‘Has he been a client for long?’ I try not to sound too interested.
‘Since he was a teenager,’ she replies, scanning the information before her. ‘His father does our accounts,’ she adds.
Umeko has been living in the UK for going on forty years now, but her Japanese accent has not faded much with time. Though she’s in her early sixties, she looks a good ten years younger with smooth, unlined skin and barely a grey strand to be found amongst her jet-black locks. She always wears her hair in a sleek topknot at work, but I’ve seen her socially on many occasions and when it’s loose it comes halfway down her back.
It’s like mine in that respect, except where her hair is as straight as a pin, mine is wavy: light-brown and streaked with natural highlights. I also wear it up for work, but it’s a messy bun at the best of times. Sleek topknot it ain’t.
After listening to Sonny and Umeko greet each other like old friends, I head back to my desk and flash Abbey a grin. She picks up a magazine and fans her face, making the wispy strawberry-blond strands that have fallen out of her high ponytail fly away from her round cherub face.
‘How hot?’ she whispers.
‘Shh,’ I reply, but I’m grinning. ‘Apparently he’s been coming here for years. You’ve not seen him before?’
‘No.’
She’s only been here for twelve months so that figures.
Umeko’s previous practice manager was a bossy matronly type who took retirement at the age of fifty-three. She trained Abbey up before she left. Abbey worked alongside Bernard and wasn’t sad to see the back of him. She thinks it’s no coincidence that Umeko went on to hire me, a second younger, livelier member of staff – Abbey’s twenty-six and I’m twenty-seven.
I continue filing NHS forms, but it’s hard to get stuck into it when I know Sonny won’t be with Umeko for long.
Sure enough, he’s done in fifteen minutes.
Umeko sees him to the front room. ‘Have a wander, see what you like the look of,’ she encourages.
‘Can I get you a tea or coffee?’ I ask him. ‘Latte? Cappuccino?’
We have a fancy coffee machine in the kitchen.
‘A latte would be great,’ he replies.
Umeko and I have a quick handover chat while I make his drink. It’s all very straightforward – he mostly wears contact lenses but prefers to use glasses when he’s photo editing at his computer, sometimes late into the night.
When I return, Sonny is trying on a pair of metal-framed glasses in front of the mirror.
‘I like those,’ Abbey says as I place his coffee on my desk.
‘They’re a bit light in colour, I think,’ he replies. ‘A bit too bling.’
‘Are you after metal frames?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, but I’d prefer more of a mid-gunmetal shade.’
‘Have a look at the Kilsgaards,’ I suggest, directing him towards a stand hosting several of the Danish brand.
‘This is exactly the colour I was talking about.’ He picks up a pair and puts them on, checking his reflection.
‘They look great,’ Abbey remarks admiringly.
‘They do,’ I agree. ‘You should try these too.’ I pass him a pair, not wanting him to feel pressured into deciding too quickly.
We encourage him to peruse the other stands, but he ends up going back to the Kilsgaards, settling on the first pair he tried on.
‘Do you want to put those on again,’ I suggest, turning the small mirror on my desk towards him. ‘They really suit you,’ I reiterate. Most of what he tried on did, to be fair. ‘Can I check the fit?’
‘Sure.’
He leans closer to me across the narrow desk space. He smells amazing.
There’s the slightest trace of abrasion under my thumbs as they rest on his cheeks and give the frames a wiggle.
The corner of his mouth tilts up, but he hastily presses his lips together, trying to suppress a smile.
I bite my lip, trying to straighten my own face. His humour is having a contagious effect.
‘Sorry,’ he apologises.
‘It’s okay,’ I murmur, running my fingers along the length of the arms of the glasses to make sure they’re long enough to sit properly on his ears.
Once again, his lips twitch.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ he mutters adorably as we full-on grin at each other.
‘Lots of people get the giggles,’ I reassure him as I complete my checks.
‘I didn’t get the giggles with Bernard,’ he comments drily and a thrill darts through me.
Continue Reading…
The Minute I Saw You
Paige Toon
About the Author
Paige Toon is the Sunday Times bestselling author of over nineteen novels.
To find out more about Paige and her writing, or to join The Hidden Paige newsletter and receive free short stories, visit her website: www.paigetoon.com
@PaigeToonAuthor
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www.SimonandSchuster.co.uk/Authors/Paige-Toon
Also by Paige Toon
Lucy in the Sky
Johnny Be Good
Chasing Daisy
Pictures of Lily
Baby Be Mine
One Perfect Summer
One Perfect Christmas (eBook short story)
The Longest Holiday
Johnny’s Girl (eBook short story)
Thirteen Weddings
The Sun in Her Eyes
The One We Fell in Love With
The Last Piece of My Heart
A Christmas Wedding (eBook short story)
Five Years From Now
One Perfect Christmas and Other Stories
If You Could Go Anywhere
The Minute I Saw You
Young Adult
The Accidental Life of Jessie Jefferson
I Knew You Were Trouble
All About the Hype
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First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2021
Copyright © Paige Toon Limited, 2021
The right of Paige Toon to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
Simon & Schuster UK Ltd
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-4711-9852-6
eBook ISBN: 978-1-4711-9853-3