Winter Wayhaught

Chapter 3

A piece of paper. How could one small, torn piece of paper hold so much value? Nicole stared at it, committing the number to memory, before realising she needed to add it to her contacts list on her phone. She couldn't wait to tell Robin what had transpired on Christmas Eve.

Robin was one of her employees. A total of four worked in the store, if you included the lady who ran the café in the basement. Not something Nicole got involved in, food, catering in general not her speciality. Robin was her favourite. He had worked for her aunt, easy going, super intelligent like his partner, Jeremy, allowing Nicole to indulge in random conversations about the most obscure subjects. Both vied to be the geekiest, Jeremy rolling his eyes as the conversation descended into a Google play off.

They were having Christmas lunch at one o'clock. Drinks from noon onwards. A collection of misfits gathered together to celebrate the consumption of turkey, brussel sprouts optional. Presents to be exchanged after the meal. Nicole needed to catch up on everything she hadn't done while Waverly was in the store. Till cashed up, books replaced in orderly fashion, floors swept, she was done.

She wondered what Waverly was doing right now. Probably helping prepare Christmas lunch with her sister. It felt good having Waverly's number stored. She wanted to call. Not too soon, she counselled herself, she didn't want to appear too keen. God, she wanted to call her, hear her voice. That giggle. The towel she used still lying on her bed. Way to creepy she would be sleeping with it later. Not something she would reveal to Robin.

It was a short drive to Robin's flat. The snow was thawing on pavements, the roads already clear. There were no other cars as she made her way across town, everyone enjoying a day of over-eating and TV watching. Two bottles of wine accompanied her on the passenger seat. An overnight bag and presents in the boot. A few guests had arrived by the time Nicole pulled up outside. Robin greeted her at the door, the perfunctory kissing on both cheeks. Very French. Neither knowing why they did this every time they met. A habit no one could bring themselves to stop. Wine deposited in kitchen, compliments given on the smell of Jeremy's nut roast for those not partaking meat, she made her way into the lounge.

Robin introduced her. "This is Nicole. My boss. Trixie, Claire, Alastair and Joe."

A round of nods and hellos ensued. She was dying to tell Robin about her evening, waiting for the right opportunity. It came as he made his way back to the kitchen for champagne refills.

"I've met someone. I've actually met someone."

"Oh my God. Spill. Who?"

"The girl in the store. The one who sits in the big chair by the window, writing. The gorgeous, petite, green-eyed, long brown hair one."

"Not the girl who comes in every Saturday?"

"The very same. We slept together."

"Fuck me. You're quick. Hold on. When did you meet her?"

"Yesterday evening. She couldn't get a bus. Came back to the store."

"Oh, Nicole. Good girl. I mean, I never had you pegged as a one night stand sort of person, but way to go."

"Thanks. What? Sorry, no we didn't sleep together. We slept together, as in the same bed."

"That's usually how it happens. Bless."

"No, I mean she slept in the bed and I was next to her."

"I know. You keep saying."

"We had our clothes on.

"Kinky."

"Seriously. Nothing happened apart from we slept together."

"So, let me get this straight. You meet someone yesterday, invite her up to your flat, she stays the night, in the same bed as you, with her clothes on."