Six weeks later, Nell stood behind the bakery counter and watched Sam lift a rack of bread into place.
“Not that way,” she said.
He froze. “You told me this way.”
“I told you to turn it.”
“So I turned it.”
“Back.”
He looked at her, then at the rack. “This is why you can't train me with hand movements.”
She came around the counter and helped him move it. He lifted when she lifted, instead of deciding she couldn't carry her end.
Tomorrow Nell was going to Calder for five days. Sam had agreed with the bakery to cover part of her early shift, alongside the usual staff, so she could leave in time for the bus. He was here tonight to find out where things went. Nell hadn't asked him; when she'd mentioned the trip, he'd asked if helping with the cover would make it easier. She'd said yes, and he'd sorted it with work rather than changing her plans for her.
She still found herself waiting for a second proposal behind the first one.
He'd brought none.
For six weeks, they'd seen each other a few times. A short walk. A cup of coffee that ended before either was ready. Some days Nell hadn't wanted to answer his messages, and he hadn't called until she did. Some days she'd reached for his name herself.
She wanted him. She didn't always know what to do with that.
Sam's phone rang while he was wiping the counter. He looked at it and stepped toward the back door.
Nell checked the till. She could hear enough to know it was his kitchen manager, not what had been offered.
“I can't tomorrow morning,” Sam said. “I know. I'm covering somewhere else.”
There was a pause.
“No. I already said I'd do it.”
He came back and put the phone away.
“You can take a call,” Nell said.
“I did.”
“A shift?”
“Somebody's off. They offered more because it's short notice.”
She looked at the rack they'd moved together.
“You want me to ask somebody else?” Nell asked.
“No. I'm here.”
He picked up the cloth and finished the counter. Nell watched him for a moment, then went to switch off the lights in the back.
They locked up together. Outside, the evening was warm. Her green coat stayed in her bag.
“Calder still feels like a good idea?” he asked.
“Some hours.”
“And the other hours?”
“I want to cancel and stay in bed.”
He nodded. They started walking.
Nell had kept the flat. She was paying both shares now, and had given herself three months to decide what she wanted to do next. She was still working.
She'd stopped reading the old messages at night. Not every night. Enough nights that she could feel the difference.
“I found a place with a bath,” she said.
Sam smiled. “Indoors?”
“Probably. The picture was promising.”
“Luxury.”
At his turning they stopped. Nell usually let him go there. This time she caught the sleeve of his jacket.
He looked back.
“Would you like to go out when I get home?” she asked.
His face changed before he answered. The little flash of happiness made her want to kiss him.
“Yes.”
“A date. Not a business meeting. No plan for the rest of my life.”
“I can do a date.”
“You used to.”
“I remember being quite good.”
Nell laughed. He came a little closer and waited. She put her hand against his cheek, felt the roughness there, and kissed him.
It was a good kiss.
When she stepped back, he didn't hold her in place.
“Thursday?” he asked.
“Thursday. Six. That place with the booths.”
“I'll book.”
“Two seats.”
He grinned. “No investors.”
They walked in different directions. Nell got halfway down the block before she remembered she'd left her scarf in the bakery.
She didn't go back. It was warm enough.