She took a seat by the window, put down the flowers, and allowed her gaze to drift out on to the street. She smiled as she thought back to the night before. The dinner, the sex, the promise that Daniel would skip his parents’ New Year’s Day lunch to spend the day with her.
‘Latte,’ said a voice as a lightly foaming mug was put in front of her and she returned to the present.
‘Thanks.’ She smiled back at Will, who pulled off his scarf and took a seat opposite her.
‘So I take it you’re a regular here,’ said Amy.
‘I spend more time and money here than I probably should, yes,’ said Will, blowing on his coffee. ‘In fact I could probably hang-glide in here.’
‘Hang-glide?’
‘See that shop across the road?’ he said, pointing through the window. ‘Above it – that’s my flat.’
‘The one with the socks hanging off the balcony?’
He nodded.
‘It’s not exactly drying weather, is it?’
‘I think they’ve been there since the summer.’
‘And I think you’ve just put me off my latte.’ She laughed, and the tension between them softened.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your text.’
‘I was probably being a little overprotective,’ he said, looking up at her from over his coffee cup.
‘I think Georgia is definitely capable of looking after herself.’ She smiled back. ‘But I’d have been suspicious too – the mystery American taking a member of your family on a Manhattan magical mystery tour.’
‘I wasn’t suspicious,’ said Will, looking at her directly.
‘Yes, you were,’ laughed Amy. ‘I could tell you were wondering if it was part of an elaborate plan to liberate Georgia from some of her money.’
‘Occupational hazard,’ he said, not denying it. ‘Overactive imagination.’
She took a sip of her own drink.
‘So what do you do? For a living, I mean.’
‘Is this the pressing thing you wanted to discuss?’
‘No, I’ve just realised I don’t know what kind of man would have his underwear out on display.’
‘Take a guess,’ he challenged her.
‘Lawyer? No, not neat enough.’
‘Cheers.’
‘That also puts accountant and banker out. Doctor, maybe? Not with all that hair. PR. Possible, but I always thought they had a sort of insincere charm.’
‘So I’m charmless. That’s what you’re saying.’
‘No, I didn’t say that . . .’
‘I’ll put you out of your misery. I’m a writer.’
‘As in books?’