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Authors: Lucy Felthouse

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Chapter Three

 

Adele stared after Oliver as he scarpered from the sauna.
What the fuck had just happened? One minute he’d been making her feel better
about the three witches and the next he’d been telling her he liked her—in
that
way.

It had been so long since a man had come on to her—it seemed
there was an extreme shortage of men in her area who liked the larger lady—that
she’d forgotten what it was like, how things worked, how she should respond. As
a result, she’d gawped very unattractively at him until he’d run away
screaming. Okay, not screaming, but he’d been moving pretty fast.

Well, that was that, she decided. Oliver had liked her but
now she’d managed to scare him off and the poor guy would probably never speak
to her again. Gone were the nods and smiles, the little waves. She’d probably
driven him into the arms of those horrible women. They had been perving on him,
after all. He could clearly take his pick and she wouldn’t blame him if he did,
though he’d said he didn’t find them attractive. For all their faults and
unpleasantness, at least they knew what they wanted and went after it. She’d
spent months sneaking covert glances at the hunky lifeguard and that was pretty
much it. He’d have to have been a mind reader to realize that she was attracted
to him too. And now she’d blown it. It served her bloody right.

Grr. It looked as if she would have to resort to online
dating after all. She’d been hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but it appeared
that if she didn’t want to be single forever, then she’d have to give it a go.
At least if she was upfront about her size and posted a recent photo on her
profile, then men simply wouldn’t connect with her if they didn’t like the look
of her. She wouldn’t even know about the rejections, so she couldn’t be hurt
and upset by them. It was the perfect solution—there had to be an eligible
bachelor out there who wouldn’t be put off by her weight. She knew for a fact
that some men positively adored big girls. Some of them even paid Rubenesque
chicks to sit on them and stuff like that. She wasn’t into that kind of thing
herself, but at least it proved that not every man on the planet preferred slim
girls.

There was someone out there for her, she knew it. She’d just
have to be patient until he emerged from the woodwork. And hope like hell that
she liked him too.

* * * * *

At work later that afternoon, Adele hummed away happily as
she put the finishing touches to a chocolate cheesecake and popped it into the
fridge, where it would wait patiently until that evening when the pub resumed
serving food after the afternoon break. It always went down a treat, the
chocolate cheesecake, so it was one of the things she made most often, but not
all the time. For her, the beauty of running an independent place was that
there was no set menu to adhere to, no stock shipped in from a central
warehouse to stick in an oven or throw into a fryer. Everything was made from scratch,
and the offering was never the same two days running.

The customers appreciated it too. She often got messages
passed on to her through the restaurant staff, and sometimes she was even asked
to come out into the restaurant and receive her compliments in person. Adele
hated that, partly because she was convinced that one day it was going to be a
complaint, not a compliment, and partly because she knew people looked at her
and thought it typical that such a skilled chef was overweight. They probably thought
that she sampled everything she cooked, which was why she was so big.

Fortunately, in the five years she’d been working at the
Wagon and Horses—ever since she and Alexander had bought the place—she’d only
ever received nice comments. She continued to work really hard to ensure it
stayed that way, not least because word of mouth, delicious food and good
customer service were what helped places like theirs to stay afloat in the
tough economic climate. Their competition was fierce—really cheaply priced restaurants
that served huge portions—but they were doing just fine, thankfully. So Adele
stuck to her way of doing things, as it was clearly working.

One thing she always did before they started serving food in
the evenings was to take a break. Once all her prep was done, she’d make a
salad or a sandwich or something and go and eat it in a quiet corner of the
restaurant. Hardly anyone came in at bang on five o’clock, and if they did they
didn’t usually want food just yet, so she took advantage of that and gave
herself a breather before she was forced back into the kitchen, never to be
seen again. Until closing time, anyway. Her job was intense and often
crazy-busy, but she enjoyed it.

Today in particular, she’d certainly appreciate the lack of
time to think during her shift, given the incident with Oliver. Hopefully she’d
be so busy that when she got home she’d collapse into bed after her shower and
fall asleep straightaway. Of course, that still left dreams and tomorrow
morning for his potential appearance, but she’d just have to take one step at a
time.

Putting a decent-sized salad onto a plate with just the
tiniest drizzle of dressing, she headed out into the restaurant and sat down to
eat her meal. When she heard the door open, curiosity made her look up to see
who’d come into the establishment. When she saw who it was, she gave her arm a
pinch to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep somehow and was dreaming the whole
thing. If she was awake, Oliver Shaw had just walked straight out of her
conscious thoughts and into her restaurant.

He didn’t see her, tucked away as she was, and he headed
directly to the bar. God, perhaps he was as upset as she was if he was so
desperate for a drink that he was here so early. Maybe it was just as well that
nothing had happened between them if he turned to alcohol every time there was
a minor crisis. Goodness knew what he’d be like if something went
really
wrong.

“Excuse me,” he said to Alexander, who was restocking the
fridges behind the bar.

“What can I get you?” Alex said, standing up and turning
around with a grin.

“No, nothing. Sorry. I’m really sorry to bother you, but
could I use your phone please? My car’s just broken down on the road outside
your pub, and just to make my day so much worse, my phone battery is dead!”

Adele watched the proceedings with interest. Really,
Alexander would have been quite within his rights to make Oliver use the
payphone in the corridor, but he wasn’t that kind of guy. He was decent,
polite, fun and good-looking. It was a crying shame that he wasn’t into girls.
His partner, Marcus, worked at a local insurance broker’s and helped them out
when they were really stuck. He made a mean lemon meringue, too, and it was
occasionally added to the menu for the customers.

The two men lived above the pub and Adele had spent many an
evening in their flat watching films and generally having a laugh. She was
lucky to have them and she knew it. When she got a chance, she’d tell them
about what had happened with Oliver and get their advice. The only reason she hadn’t
mentioned him before was because she knew they’d keep pushing her to do
something about it, and she liked to do things in her own time.

“Sure,” Alex said, offering Oliver a sympathetic smile, “no
problem…”

“Oliver. Thanks, mate, you’re a lifesaver.”

“I’m Alex. And you’re welcome.” The two men shook hands over
the bar, then Alex lifted the phone from the shelf beneath the bar and put it
in front of Oliver. “Do you need any help moving the car? Is it blocking the
road or anything?”

Oliver shook his head. “No, thankfully. When it started
losing power I managed to steer it onto the pavement out front. So it just
looks like a really bad parking job.”

“Well, if the recovery people need to look at it before
towing you away, you can use the car park. We won’t be busy for a while. And
hey, who knows, people might pull in just to see what’s going on!”

Oliver laughed, his blue eyes sparkling. “Thanks again,
mate. That’s really decent of you. I’ll let you know.”

With that, he pulled his wallet out and retrieved a credit-card-shaped
piece of cardboard, put it down next to the phone, picked up the receiver and
dialed the number from the card.

Adele realized she’d stopped eating as her natural nosiness,
and then surprise, had caused her to stare at, and listen to, what was
happening with Oliver and his broken-down vehicle. Now she forced herself to
keep munching away at her salad, figuring that the sooner she finished, the
sooner she could scurry back into her kitchen, and the hunky lifeguard would be
none the wiser.

After pressing a few more buttons—poor Oliver was obviously
navigating his way through an automated call system—he finally got through to
someone and relayed his problem. He told them where he was, then nodded in
response to whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying,
uttered his thanks and hung up.

“All right, mate?” Alex said, putting the phone back in
place—he hated things being left lying around.

“Yeah.” Oliver said, looking downcast. “They said they’ll be
here in about an hour. I’m not in a remote area and I’m not a lone woman, so I
don’t take precedence. Luckily I was just going home. I finished my shift at
work, then did a few chores. Thankfully I didn’t go food shopping, or I would
have had a bunch of stuff thawing out in the boot of the car!”

“We’d have stored it for you,” Alex said. “Now, can I get
you a drink or something to eat while you’re waiting?”

“You’re a gentleman, Alex. Thank you. Yeah, since I’m here,
I may as well take advantage. I’ve actually never been in here, though I’ve
heard good things. So, what can you recommend?”

“Drinks or food?”

“Both, please.”

“Okay, well do you want alcohol or a soft drink?”

“Ha. As much as I’d love something boozy to take the edge
off my car breaking down, I’d better not. So a soft drink would be great.”

“Okay, well we’ve got all the usual stuff, fizzy drinks,
juices, mineral water…”

“A pint of Diet Coke would be great, thanks. No ice,
please.”

“Coming up. And as for food, you’d be better off asking my
business partner, the chef.”

Adele froze. She should have known that was coming,
especially since she hadn’t given Alex today’s menus yet. Bollocks!

“Great,” Oliver said, “where is he?”


She,”
Alex replied. “Adele’s just over there, mate.
Hey, sweetie, can you come and let this customer know what you recommend from
today’s offerings?”

“Sure,” she muttered to herself, “I’ll just go and speak to
the man that’s embarrassed both of us today. Thanks, Alex.” Then out loud, she
replied, “Of course! I’ll just go and pop my plate away and grab the menus.”

She moved into the kitchen as fast as she could without
looking as though she were rushing. Putting her now-empty plate and cutlery
into the dishwasher, she gripped the edge of the stainless-steel worktop and
squeezed until her hands ached. “He couldn’t have bloody well broken down when
Carlos was on, could he? No, it had to be me. Oh, come on, Adele. Might as well
face the music. Just think of him as another customer.”

Grabbing the stack of menus, she pasted a smile onto her
face and breezed back out of the swinging door and across to the bar. She
pulled a menu from the top of the pile and passed the rest to Alex with a grin.

“This is Oliver, Adele. His car broke down outside, so he’s
having something to eat and drink while he’s waiting.” He placed the promised
glass of Diet Coke in front of the lifeguard.

“I know,” she said, smiling sweetly at both men. “Oliver
works at the leisure center.”

“Oh, you know each other?” Alex said, glancing from one of
them to the other, narrowing his eyes as they alighted on Adele’s face. “Well
then, I’ll leave you to it.”

He disappeared into the storeroom. Needlessly, Adele
thought. He could have stayed and backed her up, stopped the conversation from
becoming awkward. But then, of course, he didn’t know about anything that had
happened, so why would he do that? He probably just thought he was giving her a
much-needed opportunity to spend some time with a fit bloke. Normally she’d
have wanted to hug him for such a gesture, but right now she wanted to drag him
back, kicking and screaming.

She chastised herself. She shouldn’t be thinking horrible
things about her friend and business partner just because he’d done something
nice for her—or at least he thought he had. It wasn’t his fault she was having
a bit of an issue with Oliver.

“Right,” she said, realizing she should break the silence
before it got even more awkward, “what sort of thing do you like? The menu is
different every day because I make everything from scratch and like to change
things up.”

“I didn’t know you worked here.”

She tore her gaze from the menu and looked up into Oliver’s
confused gaze. “Well it didn’t really come up, did it?” She didn’t mean to
sound so bitchy but, well, it was the truth. “Yes, I work here. I’m part-owner
and head chef. My staff will be here soon for when we get busier.”

“Oh, right.” He paused. “Well I ought to order something
before you’re swamped, and before someone comes to fix my car. I like pretty
much anything. Give me a couple of recommendations and I’ll choose something.”

Chapter Four

 

Oliver froze his face into a congenial expression as Adele
walked to the kitchen, and kept it there until the door swung closed behind
her. Then he let his head drop to the bar in despair. Could his day possibly
get any worse? The sauna incident, then the three bimbos harassing him in the
corridor, his car breaking down, his phone battery being flat…he’d thought he’d
had a lucky break when the guy behind the bar—Alex—had said he could use the
phone. Then he’d realized that he’d inadvertently walked into Adele’s
workplace.

Granted, he wanted to make things up to her, but he didn’t
quite know how. And right now he was feeling so stressed that he couldn’t get
his brain to work properly. He supposed complimenting her cooking and the
establishment would help, but beyond that he didn’t know where to start.

“Things that bad?”

Oliver started. He hadn’t heard Alex come back into the bar
area. “I’m all right. Just a bit wound up, that’s all.”

“Why, what the hell did she say to you?” Alex jerked his
head in the direction of the kitchen doors, a genuinely confused expression on
his face.

“It’s a long story.”

Alex looked around. “You’re the only customer in here right
now, so I have all the time in the world. Tell me all about it. Maybe I can
help, especially if Adele’s involved. I know her pretty well.”

Oh, fuck. That was all he needed. He was sitting at the bar,
talking to Adele’s damn boyfriend! It was official, this was the worst day of
his life. Only someone who was dying could top it. “Are you two, er…?”

Alex laughed and slapped the bar. “No, no way! She’s a great
girl, a
gorgeous
girl, but she’s not my type. If you see what I mean.”

Oliver frowned. He couldn’t possibly be slagging off his
so-called friend in front of a practical stranger just because she was a big
girl? What a bastard. He realized Alex was still staring at him and he was so
confused and angry that he couldn’t think of a thing to say, couldn’t seem to
get his lips, tongue and voice box working together to form a response.

Fortunately Alex put him out of his misery. “Mate, I’m gay.
That’s why she’s not my type. God, if I was straight, she’d be at the top of my
list. If she’d have me.”

“Oh.
Oh!
” Oliver heaved a huge sigh of relief. “So is
she single, then?”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Why do you want to know?”

Oliver felt his cheeks heat up, and he grabbed his glass of
Coke and fiddled with it, staring as the bubbles fizzed up and popped at the
surface.

“Oh my God,” Alex said, clearly getting all the response he
needed, “you like her, don’t you? Okay, now you
have
to tell me all
about it. Quick, before we’re interrupted.”

Attempting to shuffle his thoughts into some kind of order,
Oliver took a sip of his drink, then placed it carefully back on the bar. Took
a deep breath. Then told Alex everything—with the exception of the sexy stuff.
He didn’t want him to think he was some kind of pervert. Adele’s best friend
knowing he liked her was one thing, but divulging the really private stuff…it
just wasn’t going to happen.

When Oliver had finished speaking, he drank some more of his
drink, watching over the rim of the glass as Alex’s curious expression grew
thoughtful for a while, then eventually turned excitable. “Okay,” he said
enthusiastically, “I have an idea.” Glancing over at the kitchen doors, he
continued, “It’s really bloody simple, actually. You have to try again. Let
Adele know that you bottled it back in the sauna and that you meant every word.
That you like her, would like to get to know her better and all that jazz. Then
ask her out on a date.”

“A date?” Oliver panicked. They were so formal, so much
pressure. If he went out with Adele on a date, he had no doubt his nerves would
get the better of him again and he’d fuck up royally.

“Yes. Well that’s what normal people do when they’d like to
spend time with someone, to find out whether they’d like to be with them
romantically. I presume you’re after a romantic relationship, not just sex?
Because if you’re just after a shag, then you can fuck right off. Adele’s not
like that and I won’t see her hurt.”

“No, no! God, no. I like her on more than just a physical
level. I don’t know her all that well but she seems fun, kind, confident. She
takes a lot of shit from people and she doesn’t give it back, doesn’t call
people out. She’s got an absolutely incredible amount of restraint. And…I
dunno. I’m just drawn to her and I’d like to find out if there could be
something between us.”

Alex grinned. “Well then. You know what you have to do.”

“I do?”

“Oh, for God’s sake. You’re useless. Are you trying to tell
me a good-looking fella like you doesn’t know how to handle women?”

Oliver wriggled in his bar seat. “I-I…no. I mean, I’m not a
virgin or anything and I have had a couple of relationships but I’ve never been
the one to start them. I’ve always ended up with women that really knew what
they wanted and went after it. So when that thing was me, I ended up with a
girlfriend. Hence the fuck-up in the sauna. I haven’t got a bloody clue what
I’m doing!”

Alex laughed. “So you’ve never asked a woman out, is that
what you’re saying? You don’t know how to make the first move? You’ll have to,
you know, if you want to be with Adele. She comes across as confident, and to
an extent she is, but when it comes to men she’s as useless as you are with
women.” He paused, his finger on his lip, as if deep in thought. “Okay, what
are your thoughts on writing her a letter? To apologize, to start with? Give
her your number, ask if she’d like to meet for coffee. A casual thing. Then
when you’re back in her good graces, ask her out on a proper date.”

“You make it sound so easy. What if she says no?”

“It
is
easy. Well the letter-writing part, anyway.
Here,” he grabbed a pen and notepad and slapped them down in front of Oliver,
“get on with it. And as for her saying no, well if you don’t ask, you’ll never
know, will you? I have a feeling she’ll say yes, though. It sounds like you get
on quite well, and the way she acted when I called you over told me something
was amiss. I reckon she just didn’t know what to say. She doesn’t get asked out
much, as so many people just can’t see beyond her weight and they have
absolutely no idea what they’re missing out on.”

Oliver nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, that all makes sense. So
what you’re saying is we’re both rubbish at chatting up the opposite sex and
that if I don’t make the first move, she won’t either?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, fuck that. I’m not missing out on my opportunity with
a great gal. The blokes ‘round here must have a screw loose if they’re passing
her by because of her figure. So she’s not a size ten, so fucking what? I think
she looks great as she is. Fantastic, actually. And you know why? Because she’s
happy. Happy and healthy and bubbly. What could be more attractive than that?”

“I like you already. Now get scribbling. In fact, if you
hurry up and write something before your food comes out, that and your drink
are on the house. Just don’t tell Adele, okay? I’ll leave you alone for a
minute.”

Alex grabbed a second notebook and pen and started checking
the bottles hanging from the optics, the crisps, peanuts and other snacks
attached to cardboard holders. Presumably he was working out what he needed to
order in. Pulling his gaze away, Oliver forced it onto the blank page in front
of him. Pretending to be fascinated by what Alex was up to wasn’t going to help
him to ask Adele out now, was it?

As it happened, Alex encouraging him, both in general and to
hurry up, helped immensely. Because he didn’t have lots of time to think about
what to write, he just jotted down the first things that came into his mind.
When he read the thing back, he decided it had been for the best, because the
words were truthful and to the point.

 

Adele, I’m sorry. I’m totally crap with women and I
chickened out when I was telling you how I felt. I meant what I said, though—I
do really like you and if you’re interested I’d like to see if there’s anything
between us. If not, no worries, but I’m currently going on the premise of
‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’.

Maybe we could start with a coffee sometime? My treat.

Oliver x

 

He stuck with just signing his name and a single kiss, in an
attempt to strike a balance between soppy fool and disinterested party. He
hoped like hell he’d gotten it right. He added his phone number at the bottom,
then tore the page from the book and waved it at Alex.

“Take it, quick, before I chicken out again. But promise me,
promise me,
that you won’t give it to her until I’ve gone. At least then
if she turns me down she won’t be doing it to my face.”

“Okay,” Alex snatched the note from Oliver and tucked it
into his shirt pocket. “You have my word. God knows, I want to see Adele happy,
and I hope you’re the man for the job. But if she thinks you’re not, then I
agree it’s best you’re not here when she reads what you’ve written. I may not
be a particularly masculine man but I don’t want you blubbing all over my bar.
Or my shoulder, for that matter.”

Oliver sighed. “Alex, I just meant I didn’t want to be
embarrassed. I don’t do crying. I
am
somewhat masculine, I believe. I
think the last time I cried was when I was about nine and my pet rabbit died.”

“Fair enough. Now talk about something else.”

“W-what, why?”

“Because there are some customers coming and I reckon your
food will be here any minute now.”

“Okay. And hey, thanks, mate. Even if it doesn’t work out at
least you gave me a nudge in the right direction to give it a try. I appreciate
it.”

“No worries.”

* * * * *

An hour and a half later, Oliver pulled onto his drive,
still burning with embarrassment. Sure enough, the mechanic had turned up in
his tow truck and Oliver had gone out into the car park to let him know what
had happened. Less than a minute later the guy had diagnosed the problem. He’d
only gone and run out petrol! Shamed beyond belief, Oliver had asked the bloke
to tow him to the nearest filling station. That way, it had looked quite
serious to Adele and Alex, and he’d still been able to get some fuel. He’d
given them a cheerful wave as he hopped into the cab of the tow truck.

He couldn’t believe he’d been such an idiot. Never in all
the years he’d been driving had he run out of fuel. He’d definitely be keeping
that secret to himself.

Still, he thought as he unlocked his front door, it hadn’t
been a total disaster. He’d gotten a free drink and a bloody delicious meal out
of it and he was hopefully taking steps in the right direction to get his love
life on track.

If Adele said yes, it would definitely have been worth the
embarrassment and inconvenience.

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