The Lunchtime Special

Chapter 23 - Entitled

"God, I love you." The playful scowl on Jake's face changes to a look tender enough to make my heart fly but those three little words send it soaring into the stratosphere, only to plummet back to earth when he continues. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

I can barely find enough oxygen, let alone words, but my expression must be enough to tell him the effect of what he's just said.

"Hell! I'm ballsing this up! Mia – I don't mean I didn't mean to say it at all, just that I didn't mean to say it here, now, in a busy bloody airport terminal, of all places." His hand runs through his hair, making a total mess of it, and he darts a quick look around us then back to me, his eyes imploring. "I mean the words, but I wanted to say them in a more...hell, I don't know...romantic setting? Now I'm messing up the whole thing and you're probably thinking I'm a prize arse and what am I saying anyway; we've only known each other a couple of months, but I..." He stops rambling and draws a deep breath and I place a hand on his chest, marvelling that the pounding of his heart matches mine. All I can focus on is him, the words he's saying and the ones I'm hoping he's about to say again. "Mia, I love you. I...this is probably freaking you out, but..."

"Mia, come on, we're boarding," Will appears beside us and I groan.

"I'll be there in a minute."

"They've already called it twice."

Bloody hell! "Get on the plane, I'll be there in a minute."

"But..."

"Will...please." Grumbling and giving us both a scowl, he turns and heads back around the partition; I turn back to Jake.

"You have to go," he murmurs, looking dejected. In contrast, my heart is soaring once again and a bubblefest of happiness is happening under my skin.

"Yes..." Taking his hand, I walk towards my departure gate, my handbag my only carry-on. There's only a half dozen people in the queue so I get out my phone to show my boarding pass, not letting go of Jake, taking small, slow steps towards the point at which we have to part. "You have impeccable timing, Jacob Harrington," I'm teasing but not sure if he realises it yet; probably my lack of response to his declaration has made him think...well, I don't know what he's thinking, but I know what I want him to be absolutely sure of. "First I catch you kissing someone else when you're meant to be meeting me, now you tell me...that...in a crowded airport seconds before I have to leave..." He mumbles something I don't catch, face dipping and beginning to flush a fiery red, and tries to remove his hand from mine but I'm not letting go. "It's just as well I love you right back, or a girl could get a complex or something..."

His head snaps up, eyes widening and blazing into mine, breath a soft gasp. I tell him again so he knows I mean it. "I love you. I don't think you're a prize arse, I'm not freaked out, and yes, there could have been a more romantic setting but I don't care." My heart is still galloping and I'm now at the front of the queue; luckily two people have come up behind us, so I pull Jake to the side to let them through and before I can say any more he wraps me in his arms and kisses me and everything else is forgotten bar the taste of his mouth and feel of his warm body pressed so close to mine.

"Excuse me sir, madam...will you be travelling with us today?" one of the staff interrupts. Reluctantly removing my lips from Jake's, I swipe my phone to bring up my boarding pass and step over to have it read. "Thank you Ms Stephenson. And you, sir?"

Jake shakes his head. "No, I'm on a different flight."

I move closer to press my lips to his again. "I love you. See you Thursday night. Call me."

"I will. Every damn day. I love you. I'll work on my impeccable timing skills." His smile lights up the entire building and I feel my own smile widening in a reflection of his. It stays on my face the entire walk along the air bridge, down the aisle of the aircraft and as I take my seat next to Will, who takes one look at me and smirks to himself but wisely says nothing.

---

I'm shown to the two-bedroom suite at the Lyall I'll be sharing with Ames that boasts a full kitchen, gourmet mini bar, separate living area and balcony. The opulent bedding and upholstery fabrics feature contemporary oriental designs and I'm rather blown away by the two shower heads and underfloor heating in the bathroom as I wash away the travel grime. Will invited me to join he and Laila for dinner but I opt instead for a quiet night with room service and a good book.

The next day sees the arrival of Will's parents and sister; we meet them at the airport and take them back to the hotel to freshen up before joining Laila and Mrs Harrington in the Bistro for lunch. Her demeanour towards me is no less condescending than it had been the first time we met. For Will and Laila's sakes I let it pass, missing Jake's presence, but I feel uncomfortable in the knowledge of her apparent dislike.

"As for this unusual title of 'Best Friend'," she's saying now to Ian and Trish, Will's parents. "It's sweet of you to indulge the young ones, but really, whoever heard of a female Best Man and such an...abnormal moniker. So untraditional, almost...bohemian."

"It's a PC world now, Anthea," Will butts in before his folks can reply. "Best Man is inappropriate and Best Person sounded ridiculous, so Best Friend was chosen. Besides, it's accurate – Mia is my best friend and has been for a long time."

Mrs Harrington demurs but there's something in her eyes that tells me this isn't the last we'll hear of the topic. She sends me a derisive glance and I reach for my glass of wine, wishing – not for the first time – that I could tell her exactly what I think of her attitude.

The rest of the meal passes uneventfully; I talk mainly with Ames – who is also being given the supercilious shoulder by the bride's mother - and her parents, who are basically honorary family to me. Once it's over we head in different directions; Ames and her parents head upstairs, Laila and her mother to speak to the concierge and Will and I are about to go shopping for bridesmaids' gifts. Reaching the door, I recall I want to ask Laila about the spa appointment tomorrow.

"Will, give me a minute – there's something I forgot to ask Laila."

"Okay."

I turn towards the concierge's desk, stopping dead in my tracks when I hear Mrs Harrington's voice once again bemoaning my role in the wedding. I can't believe she's still going on about this; what the hell is her problem? Momentarily hidden behind a huge, lush umbrella tree potted in terracotta, I eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Mother, Mia has been Will's best friend since first year high school," Laila defends.

"Surely he has other best friends," is the quietly emphatic retort. "Those Irish boys..."

"Stop it. I'm serious – Mia is a wonderful person and as close to Will as his sister. When you make remarks at her expense you are hurting not only her feelings but Will's and mine as well. And how do you think Jake will feel about it?"

"What has it to do with Jacob?" Mrs Harrington's voice sounds confused and disdainful at the same time.

"Because they're dating, of course, and he won't be too happy about..." There's a moment's silence. "You didn't know...oh shit."

"Laila, such vulgar language is unbecoming and I'm disappointed in you. And at your brother, for taking up with that...shopkeeper...if what you say is true. Though I suppose, like most men, he's merely sowing his wild oats...it's no different than philandering with the maid, after all, which is what your father did..."

"Mother!"

At this point I decide I've heard quite enough and I turn tail, retracing my steps to meet Will and get out of here before I'm completely overwhelmed by the urge to wrap my fingers around the scraggly, snobbish neck of my boyfriend's mother.