However, while Rachel was irritating, Becky’s behaviour had been painful. Sitting opposite her, he’d had an excellent view of how hilarious she found her date. Although she was avoiding alcohol, she found Virgil intoxicating, blushing and giggling as he whispered in her ear. Charlie’s palms itched every time Virgil casually brushed his hand against hers. And when Becky lifted a napkin to wipe a stray speck of sauce from Virgil’s upper lip, the delicious food in Charlie’s mouth turned to ash.
Only a few weeks ago she said she was immune to Virgil’s charms. Had she had a change of heart? Had Virgil’s disgustingly young, good-looking face and irritatingly eloquent charm won her over?
And if Virgil weren’t enough, there had been her reaction to the cheesecake, which had put him in the ridiculous position of feeling jealous of a dessert.
But now he had her all to himself.
He waved a hand towards her dress. ‘You look nice.’
Oh, brilliant, he thought. Virgil would certainly be able to do better than that.
Becky shrugged. ‘Thanks. And you look great. Positively dapper, dashing, debonair. Any other word of your choice beginning with D.’
He gave her a small, nostalgic smile. ‘How long have you been thinking about that one?’
‘Since I saw you,’ she replied and then stuttered, ‘This evening. Since I saw you this evening. Obviously.’
‘Do you think so?’ He winced as he pulled at his lapels. ‘You don’t think it’s ridiculous?’
‘Not at all!’ She stepped forward to straighten his bow tie. ‘In fact, I would go as far to say the tux gives you an air of 007.’
‘Which one?’
‘Connery, of course.’
Becky was delighted when her comment caused Charlie to smile and pull himself up an inch. Whatever the reason for his initial iciness, a thaw was setting in. And just in time. The doors of the saloon opened and guests poured towards them, eager for a sobering drink and some sugary food before they hit the bar hard.
‘Here they come,’ she said, pulling Charlie aside to save him from being trampled. ‘You should get back to your date. And I’d make sure Rachel gets some cake and definitely some coffee.’ She smiled. Not all of Rachel’s comments had failed to reach her ears during dinner.
‘Rachel doesn’t like cake.’
And that was the final nail in a coffin which had been pretty firmly shut already. She grasped Charlie’s arm and whispered, ‘Doesn’t like cake?’ He shook his head. ‘Not even chocolate?’
‘I guess not. She didn’t touch her dessert.’
Becky gathered up the front of her dress. ‘Excuse me,’ she said and turned towards the saloon. The urge to run was overwhelming as she pictured a delicate morsel of chocolate heaven being swept into a bin by the catering staff. She made it two steps when a firm hand on her upper arm pulled her back.
‘Becky, wait a second. I know you’ve probably got to deal with a chocolate emergency, but I wanted to say something.’
He was making a joke, but he was biting the inside of his cheek and frowning as if delivering news of a sudden death.
She turned back, nodding to let him know to continue.
‘I wanted to say thank you for your Christmas present.’
‘You already said thank you.’
‘I know, but I was talking to Phoebe about it and, well, I don’t think I told you how much I appreciated it.’
‘It’s OK—’
‘No, it’s not.’ His raised voice and the firmness of his tone made Becky sway back onto her heels. Charlie exhaled loudly and ran a hand over his mouth. ‘I find it hard to say … To express …’ His fingers splayed, he raised his hand to the centre of his chest and half circled his wrist in short, sharp movements, but still the words didn’t come.
Becky frowned as she noted the tension in his knuckles and, without thinking, she covered his hand with her own, stroking his fingers until they relaxed. She dipped her head to catch his eye and curled her lips into what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
Charlie closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When the words finally came, they were barely more than a murmur. ‘I love your present. It’s the best thing I received this year. In fact, it’s the best gift I’ve been given in a long time. Thank you.’
She was glad he kept his eyes shut long enough for her to close her mouth and blink the surprise out of her eyes. ‘You’re very welcome.’
Charlie pulled his hand away from hers and ran it through his hair. ‘I’ll let you get back to your chocolate emergency.’
She had turned away again when he said her name and she glanced back. Charlie was biting his lip and his hands were in his pockets. ‘Please don’t tell Phoebe what I said. She tries her best with her Christmas gifts …’
Imagining the number of times Charlie must have struggled to feign delight at cartoon snowmen on socks, ties and sweaters, Becky stifled a smile. ‘Your secret’s safe with me. Now, if you’ll excuse me,’ she said, bobbing an ironic curtsey as she picked up the front of her dress again, ‘I have to see a man about a dessert.’
Chapter 47
When Becky got back to the table, half of Rachel’s abandoned dessert had already been eaten.
Lloyd raised his fork to acknowledge her. As Becky returned his greeting, he pushed the seat next to him away from the table and slid the remains of the cheesecake in front of her. Not waiting for a formal invitation, Becky sat, grabbed what had been Charlie’s fork and got to work.
Lloyd let her enjoy the cake, contemplating her in silence while dozens of waiting staff cleared tables in a series of well-practised manoeuvres. When the last bite had dissolved away she sipped some water and licked her lips. It was time they put all their cards on the table.
‘Thank you for the dresses. Why did you send them?’
‘For my sins, I’ve been working on an extra project since Geoff and Tamara’s wedding back in November. I saw some things there that inspired me.’
He winked at her and something about the gesture clicked the last piece of the puzzle into place. The old devil. How had she not put the two of them together before?
‘You’re Virgil’s uncle.’
He held up his hands. ‘Technically I’m his great-uncle and only by marriage. But when I first met the boy I saw his potential straight away. Nine years old and already capable of twisting anyone around his little finger. Talent like that needs to be cultivated and given an outlet and, with no children of my own, I thought I might be able to hand my businesses over to the boy one day.’
‘And you also take an interest in his personal life?’
‘Naturally. I want him to be happy. And while I would have been delighted if he’d had the sense to fall for a gracious lady such as your good self, it appears I have also passed on to him a weakness for a flintier kind of woman.’
Becky ran a finger through the chocolate sauce on the plate and licked it clean. ‘And how is your project progressing?’
‘Between you and me,’ he said, glancing over his shoulder, ‘I think it’s hit a dead end. The boy will only be satisfied with Barbara’s girl and I don’t think I can be much use there.’