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THE fixed cameras in her house were replaced by a camera guy and a sound man during the day. And by lunchtime Caitlin knew more about them both than she knew about her ‘fiancé’.
They just had an openness that she was more accustomed to. In conversation they shared information that might have been simple in its general topic but gave hints to their personalities and lives. Whereas Aiden just had a way of avoiding anything remotely like sharing. He could be an international spy for all she knew.
Except for that brief time that they’d shared talking from separate rooms across the hallway.
She struggled her way through the lunchtime rush at Maguires, the employer of her choice in Dublin city centre. The dream of having a restaurant of her own was so far off that it made sense to work somewhere she at least liked to fill the time. But with Aiden Flynn, international man of mystery, sitting at home in her house it was hard to concentrate on dish presentation.
Faking a headache, she left the restaurant and piled into her car with Mick and Joe to make the drive home.
‘So you’re taking Aiden home to meet your parents tomorrow, then?’ Mick pointed the camera at her from the passenger seat.
‘Mmm.’ She grimaced slightly at the thought. ‘That’s the plan.’
‘You worried about it?’
‘Oh, no. We tell massive porkies to each other all the time. It’s a sort of family hobby of ours.’
Mick laughed. ‘Mine too.’
She risked a massive insurance claim by glancing into the lens for a second, ‘I was kidding, Mick.’
‘Oh, me too.’
She laughed. ‘Seriously. My family is close. Really close.’ Her expression changed. ‘After Liam died they were there to hold me together. On the days when I couldn’t get up they brought me food in bed. When I couldn’t stay still my father even took up jogging to keep me company.’
Glancing back at the camera, she smiled sadly. ‘Where one of us ends the other begins. It’s just the way we are.’
‘That’s a rare thing, all right.’
‘Yes, it is.’
She wove her way through the traffic, her mind focussing on the task of not hitting another vehicle. But as they got out of the city and headed towards the suburbs her mind went back to a darker time than the sunny autumn day they were currently in.
‘Do you still miss him, Caitlin?’
The softly voiced question caught her off guard. It had been a long time since anyone had asked. She thought about it a while, played snapshots of memories across her mind, and smiled wistfully as she answered. ‘I miss the sound of his voice sometimes.’
The sound of the camera filled the silence.
‘You tend to think that someone the same age as you will just always be around. Especially when it’s someone you love.’ She continued smiling, eyes on the road ahead but her mind reliving he past. ‘Liam was always the one who lived for the moment. He used to say life was too short to just stand still.’
She glanced at the camera again. ‘Maybe he knew.’
She made the turn into her street and parked in front of her house. Switching off the engine, she glanced up at the windows. Was he looking out at her, Aiden Flynn man of mystery?
‘Aiden’s different from Liam?’
The question raised a small laugh. ‘Like night and day.’
‘Aiden?’
‘In the kitchen—and aren’t you supposed to yell “Hi, honey, I’m home”?’
She smiled as she walked through the living room to the open kitchen/dining room. ‘I’ll remember next time.’ Her eyes roved over the mess on her normally immaculate kitchen surfaces. ‘What are you doing?’
He quirked an eyebrow at the question. ‘I was hungry.’
‘So you thought it would be an idea to massacre my kitchen?’
‘It would have been perfect when you got home.’ He pointed an accusatory finger at her. ‘You’re early.’
She watched as he nodded at her crew.
‘I told them I had a headache.’
Concern crossed his eyes. ‘You’re sick?’
Caitlin’s eyes focussed on the spoon suspended in mid-air as he stared at her. In slow motion drips of red something dripped onto her cooker. ‘No.’
‘Getting quite good at this lying thing, aren’t we?’
‘I don’t think that actually counts as a lie.’ She continued watching the dripping. A small pool formed on the surface. Whatever it was, it had better wash off.
‘I guess it’s all about degrees of lying.’ He watched her face as he thought out loud. ‘What constitutes a big lie and what’s a fib.’
‘A fib, in theory, doesn’t hurt people. It may even save their feelings, depending on the situation.’ Her eyes searched for the nearest cloth. ‘What is that stuff you’re dripping all over the place?’
Aiden waved the spoon as he looked at it. ‘I’m making cheese on beans on toast.’
Her eyes moved up to lock with his. ‘You’re making what?’
‘Cheese on beans on toast.’ He grinned, white teeth peeking out from the shroud of his beard. ‘C’mon—you haven’t heard of it? And you call yourself a chef?’
‘I cook food that tastes good.’
‘This tastes good—’ He waved the spoon again and small splatters of red appeared on his white T-shirt. ‘Believe me.’
Frowning at the modern art piece her cooker was rapidly becoming, she retorted with, ‘I’m quite sure the air in my mouth tastes better than that.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t know that, would I? What with you refusing to kiss me and all…’
Caitlin refused to rise to the bait. ‘That had better get washed off before it becomes glue.’
Aiden glanced at the camera between them and winked, then studied the telltale flush that touched Caitlin’s cheeks. ‘You know you’re going to have to do it at some stage.’
‘You made the mess; you clean it.’
‘I wasn’t referring to the mess.’
‘I was.’ Her chin rose as she stared him straight in the eye.
Aiden stared right back. ‘It has to happen for all this to be convincing.’
An eyebrow quirked. ‘Next you’ll be suggesting we sleep together for the sake of realism. I didn’t sign up for that kind of a show.’
The male hormones in his body transmitted a very vivid mental image from her words, and Aiden frowned. Six months alone had made him a raging sex maniac all of a sudden?
‘Honey, you’d better watch that head of yours doesn’t get too large for the doorways in this place.’
‘I am not kissing you while that beard is there, so you can forget it!’
‘You’re prejudiced against beards for some reason?’
‘As a matter of fact, I am.’
‘Because…?’
He waited patiently for an explanation, filling the time by stirring the bubbling beans in the saucepan in front of him.
When there was no explanation volunteered he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. ‘Well?’
Caitlin was annoyed by how easily he made her angry. She was usually cool, calm and collected. Occupational necessities when restaurants were full and head chefs were yelling in hot kitchens. But Aiden could raise a spark in her from a glance, a single statement—from several spots of tomatoey sauce on her cooker-top.
‘Well, what?’
He removed the pan from the hob and said nothing.
Caitlin sighed in frustration. ‘They scratch.’
He hid a smile as he removed toast from the grill and laid it on two plates.
‘And they do actually cause rashes on sensitive skin.’
Another mental picture formed. ‘You never did get round to showing me that.’
Her mouth quirked at the edges. ‘And neither will I.’
‘Spoilsport.’
The quirk became a smile as she moved closer to watch his attempt at arranging cheese on beans on toast to make it look appetising. When she was right by his shoulder she lowered her voice and asked, ‘Aiden Flynn, are you flirting with me?’
Aiden continued concentrating on his masterpiece. ‘Is it working?’
She leaned in close to his ear to whisper, ‘No.’
He smiled as he sprinkled the last of the grated cheese. ‘Well, then obviously I’m not.’ Lifting a plate, he turned to wave it beneath her nose while looking into her eyes. ‘Because if I was flirting with you it would be working.’
Caitlin’s dark eyes studied his too blue eyes just inches from hers. She searched for answers, for the reasons behind his Jekyll and Hyde personality. But all she could see looking back at her was a warm sparkle of challenge. As if it was some kind of game to him. Maybe it was. Maybe his way of coping with the next few months was to make it ‘fun’. He obviously hadn’t as much to lose as she did if it didn’t work.
‘I need this thing to work, Aiden.’
He blinked long dark lashes at her with a question in his eyes. ‘The show?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why is it so important?’
She avoided his questioning eyes with a downward glance at the plate. ‘It just is.’
Aiden had read her questionnaire for the show and memorised over and over the study guide from the night before. ‘You want your own restaurant that badly?’
‘As badly as you want to fund whatever it is you need a year off work for.’
He continued to hold a steady gaze as she looked back into his eyes. It was what he’d filled in on his own questionnaire. And it was half true, in a way. He needed what the show would bring him to take time to fulfil a promise. To complete a legacy. On the form all he’d said was ‘to fund a career break’. But the words didn’t even cover half of the story.
The look in her eyes said she wanted to know more.
Aiden wasn’t ready for even half an answer. ‘It’s important to me too.’
She seemed to think about pushing him for an explanation, but with a shrug of her shoulders she let it go. ‘Then we’re together on this?’
‘I guess we are.’
A small nod, and then she reached out to take the plate from him. ‘Then maybe you should stop making this into a game of some kind.’
‘That’s my doing, is it?’
‘Isn’t it? All this word-play you have us doing?’
‘A game is exactly what this thing is. Why shouldn’t it be fun along the way?’
Because there was too much to lose.
Avoiding his ridiculously blue eyes, she turned and took her plate to the table overlooking the small outdoor courtyard. ‘For us both to win we need to work together. To concentrate on what we’re doing. With no distractions. And we can’t do that if you keep playing with words and taunting me.’
‘Oh, I see.’ He picked up his own plate and moved across to join her. ‘We should run it like some kind of military campaign, should we? Every word and gesture rehearsed ahead of time?’
‘Yes.’ She frowned at him as he sat down and handed her a knife and fork. ‘We have to plan for every eventuality.’
He thought about her words for a few moments, then asked in a calm voice, ‘Is that how you run your life? Everything planned out in advance?’
‘It makes sense.’ She continued frowning at him. His lack of approval was evident. ‘You set yourself goals, targets to aim for, and you work ’til you get there. I suppose that’s very alien to you and your bohemian approach to a career?’
‘You can’t plan for everything. No matter how you try to. That’s life.’ He spooned a forkful of food into his mouth, chewed a couple of times, and continued talking with his mouth full. ‘You should know that from what happened to your fiancé.’
His words were like a blow to her chest and she felt her eyes stinging angrily. ‘How dare you?’
Pushing her chair back from the table, she glared down at him from above. ‘How dare you throw that at me like it was some little glitch in my great plan for life? Some little wobble that I should have planned for!’
