The Proposal Plan Page 3

  She pushed her fingers through her curls defensively. ‘What’s the matter with my appearance?’ she demanded.

  He leaned forward again to pick up his glass. ‘Nothing, sweetie, except that Ed is used to you looking like that. We need to make him see you through fresh eyes and the easiest way to do that is by working on your appearance. I know someone who runs the personal shopping service at Jolly’s in town. Leave it to me.’

  ‘Right,’ she said dubiously. ‘Because if your intention is to boost my ego, let me tell you you’re falling way short.’

  He ignored her. ‘Tell me about your average day.’

  ‘Weekday or weekend?’ His businesslike attitude was beginning to tug at the edges of her temper. This was her life they were talking about after all, not some legal transaction.

  ‘Weekday. What do you both do? When do you see each other? How often do you get together?’

  ‘Wow, twenty questions.’

  He simply looked at her expectantly, eyebrows raised as if she were a misbehaving toddler, and she spoke quickly before he could admonish her for not taking it seriously. ‘Well, I get up early, of course. Usually about five so I can get to the bakery and sort out the stock for the day. So he rarely stays over on a week-night.’

  ‘So you don’t see him during the week except in the evening?’

  ‘Well, no, but he usually rings me every day mid-morning,’ she said brightly. ‘That’s if he’s not in the middle of something at one of the houses.’

  Ed was a property developer. Fed up with his job in IT, he’d given it all up three years ago, just before they’d met in fact, and now spent his time buying run-down shacks and doing them up, then selling them on for profit. It wasn’t yet turning out to be the giant money-spinner he always talked it up to be.

  Still, early days, she told herself. Give the guy a chance. She liked the fact that he’d thrown himself into building up a business, being his own boss. Taking responsibility for his own success or failure. It was something she could relate to. After all, it had taken her years of hard graft to build up her cake business. They had a lot in common, and that always made for a good, strong relationship, in her opinion.

  Gabriel pressed on. ‘And how much does he actually do around the house?’

  ‘Plenty.’

  ‘Not good enough. What’s his house like? Imagine you’re married and living together in this lovely flat.’

  She glanced around the perfectly tidy room with satisfaction. She loved her little flat, filled with unusual bits and pieces of furniture that she’d picked up in markets and antique shops. Gabriel had always teased her about it, telling her she was ‘nesting’.

  ‘Imagine you go away on holiday or business for a week,’ he went on. ‘You leave him alone here. Based on what you know of him, what would the place be like when you got back?’

  She pulled a face. ‘Well, he’s not that good on his own, to be honest. He’s not really a cook, so he’d probably have lived on pizza and takeaways. The place would most likely look just like his house. A hovel. You’d feel at home in it!’ She dodged as he threw a cushion at her.

  ‘I’m not that bad!’

  ‘Your flat is a pigsty, Gabe. Face facts. The only time there’s been any semblance of order was when I stayed with you and that’s only because I can’t live in your kind of squalor.’

  ‘You’re not doing yourself any favours here, you know.’ He put on a hurt expression. ‘Anyway, we’re talking about Ed, not me. What else?’

  She pursed her mouth, considering. ‘There’d be an overload of washing. I’m not sure he knows how to work the machine.’

  ‘Pathetic!’

  ‘And the plants would probably be dead. He never remembers to water them.’

  He held up a hand to stop her. ‘I think I’ve heard enough. Basically, Lu, and I’m going to be brutal here…’ She looked at him expectantly. He paused dramatically then announced loudly, ‘You have become Ed’s mother.’

  Silence for a moment while this sank in and then she exploded. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous! You’re twisting everything. You make it sound like he’s some layabout slob who doesn’t lift a finger while I do everything!’

  ‘Sounds about right.’

  She stood up, feeling irrationally that it might somehow give her the advantage to be taller than him. ‘You’re wrong, Gabriel. We’re just very different people with different priorities. There must be millions, zillions of couples just like us.’

  ‘I’m sure there are,’ he said with calm amusement. ‘But what you think you have is the traditional “he hunts it, she cooks it” model of relationship. Only trouble is, unless he changes his ways you will hunt it and cook it because, face it, if you get married to Ed, you are going to be the main breadwinner.’

  ‘That has nothing to do with it!’

  ‘It has everything to do with it!’

  Hands on hips, she glared at him angrily.

  He held his hands up in a calm-down gesture. ‘OK, let’s take a different approach. Have you told him about going to the dinner as my date yet?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, relaxing a little at the change of tack. She sat down again. Ed had been more than reasonable when she’d asked him. Let’s see you pick holes in that, Gabriel.

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘He was totally fine about it, as a matter of fact. Didn’t bat an eyelid. Even told me to have a good time,’ she said triumphantly.

  ‘Oh, dear.’ He looked at her sympathetically.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘Well, it’s good for me, of course, problem solved for the dinner and dance. But for you… you are being taken for granted! Big time.’

  She felt her temper strain madly at its leash. This was rapidly becoming a character assassination of Ed and she wasn’t going to take it lying down. ‘I don’t see that,’ she countered coldly. ‘Surely it’s a positive thing that he’s being so reasonable.’

  ‘Aha! That’s where you’re wrong.’ He leaned in close to her suddenly, grabbed her wrist and looked into her eyes. Her stomach made a sudden unexpected flutter and she felt her pulse increase. She ignored it, assuming it must be part of the effort required to keep her temper from flaring. ‘Lucy, if I was in a relationship with you, lovely you, I would not let you go on a date with any other guy but me. I wouldn’t care whether he was your friend, if he was gay, whatever.’

  She looked into his eyes. Clear slate grey filled with nothing but genuine love and concern for her. The pit of her stomach felt warm and soft suddenly, like melting chocolate. She felt the tiny spark of a long-forgotten memory, almost there and then gone again. Her mind felt adrift, as if sand had suddenly shifted below her and she was no longer standing firm. What the hell is this? Grappling for self-control, she focused hard on her train of thought.

  ‘He used to be like that when we first met,’ she protested in a small voice. ‘He couldn’t stand the sight of you.’

  ‘There you go.’ He released her hand and sat back with a triumphant nod, grabbing his wine glass as he went. She felt an odd sensation of loss and put her hand in her lap to compensate. ‘He’s got used to the fact that you will always be here, you’ll never look at anyone else, no one else will ever look at you…’

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘I’m not criticising you, Lu, I’m just telling you that he’s got complacent. He’s taking you for granted. No need to make an effort because he counts on you always being here. Stopped working at it, hasn’t he? That’s the key.’ He was nodding his head emphatically.

  ‘What is?’ She was rapidly losing the point of this conversation. Hadn’t it been to focus on the positives of her relationship? Instead he seemed to be implying that Ed was coasting along and taking her for granted. Just what was going on here?

  ‘He thinks he’s got it all sewn up. He doesn’t need to propose to you because he’s already got you. What we need to do is shake that perception up a bit. Make the ground shake a little bit underneath him. Make him realise
how fabulous and gorgeous you are and that he has to work to keep you.’

  That sounded a bit more like it. ‘OK, so how do we do that, Sherlock?’

  ‘You need to move the goalposts,’ he said firmly. ‘One of the things you can do is see a bit more of me. Get him to miss you a bit. I’m the winner then, too, because I get to spend a bit more time with you. I’ve missed you since you moved out.’

  The warmth in her stomach bubbled back up again and she took a hefty slug of wine to stop it. That strange sense pervaded her again, of falling backwards in time. She shook her head as if to clear it. Of course, she assured herself firmly, it was perfectly normal to feel nervous and emotional. She was sitting here planning her future, after all.

  ‘Have you?’ She’d missed him at first, too, after she’d moved out of his house. It had been lovely seeing him every day for those few months after her arrival in Bath.

  ‘Yes.’ He grinned mischievously. ‘The house has a more relaxed look about it without your obsessive tidying and I get to keep the remote control to myself. But I kind of miss having a fridge full of proper food and coming home to someone. I liked talking to you every day.’

  She took another glug of wine and reminded herself that this was Gabe she was talking to. Her best friend with her best interests at heart. He wouldn’t be trying to assassinate her relationship; he really was only trying to help, which, after all, was what she’d asked him to do. ‘Aww, that’s sweet. Bit of a backhanded compliment though. And “relaxed” isn’t a word I’d use to describe your hovel. You’ve got a nerve criticising Ed’s domesticity.’

  ‘This isn’t about me, though, is it? And anyway, backhanded compliments are the best kind. I’m saying I wish you still lived with me despite all your faults. Not the same as wanting you to change.’

  ‘Hmm, I suppose so,’ she said grudgingly.

  He refilled her glass, then his own. ‘So you agree on how to proceed? Excellent. Why don’t you come to lunch with my parents this Sunday? They’d love to see you. They’re always asking about you.’

  ‘You mean go back to Gloucestershire?’ She felt a vague sense of unease and squashed it. She generally avoided going back to her home county, as if the new life she’d built since leaving would somehow be challenged by revisiting her old one. Her parents were long gone from there, of course, but the memories wouldn’t be.

  ‘Of course. Sunday roast. Not cooked by you. Sound tempting?’ He grinned at her expectantly.

  She debated to herself. She knew she should put an end to the avoidance of anything relating to her childhood. She was an adult now and could recognise it for what it was. Maybe going back to Gloucestershire would do her good—she could lay a few ghosts, and she had to admit he had a point about Ed. Wasn’t absence meant to make the heart grow fonder? They had fallen into a bit of a rut recently, doing the same things on the same days.

  She gave in. ‘It does sound tempting. And I suppose you could be right—perhaps Ed needs to miss me a bit.’

  ‘He definitely does. He needs to appreciate you a bit more and feel like he’s lucky to have you and he ought to snap you up officially just to make sure. He feels too sure of you, that’s the root of the whole thing. And in the meantime, we’ll have a look at your appearance and see what we can do with that. And I need to observe you out together socially.’

  Lucy looked doubtfully down at her plain T-shirt and jeans with a vague but undeniable feeling of dread at the idea of Gabriel analysing her wardrobe. In an attempt to divert him she latched onto his second suggestion. ‘No problem. We’re all meeting up tomorrow night at that new wine bar on George Street. You could come along if you like. Do all the observing you want to.’

  ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘Ed’s friends,’ she said. ‘Well, mine, too, of course. There’s Digger and Yabba, and their other halves, Suzy and Kate. Probably one or two others—it varies depending on who’s free.’

  ‘Digger and Yabba,’ Gabriel repeated. ‘They sound like rejects from some kids’ TV show.’

  Lucy laughed. ‘That’s their nicknames. No one in Ed’s friendship group is called by their proper name. It’s a man thing. Even Ed isn’t his real name.’

  ‘You’re kidding,’ Gabriel said with sudden interest. ‘What is his real name?’

  ‘Roland,’ she said, expertly ignoring Gabriel as he almost choked on his wine with a sudden snort of laughter. ‘Ed is some schoolboy name to do with heading a football or something. I’ve never questioned it because frankly Roland is awful and Ed suits him far better.’

  Gabriel shook his head in mock wonder. ‘There’s a whole laddish culture going on that seems to have passed me by.’

  ‘You haven’t missed much,’ she said. ‘It might have been vaguely funny once when they were in their teens but there’s something a bit sad about having the nickname Yabba when you’re pushing thirty and working as a fireman.’

  She leaned back on the sofa and looked at him expectantly. ‘So what do you think, then?’ she asked. ‘Do you want to drop in and join us for a drink?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Should be interesting. Are there any single women going?’

  She threw her hands up in exasperation. ‘For heaven’s sake, Gabriel, can’t you forget about your next conquest just for one night? Is it too much to ask? You’re meant to be concentrating on me and Ed, not chatting up the nearest single woman.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ A pause. ‘But are there? Any single women going?’

  She sighed wearily. ‘Well, there’s Joanna, I suppose. She’s Kate’s sister. She’s been single for a bit and she’s started hanging out with us. But she’s been through a horrible break up and the last thing she needs is a three-week dalliance with the likes of you!’

  ‘That hurt!’ he protested. ‘I just meant it would be nice if I wasn’t the only single person there, that’s all.’

  ‘Hmm,’ she said dubiously. ‘I’ll believe you. Thousands wouldn’t. I take it that means you’re coming, then? Eight o’clock at Hardings. I’d tell you not to be late but there would be no point, would there?’

  CHAPTER THREE

  LUCY glanced at her watch for the third time. Quarter to nine now and still no sign of Gabriel. His habitual lateness never usually bothered her and she was annoyed with herself for letting it get to her this evening. Despite the fact that she’d asked him for help, his negative comments about her relationship with Ed had been getting on her nerves. She’d been looking forward to proving him wrong by showing just how great a time she and Ed had together. Not that tonight seemed to be going that way so far, she admitted to herself. Ed’s day hadn’t gone well—a structural problem had been picked up at the house he was currently working on and it was going to be costly to have it sorted out. She noticed he’d moved on to whisky from his usual beer and it wasn’t even nine yet. Great. Maybe it would be for the best if Gabe didn’t turn up after all. The last thing she needed was him to see Ed slowly getting drunk at the opposite end of the table from her. Just how the hell would that look?

  As if he had somehow read her mind, the door suddenly swung open at the end of the bar and Gabriel sauntered in, absently looking at his mobile phone as he walked, in no rush whatsoever. He glanced up, quickly searched the room and, seeing her, made his way over to their table. She saw out of the corner of her eye Joanna, the only single girl there, sit up imperceptibly as he approached and viewed him herself for a moment with objectivity. He was wearing a dark shirt, open at the neck, quite snug-fitting, which showed off the heavily muscled shoulders and brought out the depth in his grey eyes. Outside the weather was cold with a tinge of fog in the air and the moisture had tousled his dark hair a little. She gave herself a little shake to clear her head and pasted a smile on her face as she got quickly to her feet.

  ‘You came,’ she said through slightly gritted teeth. ‘Finally.’

  ‘Am I late?’ he whispered in her ear as he leaned in to kiss her cheek, and his breath felt warm against her neck. She felt the
shivery sensation of goosebumps beginning and moved away from him as quickly as she could.

  ‘No more than usual,’ she said, and mustered a more genuine smile before turning to the table. ‘Everybody, this is my friend Gabriel. Gabriel, this is Digger and Kate, and Yabba and Suzy. Digger and Yabba play football with Ed.’ Nods were exchanged around the table. ‘And this is Joanna.’ Lucy gestured towards the blonde at the end of the table, who was apparently unable to tear her gaze away from Gabriel. ‘And you know Ed, of course.’ Ed raised his whisky glass in a perfunctory hello gesture from the other end of the table.

  She sat down as Gabriel hooked a spare chair from a nearby table. Fully expecting him to sit next to her, she felt a little piqued as he dragged it two spaces away and sat down between Joanna and Yabba. She was left to continue the conversation with Kate, who was sitting on her left, about the plans she was making for the summer holidays later in the year.

  Gabriel lost no time in buying a round of drinks and then quickly immersed himself in quiet conversation with Joanna. Ed was steadily getting drunker at the other end of the table and Lucy sipped her own glass of orange juice defiantly. If this was the way the evening was going to go, with her boyfriend and her best friend both apparently having no need of her to have a good time, she would damn well make the most of her own company.

  Time and again her eyes strayed to Gabriel. She found she was able to largely tune out the ongoing conversation with Kate and Suzy, who were planning a shopping trip in the next few weeks, and who invited her along with no real conviction because they were both fully aware that Saturdays were one of the busiest days of the week for the cake shop. The occasional yes or no seemed to maintain her part in the discussion perfectly well. Joanna’s curtain of blonde hair swung glossily as she leaned in towards Gabriel. She seemed oblivious to the rest of the table. Lucy felt a stab of annoyance. And she had every right to feel annoyed, she told herself. She’d invited him out after all, to watch her interact with Ed, and yet he’d barely glanced her way even once. Lucy found she was able to make out the occasional snatch of conversation between them.