine, a cool, crisp Chablis, as they chatted.

Something had been troubling Emma, and she needed to know before she let herself get carried away with thoughts of this guy. ‘Max … your girlfriend. How long were you together for?’

He seemed a bit surprised by the turn in conversation. ‘Oh, just over four years.’

Wow, so it wasn’t some quick fling or anything. No wonder he’d grown fond of her parents.

‘Why are you asking? That’s all over, you know. I’m not the kind of guy to mess with two women. Not my style at all.’ He looked serious. ‘And what about you?’ He turned the conversation round. ‘You seem so cautious. So, come on Emma, what is it with you? Did some guy mistreat you, let you down? It doesn’t make us all bad, you know.’

‘No, I know.’ She tried to smile, but her face felt tight. ‘It’s not that.’ She found she couldn’t answer further. This was the wrong time and place to drag out her past. She wanted to just sit, eat, relax, and try and enjoy the here and now. It was her fault for quizzing him first.

His brow wrinkled, but he realised that was as much as she was going to say on that this evening.

‘Right, then,’ he lifted the mood. ‘Are you ready for quick-fire round?’

‘What?’ Em was confused.

He started firing questions, like they were on a speed date. ‘Your age, madam?’