Thinking of You by Jill Mansell

a bronze velvet chaise longue. Turning over the price tag, she blanched and abruptly stopped envisaging it in her living room.
    â€œNever mind that, look at these .” Twenty feet away, Carla held up a pair of heavy silver Georgian candlesticks. “I love them!”
    â€œStop it.” Ginny’s eyes danced as Carla attempted to stuff them into her cream leather handbag. “ Bad girl. Put them back.”
    â€œDamn bag’s not big enough. No forward planning, that’s my trouble. Ooh, now this is smaller.” Picking up an enameled box, Carla playfully waggled it.
    â€œAntlers!” Ginny let out a shriek of delight and rushed over to take a closer look. “I’ve always wanted a pair of real antlers.”
    â€œThey wouldn’t suit you. And you definitely couldn’t slip those into your handbag.” As she said this, Carla’s gaze slid past Ginny.
    â€œAnd I’d rather you didn’t try it.”
    The moment she heard the voice behind her, Ginny knew. So did her skin, which came out in a shower of goose bumps, and her stomach, which reacted with a nauseous lurch of recognition.
    â€œYou can put that down too,” the voice continued, this time addressing Carla.
    Taken aback by his tone, Carla put down the decorative enameled box and said chippily, “I wasn’t going to steal it, you know. We were just having a bit of fun. It was a joke .”
    â€œGood job you’re not a stand-up comedian then. People might ask for their money back.”
    â€œWell, you’re full of charm, aren’t you?” Her eyes flashing, Carla demanded, “Is this how you treat all your customers?”
    â€œNot at all.” His reply was cool. “But you don’t appear to be customers, do you? Call me old-fashioned but I’d class a customer as someone who pays for what she takes from a shop.”
    Ginny closed her eyes. This was awful, just awful , and Carla was practically incandescent with—
    â€œHow dare you!” Carla shouted, marching toward the door. “As if anyone in their right mind would even want to buy anything from your crappy shop. Come on, Gin, we’re out of here. And don’t worry; I won’t ever be coming to this dump again.”
    But I will, Ginny thought in a panic.
    â€œExcellent.” Moving to one side, the man allowed Carla to stalk past him. “Mission accomplished.”
    â€œNo, it isn’t,” Ginny blurted out. “Stop! Carla, come back, we’re going to sort this out.”
    â€œ Ha. The only way we could sort this out is if I gored him to death with his own antlers.” Jabbing furiously at her phone, Carla said, “Hello? Hello? Yes, I want a taxi this minute…”
    â€œWe came here for lunch.” Ginny turned in desperation to face the man. “We had a lovely meal.”
    â€œDid you pay for it?”
    â€œYes!”
    His eyes glittered. “With your own credit card or with somebody else’s?”
    â€œOh, for crying out loud, will you stop accusing me? We haven’t—”
    â€œOh great, you’re still here!” Evie appeared in the shop doorway, a bright smile on her face. “I just came over to tell Finn all about you, but I see you’ve already met. Finn, did Ginny tell you the good news?”
    â€œNo, I didn’t,” Ginny said hurriedly. “You see, there’s been a bit of a—”
    â€œWe don’t have to advertise for a new waitress!” Evie turned to Finn. “This is Ginny Holland, and she’s coming to work for us; isn’t that—”
    â€œNo, she’s not,” Finn said flatly. Very flatly.
    â€œI’m coming to work for you ,” said Ginny, looking at Evie and praying she’d believe her when the whole sorry story came tumbling out.
    â€œMaybe you thought you were,” Finn countered, “but Evie only runs the restaurant. My name’s Finn Penhaligon and