Bridge Over the Atlantic (2 page)

“Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Mallory Westerman.” She shook his hand. “And we locals pronounce it York
sher
, as opposed to York
shyre
.” She felt smug at getting him back for his sarcasm.

“Well thank you very much for the insider info.” He laughed “So Miss Mallory York
sherrr,
” he joked rolling his ‘R’ “Mallory is quite an unusual name, huh?” His tone was questioning.

“Hmmm, that’s what you get for having quirky parents I suppose.” She rolled her eyes once she realised this comment needed further explanation. “My Dad was an avid rock climber in his youth and his hero was the climber George Leigh Mallory.” Sam look nonplussed and she continued, “He was apparently a famous climber who was killed attempting to climb Everest in the 1920’s.” Sam’s expression indicated that he still had no clue what on earth she was rambling on about. It didn’t much matter really, she surmised. His nose crinkled, probably through bored confusion she figured.

“So, where were you off to before throwing yourself into the arms of a complete Canadian stranger?” Sam teased.

“Ah, Canadian, eh? I just thought you were from America.”

Samuel winced and shook his head in mock disgust. “Youch! Hold your tongue there, Miss Yorksher, a proud Canadian could get highly insulted, you know, next you will be saying we all sound alike.”

“Sorry.” She held her hands up in apology.
Well, actually you do, to me.
Her subconscious blew a raspberry in his general direction. “I was on my way for coffee, just up there.” She pointed up the paved precinct, toward her favourite coffee shop. “I’m taking a break whilst things are quiet in my shop.”

“Oddly enough, I was going to go for coffee too.” He paused, looking thoughtful, almost hesitant as if he wondered whether he should say what he was thinking, but really hoping she made the suggestion first. “Soooo, how about you buy me one, by way of a thank you for saving your ass?” He winked and immediately cringed regretting the cheesy facial expression.

Her jaw dropped in mock surprise at his forward manner although secretly, she quite liked it.

Smiling and rolling her eyes she held out her arm as if to gesture ‘after you’. He took this to be an answer in the affirmative and began walking in the direction of her extended hand.

Sam and Mallory sat in the coffee shop for a lot longer than her door sign had denoted. They found lots to talk about in their hour and a half long conversation. Mallory discovered that Sam was thirty-one and was over in England following his brother’s request for him to take the reins at the UK arm of his asset management business.

“I’m renting an apartment in what I believe is some kind of converted warehouse.” he told her with a bemused, questioning look, “Seems to be the
in thing
in
Leeds
.”

“Yes, there are a lot of run down old industrial buildings around here. I think someone saw a bit of a niche in the property market.”

“Yeah, I think so…the rooms are very spacious.” He smiled cheekily, “and I have a
great
view from my bedroom.” Mallory blushed and fiddled with her coffee cup. Sam cringed again.
Idiot
, he chastised himself.

Mallory cleared her throat, “So, where in
Canada
are you from?”

“A town called Kingston, in Ontario. I grew up on the outskirts of the town. My Dad was in construction and he built the family home. His father was a builder too, so I think he just fell into the industry. He was good at it.”

“
Was
good at it? Is he retired now?” Mallory sipped her coffee.

“Ahhh, no, sadly he passed away two years ago of a heart attack.” Sam looked understandably sad.

“Oh… gosh I’m so sorry…I-I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, no, please, it’s fine. My Mom is amazing. She won’t allow us to be sad. She says we should always remember the good stuff and so we do.” He looked pensive, “I think she tries to protect us both. Even though we’re adults.”

“Hmm, that’s what Mum’s do I suppose. So is your brother still in
Canada
?”

“Yeah, he just got married and his wife wasn’t ready to move all the way out here…so…here I am.”

“Mmmm, here you are…” Mallory said with a little gravel to her voice, making her blush again.

He had a strange effect on her. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at him from under her eyelashes. He smiled, knowingly, as he sipped his coffee.

Mallory surveyed his well-groomed, clean-cut, suited appearance which was in total contrast with his unruly, windswept mop of shaggy, brown hair.
A hazard of the Yorkshire winter weather
, she mused. She could tell that he was quite toned and muscular, simply by the hang of his suit. She already knew from earlier that he had strong arms and as he talked she imagined those arms encircling her. She fought to hide the shiver that travelled through her as she began to picture him naked.

“So, tell me about you.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap.

“What do you want to know?” She asked shyly, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“Everything…where you grew up…where you live…your friends…the whole nine yards.”

Mallory took a deep breath, “Well…I’m twenty eight, I live a short drive away from
Leeds
in a little railway cottage. I have a little Patterdale terrier called Ruby…she usually comes to work with me, but Josie, that’s my best friend, has taken her today. She ‘borrows’ her sometimes.” She smiled at how silly that must have sounded, “I’ve always lived here in
Yorkshire
. I’ve never lived abroad or been to
Canada
. I’ve been to Spain a few times…” she trailed off realising she was waffling a little.

“So what about your shop? What do you sell?” Sam enquired.

“Local crafts mainly. Gifts and cards, things like that. I make little hanging signs and sell those in the shop. My Aunt Sylvia insisted I open it. She left me the money to set up when she died, bless her.”

“Sounds like an amazing woman.” Sam offered.

“Hmm, she was. Very opinionated and sometimes irritating as hell but lovely all the same.” She continued to tell him enthusiastically about her shop and the different crafts people she had met.

Sam smiled and listened intently. He found her quite beautiful. Her long wavy hair fell in chocolate tendrils around her shoulders, where it had escaped the grasp of the claw pinning the rest of it in a loose pile atop her head.

He discretely ran his eyes over her body. Her curves were accentuated by the fitted skirt and top she wore, giving her a timeless Marilyn Monroe-esque appearance. Every so often she would push her spectacles up her nose, even when there was no need to do so. He thought that was really cute. Her bright blue eyes sparkled and he couldn’t help but smile at the way she waved her arms around as she spoke; so expressive. She was clearly a nervous talker. He felt the urge to stop her mouth with his. Not because she was boring; no she was
anything
but boring. He just wanted to kiss her. It took all the will he had not to just do it.

At the end of their conversation they stood outside the window of the coffee shop in the chilled December afternoon. Mallory felt sure she had bamboozled him with her non-stop jabbering and her life history.
Good job, he’s way out of my league really,
she thought to herself.
At least I won’t see him again to remind him what a clumsy, fat, chatterbox I am.
Hmmm, there was that low self-esteem rearing its ugly head again. She had always felt herself unattractive and had pretty much given up on the yo-yo dieting. After all, she was single and busy with
Le Petit Cadeau,
so it didn’t really matter that she had crept up three dress sizes since her youth.

Expecting this to be the start
and
end of a beautiful friendship, she held out her hand. “It was very nice to meet you, Sam with the
Canadian
accent.” She smiled. “Thank you for rescuing my face from a date with a concrete pavement.”

“You are very welcome.” He let out a long breath, but didn’t move. He wasn’t making a run for it. “It would have been such a shame to spoil such a pretty face with a bashed up nose and cracked teeth.”

Mallory chuckled as she saw him outwardly cringe as the words escaped his shapely lips. “Well, thank you…I think.” She glanced upward as if trying to decipher the compliment.

“You sound as if I’ll never see you again.” He looked sad, “Is that it? Is this the end? How could you? After all I’ve done for you?” He held his knuckles to his teeth and bit down in mock, melodramatic actor mode. The back of his other hand pressed to his forehead.

This guy was funny. She found herself allowing a small hope to shine through, that this was not the end. Perhaps he
did
want to see her again.

~~~~~

Later that night she sat, snuggled up on the sofa with Ruby, watching a re-run of
Friends
. It was the one where Brad Pitt’s formerly fat character, Will, is invited for Thanksgiving. He has an aversion to carbs because of his past and is scared to go back there. He fights himself when the yams pass him by and initially succeeds. It was one of her favourite episodes.
Humph, if only I had that amount of willpower
! She thought to herself.

She was just munching through another carb laden mouthful of cereal when the phone rang. Her heart leapt.
Surely he wouldn’t be ringing so soon?
She and the rather yummy Sam Buchanan had exchanged phone numbers at the end of their lunchtime chat and she had almost skipped back to the shop, avoiding all the cracks in the pavement this time around.

“H-hello?” she stammered hopefully, into the receiver.

“Hi ya, Chick! Are you okay? You sound a bit odd.” Perceptive as ever, Josie, who had been her best friend since school, was not known for beating around the bush. They had been friends through thick and thin. The
thick
boyfriends, who Mallory regrettably discovered were either too self-absorbed or more interested with cars and staring at other women’s tits. The
thin,
on the ground patches where loneliness and reluctant celibacy seemed to be the way of life thrust upon her. Josie was her touch stone, her voice of reason. She was glad to have the opportunity to spill the beans on the potential new guy in her life.

“Oooh Mally, he sounds dreamy.” Josie had swooned after Mallory had imparted every last detail she could remember; and there were many.

Josie loved listening to details about Mallory’s love life, since she had been with Brad since high school. They had been childhood sweethearts and had no intentions of ever being with anyone else. Still, Josie loved to live vicariously through her best friend any time a new man came on the scene. “Did you kiss him? Does he smell good? Is he well off?” Josie barraged her friend with questions.

“Good grief, Josie! Talk about the
Spanish Inquisition
.” There was a pause and the whirring of their brains was almost audible.

Suddenly the girls cried out in unison in their best
Monty Python
voices the oh-so famous line from the oh-so famous Python sketch.

“Anyway,” Mallory continued after they had stopped laughing hysterically, “I did notice he smelled rather gorgeous when I fell on him. Kind of fresh and Calvin Kleiny? And
no
I didn’t kiss him. What do you take me for, woman?”

“I take you for a gorgeous girl who has not had a good orgasm in almost a year! That’s what! You deserve something good, Mally!”

“Thank you, Josie, but you know I don’t just go about jumping into bed with random men who save me from smashing my two front teeth in.” She giggled.

“No, you just wait and wait to find that the bloke you have been waiting for is more interested in his bloody vintage
Mark II Ford Escort
.” Josie reminded Mallory of her last disastrous relationship. Mallory groaned.

“Don’t go there, Josie. I honestly thought Craig’s obsession with that canary yellow passionless wagon was endearing at first.”

“Yes. Until you found out that he used to tuck it in every night.” The two friends howled with laughter. “So,
is
he well off?”

“Josie! Really, I don’t ask such questions. Anyway, I’m guessing he’s comfortable. His job sounds quite high flying. Honestly though, Josie, I don’t care about that stuff. I just want someone who looks at me as though he could ravish me on the spot; someone who wants to make a life with me; someone who won’t mind that I’m not super-model thin.” Mallory sighed at that last thought.

“Hey! What have I told you about that? Men prefer curves.” Josie attempted to stomp on the negativity.

“Yeah? Shame that none of them are prepared to admit that in public. Eh?”

“So do you think he
will
call you?” Ah there we go, Josie had asked the dreaded, million-dollar question.

“Oh I
really
hope so, Josie. I had a really good feeling about him.”

“In your knickers I bet.” Josie gave a coarse cackle, making her sound like a fish wife. Mallory tutted and shaking her head, decided she was tired out.

Giving a yawn she mumbled, “And on that note, Josie Gardiner, I am hanging up. Night night.”

“Night night you spoil sport. Love you squillions, babe.”

“Love you too, you cackling banshee!” The conversation came to its usual banter-filled end and Mallory was once again alone, save for the little black Patterdale terrier with staring brown eyes pawing at her for attention.

~~~~~

Mallory’s shop was crammed the next day. She was rushed off her feet and even had to call in Josie for assistance. Together they smiled, chatted, served customers and had the old fashioned cash register make that fabulous
kerching!
noise over and over again. When five o’clock finally came around, Mallory locked the door heaving a huge sigh of relief.

“Phew! Thank goodness it’s time for home.” She slid down the door, landing with a bump on her ample bottom.