She didn’t want to be the one waiting on the street corner, so she made sure to arrive her standard six minutes late. She saw him there as she approached, not on his phone like most people, but leaning against the wall, arms folded, watching the world go by. He was dressed casually in a pair of low-slung jeans and a checked shirt, looking as hot as she had anticipated. Several passing girls gave him a second glance as they went by. Bitches, she thought. He’s mine.
He caught her eye as she approached. ‘Hey, hot stuff,’ he said. ‘You looking for a date?’
‘Did you try that on all those girls?’ she asked, indicating the girls now in the distance.
‘No, just the filthy redheads,’ he whispered in her ear, as he kissed her lightly in greeting. ‘Drink, or food and drink? I’ve booked both.’
‘Duh, food and drink,’ she said.
‘Perfect, a girl after my own heart.’
They set off and she was startled when he took her hand and pulled her into a doorway. He pushed her up against the door and started kissing her, first slowly, then with more passion. Oh god, she thought, not here, not again! Then he just pulled away.
‘Just wanted to break the ice,’ he said. ‘Get us back to where we left off.’
And they set off again. She was left just a little bit behind. She was very flustered. The swelling excitement in her stomach didn’t stop there. She was going to have to be on her game to keep up with this guy, and that wasn’t something she was used to. She was used to having the upper hand, to calling the shots, and she knew that was why this was so interesting. As she walked behind him, she found herself admiring his posture. He was tall and in charge. He also had a very tight ass, she just wanted to—
‘Everything all right, you look… hungry?’
She laughed off her embarrassment.
The restaurant was down some steep little stairs – nothing fancy, very understated and quite dark. There were candles burning on little wooden tables, and for the middle of the city it was very rustic. Like a secret you would only find if someone told you about it.
‘This is my favourite place in London for a steak – please tell me you eat steak. I love a woman who likes meat.’
‘I do eat meat,’ said Dixie. ‘I would have thought that you would have gleaned that…’
‘Well, you’re in the right place then.’
Without another word, he ordered a bottle of house red, two steak frites, rare, and a green salad, if it was included.
‘Quite the control freak,’ said Dixie.
‘Not really,’ he replied. ‘I just wanted to get the boring bit out of the way so I could focus on you.’
‘Are you as in control as you appear?’ asked Dixie.
In that moment, she saw a flicker of doubt flash across his face, and he thought for a moment, then spoke slowly. ‘It’s impossible to control everything, but I try to control what I can, yes.’
Dixie was certain this was a reference to his wife. She reached out and took his wrist. The contact thrilled her. She could feel his pulse thumping under the light touch of her fingers. Was it something that a person ever managed to move on from? Would there ever be room for someone else?
‘Does it still hurt?’ she asked.
He looked down, flustered or confused.
‘Your wife?’ she said, instantly regretting bringing her into the room. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s not my business and I don’t even know you. I shouldn’t have said anything.’
‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘Sometimes I forget for a moment and then…’ He covered her hand with his, sandwiching hers. He looked her in the eye, sadness emanating from his bottomless pools of sexiness. His stare was magnetic. She felt like she had known him forever, like the attraction was stronger than she was, and it terrified her. ‘I’m glad you did. Yes, her absence is always present, you know it’s there, like the moon, even when you can’t see it, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t live my life. What happened was bloody awful. No one’s life should be cut so short, no one should suffer like that, but I was lucky we had the time we did. She wouldn’t want me to become a monk. Even doing what I do, it’s hard to get my head around what we lost. Life is not fair, which is why we’ve got to grab everything good that passes us.’
‘Are you lonely?’ She didn’t know where the question came from.
‘Aren’t you?’ he said.
‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘I always take things as they come, just go with whatever is thrown at me. I’ve never lost a man that mattered to me, not even my ex-husband!’
‘Tell me more,’ said Freddie.
‘Well, I got married when I was 23 and divorced when I was 24 to a man I was never in love with. It was a great party though, and I have no regrets.’
He laughed. ‘Well, that’s very honest – and surprising! To be completely honest with you, I used to be scared of everything, terrified, and watching someone you love suffer is the most petrifying thing in the world. But I don’t think I’m scared any more. I have nothing to be scared of. I’ve seen the worst that fate can deal, and I want to see where I end up.’
‘Live every day like it’s your last… but then I can never pay my bills at the end of the month! You know when that pair of D&G pumps are just begging me to buy them, and I think, well, what if this is my last day and I don’t buy them… I would regret it forever! Who wants to die with regrets?’
‘So how do you break that pattern? Will there be a handsome knight to come along and rescue young Dixie from her hedonism?’
‘Sure, there have been a few self-described knights, some handsome, some not, most flattered to deceive, but none of them were riding quite the right horse. Besides, I am a free spirit, I ride my own horse. I make my own way, I may not have climbed every mountain, but I’ve not missed out on much.’
‘Not many people can say that. So tell me, Dixie, what are the constants, what do you do when you are not getting fingered by strangers?’
She blushed again. He was so bloody direct. He held her stare. That was a look she wanted to capture on paper.
‘You know what I do,’ she answered, looking at him coyly. ‘I am a PA, open book, nothing glam.’
‘Oh yes, of course, what about that amazing doodle you did of that fat guy on the plane? Didn’t you talk about a book?’
Shit, she couldn’t recall mentioning her book. It was something so personal, she often kept it to herself. Fuck, she had to cut back on the drinking, she thought, taking a slug of claret to erase her discomfort.
‘I still have the doodle,’ he said. ‘It’s brilliant. I figured if I ever saw you again, it might be a nice memento of our first meeting. So have you found a place for the duckling yet?’
She giggled. ‘I am an illustrator, but an unpublished one, which makes me not an illustrator, just someone who doodles as a pastime.’
‘And your dream,’ he asked. ‘What’s the dream?’
‘To be published, I guess. I’ve been working on a book for a while. I just need to finish the last illustrations and find a publisher. All sounds so simple!’
‘What’s it about?’