Fierce

Chapter 25

This chapter is dedicated to all my silent readers. It's a different kind of special for me to imagine who you might be, reading my words on the other side of the world. Thank you for sticking with me so far and I hope you keep enjoying it. 

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Her knee was bouncing up and down incessantly and she couldn't stop fiddling with the stupid tassels on her stupid scarf. As hard as she tried, she couldn't slow her breathing either – her pounding heart made her want to throw up and run away. Damn that waitress who'd lured her with a cappuccino – coffee was the last thing she needed right now.

Georgie had sent Lincoln a text that morning, and was now waiting for him in a tiny café at the end of the street where he worked. She would have preferred meeting somewhere more private... but the exchange was too short for a negotiation. But if he didn't show up soon, she'd chicken out. She'd already battled herself to stay at least three times already. 

Her head jerked up at the small bell sound that signalled an open door, and she felt a gust of cold air on her legs. 

Too late to back out now. 

He was standing right there, surveying the café: looking for her.  Like an idiot, she didn't even make a move to signal him over. She just sat there – paralysed. It didn't matter though, he caught sight of her, and his tiny frown wasn't reassuring in the slightest.

He sat down in front of her and all her words dried up. She just looked at him – and noticed as if from a distance that he looked different. There was no lightness: just a black suit and a foreboding look. 

He didn't want to be here. 

"You're going to have to start this Georgiana," he said roughly. "You're the one that called me here."

"I, I know," she stuttered. "Just give me a second." She searched his face to find any sign to reassure her that this was going to be okay; that he would be gentle with her, that he would hear what she said and try to understand. But really, if he didn't, she knew she couldn't blame him. Not even a little. She wasn't arrogant enough to assume he would make this easy for her.

He checked his watch. "Georgiana?"

Just the way he said her name made her want to cry – he didn't want anything to do with her and she hadn't even told him what she'd done yet. 

She looked at her white knuckles and started talking.

. * . * . * . 

Charlotte hung up the phone with a sigh.

"What is it sugar?" Jay asked her from the couch. They were together at her flat, waiting to hear how things went.

"That was Georgie – they're finished."

"... as in, finished forever or finished coffee?"

"Coffee. Forever. Who knows. I'm going to pick her up now – she's in the bathroom again."

"Oh shit. That tosspot."

"Yeah, but we both know he isn't, which makes the whole thing worse doesn't it?"

"Want me to come?"

"No, I'm good. Just have some tea ready when I bring her back."

"Roger," and he was already up and out of his seat to start. She watched him move around the kitchen – he really was adorable... not something she thought she would ever think about him.