Page 67 of Merry & Bright
“It’ll just be another ten minutes,” he said once the pan was bubbling on the hob.
Cam’s stomach rumbled, as if on cue, and he laughed, just an instant before Rob did, their gazes meeting in acknowledgement of their shared amusement. Cam had a great laugh, Rob thought, a warm, infectious chuckle that exposed his even, white teeth and made that endearing dimple flash again.
When a hint of curiosity crept into Cam’s expression, Rob realised his own laughter had faded and that he was staring. Embarrassed, he looked away, lifting his wine glass to take a drink then sitting himself down on the other bar stool.
“So,” he said, once he was sitting. “It doesn’t sound like you’ve been having much luck lately, what with your car breaking down and your boiler packing in.”
He wished he could take the words back as soon as they were out. Cam just seemed to deflate, his smile dying away. “No,” he said, dropping his gaze to the island worktop. “It’s been a bit grim actually.”
He looked so careworn suddenly that Rob couldn’t help but wonder if he was talking about more than just his boiler and car. This was how he’d looked in the café the other day, like he was weighed down by some invisible load. And suddenly Rob had an overwhelming urge to do something to make him feel better.
“You know—” he began. He hesitated for a moment, then made himself go on. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while about that—misunderstanding we had, earlier in the year.”
Cam glanced up, brows drawn together in a wary frown. “Misunderstanding?”
Rob cleared his throat. “The, ah, thing over you selling refreshments at the boatshed.”
“Oh.” Cam’s expression shuttered as he waited to hear what Rob had to say.
“Well, I’ve felt bad about what happened between us for a while now. Particularly about us calling the Council, instead of talking to you first.”
Cam’s dark gaze was difficult to read but at last he said, “I’ll admit that at the time I was annoyed, but now—well, I suppose I can understand why you called them.”
“I didn’t call them, actually. Val did. I didn’t even know till afterwards.”
Cam looked startled. “It was Val?”
“Yeah, though she did it with the best of intentions. She was being protective of me. She’s very loyal is Val, but a bit impulsive. When she saw what you were doing, she didn’t think it through, just got straight on the phone to Pete at the Council. He’s a bit of an on-off boyfriend of hers. Then Pete went a bit off the deep end—probably trying to impress Val—and the whole thing got blown out of proportion. I told her after that she should have just left it to me to speak to you, but by then you and I had already had that argument.” He paused, adding honestly, “I should have spoken to you about it after but I didn’t. I’m not usually so petty and the truth is, I’ve felt shitty about it ever since. So—I’m sorry.”
Cam searched Rob’s face for a moment. “That was a pretty generous apology,” he said at last. “Especially considering I was the one doing something I wasn’t supposed to.” He paused before adding, “For what it’s worth, I felt bad about our argument too. I realised later I’d been out of order, storming into the café and throwing accusations at you, but I was too embarrassed to apologise.”
Rob gave a short laugh. “Really? I assumed you were furious at me, especially when you stopped coming down to The Stag on Fridays.”
“God, no,” Cam mumbled. “I stopped coming in The Stag ’cause I knew everyone had heard about what’d happened between us. I reckoned they’d all think I was a dick and I didn’t fancy having that pointed out to me after a few drinks. Plus—” he broke off.
“Plus what?”
Cam shrugged, adopting an uncaring expression that made Rob somehow suspect he cared a great deal about what he was about to say. “Plus I was skint. Didn’t have the cash to go out drinking anyway.”
Cam fiddled with the stem of his wine glass, his attention carefully averted from Rob, his shoulders hunched and defeated.
“I was skint...”
Wasthatwhy Cam had started selling coffee at the boatshed? Suddenly that whole episode made a little more sense.
“New business blues?” Rob asked lightly.
Cam laughed without humour, and without looking up. “You could say that.”
Rob waited a moment before he said gently, “I know how it feels, Cam. It’s only really in the last two years that the café has started making a decent turnover and that’s thanks to Val, if I’m honest. The first year it made a loss, the next just a whisker of a profit. It’s not easy starting up a new venture.”
At last, Cam glanced Rob’s way, sending him a wan smile. “I thought I’d been so prudent,” he said, raking one hand through his still-damp hair. “I’m a qualified accountant, for God’s sake. I know better than anyone how many new businesses fail in the first year, and how important it is to plan for the worst. But this has turned out to be much more seasonal than I thought it would be. The winter months have been completely dead—I’ve got no bookings at all till after Easter.”
“You do have bookings though?”
“Yes—more than I can handle for the summer actually, but other than some deposits, no cash till April.” He sighed. “Hell, don’t listen to me. I don’t know why I’m even telling you this.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, hard.
Rob reached out, putting his hand on Cam’s warm, solid shoulder and squeezing lightly, an innocent gesture of comfort. At his touch, Cam glanced at him, the hint of a question in his gaze and in that instant it seemed to Rob that there was the faintest prickle of something, some kind of awareness, between them. Then the hob timer beeped, breaking the odd spell.