“them” between the staff and Jamie and his friends. Not surprising, since we’re working and they’re lounging around doing nothing. I should be more loyal to “us.”
As I go back and forth around the tables, I glance over at Dan as he polishes glasses and chats to Suzy. I get a pang of jealousy when I hear them laughing together. It’s stupid, but I wish his silly jokes were just for me.
I still haven’t spoken to him by the time it’s three o’clock and our shifts end. I get a feeling of definite grimness when I remember I have to now change back into the dress I was wearing last night. It’s not how I was planning to impress him on our picnic that might be kind of a date.
I wait for him outside reception, but after ten minutes, there’s no sign of him. Maybe he’s gone home and the date’s off. He’s heard about my antics last night and thinks I’m not the sort of girl he’d take on a picnic. To be honest, as well as mortifying, the thought is a tiny bit relieving. I still feel so bad that I just want to go home and curl up in bed while my mom brings me a cup of tea.
Dan emerges from the reception door. He’s brought a picnic basket. He’s in his jeans and another rugby shirt and he’s shielding his eyes from the sun.
“Come on,” he says, smiling at me. “I’ve found this really great place.”
We walk through the grounds away from the castle, but instead of going alongside the river, Dan veers off the path and up into a forest. It’s a nature preserve, apparently. I never even knew it was here. The ground angles steeply upward,and we push our way through long grass and ferns. The canopy of trees plunges us into shadow, with occasional sunlight glinting through the branches. I breathe in; it smells fresh, and it seems as though my head instantly clears. Now that the trees are enclosing us from all sides, I can imagine that we’re trekking somewhere—somewhere foreign, exciting, and not here.
I should do it, I think. Keep saving and then just go. I could even go with Dan.
No, that’s probably a stupid idea. I hardly know him.
But by the end of the summer I would.
Dan’s a few yards ahead and calls out, “Here we are!”
There’s a break in the trees, and as I walk out I’m dazzled for a moment by the sunlight bursting through. We’re at the top of a hill, looking out over a lake and, in the distance, more hills and fields. It’s beautiful.
Dan lays down a blanket. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” I kneel down and he opens the hamper. “Now, I psychically worked out your favorite food. That’s right—I know what you love most is leftovers from work!”
I laugh. “So you saw me lurking around the garbage cans, picking up scraps, then?”
“Oh, yes.” He’s unwrapping little packets of foil now. There are honey-glazed sausages, salmon mousse canapés, and slices of olive bread. “And,” he says with a flourish, “fizzy grape juice, because I think there’s a good chance you don’t want wine right now.”
There’s a lump rising in my throat, and for a moment I feel like crying. This is all so nice. I blink a few times to try to stop tears from coming into my eyes.
Dan looks a bit taken aback, understandably. Most peopledon’t cry when offered a sausage. “You look like you could use a hug.”
His expression is kind and smiley, with no hidden meanings. I feel my heart melt with gratitude.
“Well, my mom gives the best hugs, but I suppose you’ll do.”
“I can pretend. I’m told I look good in an apron.”
He wraps his arms around me and I press my head against his chest. It’s warm and comforting and exactly what I want. I blow out a long breath, and it feels like the first time I’ve breathed this morning. I move my head back to look at him.
“Thanks for that.”
His face is serious. “Well, it was pretty horrible for me …”
We both laugh, and then suddenly I lean forward and kiss him lightly on the lips.
“Thanks for
As I go back and forth around the tables, I glance over at Dan as he polishes glasses and chats to Suzy. I get a pang of jealousy when I hear them laughing together. It’s stupid, but I wish his silly jokes were just for me.
I still haven’t spoken to him by the time it’s three o’clock and our shifts end. I get a feeling of definite grimness when I remember I have to now change back into the dress I was wearing last night. It’s not how I was planning to impress him on our picnic that might be kind of a date.
I wait for him outside reception, but after ten minutes, there’s no sign of him. Maybe he’s gone home and the date’s off. He’s heard about my antics last night and thinks I’m not the sort of girl he’d take on a picnic. To be honest, as well as mortifying, the thought is a tiny bit relieving. I still feel so bad that I just want to go home and curl up in bed while my mom brings me a cup of tea.
Dan emerges from the reception door. He’s brought a picnic basket. He’s in his jeans and another rugby shirt and he’s shielding his eyes from the sun.
“Come on,” he says, smiling at me. “I’ve found this really great place.”
We walk through the grounds away from the castle, but instead of going alongside the river, Dan veers off the path and up into a forest. It’s a nature preserve, apparently. I never even knew it was here. The ground angles steeply upward,and we push our way through long grass and ferns. The canopy of trees plunges us into shadow, with occasional sunlight glinting through the branches. I breathe in; it smells fresh, and it seems as though my head instantly clears. Now that the trees are enclosing us from all sides, I can imagine that we’re trekking somewhere—somewhere foreign, exciting, and not here.
I should do it, I think. Keep saving and then just go. I could even go with Dan.
No, that’s probably a stupid idea. I hardly know him.
But by the end of the summer I would.
Dan’s a few yards ahead and calls out, “Here we are!”
There’s a break in the trees, and as I walk out I’m dazzled for a moment by the sunlight bursting through. We’re at the top of a hill, looking out over a lake and, in the distance, more hills and fields. It’s beautiful.
Dan lays down a blanket. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” I kneel down and he opens the hamper. “Now, I psychically worked out your favorite food. That’s right—I know what you love most is leftovers from work!”
I laugh. “So you saw me lurking around the garbage cans, picking up scraps, then?”
“Oh, yes.” He’s unwrapping little packets of foil now. There are honey-glazed sausages, salmon mousse canapés, and slices of olive bread. “And,” he says with a flourish, “fizzy grape juice, because I think there’s a good chance you don’t want wine right now.”
There’s a lump rising in my throat, and for a moment I feel like crying. This is all so nice. I blink a few times to try to stop tears from coming into my eyes.
Dan looks a bit taken aback, understandably. Most peopledon’t cry when offered a sausage. “You look like you could use a hug.”
His expression is kind and smiley, with no hidden meanings. I feel my heart melt with gratitude.
“Well, my mom gives the best hugs, but I suppose you’ll do.”
“I can pretend. I’m told I look good in an apron.”
He wraps his arms around me and I press my head against his chest. It’s warm and comforting and exactly what I want. I blow out a long breath, and it feels like the first time I’ve breathed this morning. I move my head back to look at him.
“Thanks for that.”
His face is serious. “Well, it was pretty horrible for me …”
We both laugh, and then suddenly I lean forward and kiss him lightly on the lips.
“Thanks for
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