Chapter 8

James closed the door. He turned, looked down to Alesha, and smiled. Nervous, Alesha bent her head and started unbuttoning her coat.

"Let me take that," said James as he helped Alesha get out of her coat.

"Come with me. I am finishing up in the kitchen". James led Alesha inside the house, stopping to drape her coat over a chair in the hall before moving down the steps to the large kitchen that used to house a family of three but now mainly stood empty.

"A glass of whine while I put the finishing touch to our dessert?" James was trying hard to remain calm, acting natural when all he wanted was for Alesha to give him a sign that they were ok. Over the last few hours, trying to guess if she would show up or not, he had half persuaded himself that she would come, only to tell him politely that she just wanted to be friends, that he was too old for her, and that she did not want to get into anything serious with him. He walked to the opened bottle, drew her a glass and brought it back to her. She had not said a word since entering the house.

Alesha was concentrating on keeping it casual. She knew that she would have to say something soon but she kept imagining scenarios in her head. She did not know anything about James' romantic life. She knew he and his wife had divorced the year before she came to work for him. He seemed at peace with the decision, even if she knew he missed is son, who was living with his ex-wife in Edinburgh. Apart from that, she had no idea if he had had girlfriends since. Were there other women in his life? Was he looking for something serious or was he content with casual affairs here and there?

She looked up as James brought her a glass of wine. Just the right temperature, unlike Friday night. The kitchen smelled great, and she could hear the quiet hiss of something being slowly cooked. He was such "an adult", a sophisticated, intelligent professional who was at ease with anyone while she, at 33, still felt like an overgrown teenager. Some days, she had real difficulties believing that was indeed a lawyer, that she was friend was someone like James. Not that he did anything to make her fee that way. It was entirely self-conscious. She looked at him and he smiled. She was making a mountain out of a mole-hill….

James could see Alesha was trying to gage his mood, his intentions. Well, nothing to it then. He took the glass from her hands, putting it on the counter beside her, settling his glass alongside it and bent to kiss her. A light, gentle kiss on the lips. Alesha tilted her face up, giving him better access to her mouth. James deepened the kiss until they both had their arms around each other, getting back to the effortless, exciting times of Friday night. When the kiss broke, James caressed Alesha's back before taking a step back, out of the embrace.

"Don't you hate it? That awkward first-time-together-after-the-deed moment?", asked James ruefully while handing back her glass to Alesha and picking his up again.

She chuckled with him, happy and relieved. Things were back to normal. Almost normal. James as her friend… and something more.

"You go through many of these moments", she asked him teasingly.

"Nah… Way to stressful for a man of my years. You?"

"You were my boss for four years. That puts a cramp in a girl's style"

Ok. There they were. Both single. Both just having admitted that they were available and that they did not make a habit of these situations. Alesha decided to let her guards down, to enjoy that first date she had been thinking about for so long.

"What are you cooking? It smells great!"

James caressed her shoulder has he walked passed her to the stove. "Risotto with escargot and blue cheese, one of my well-tested recipes. It's ready but I need to stir the custard for dessert before we eat."

Alesha followed James to the stove, peering and sniffing at the various pots. "Hmmmm…. You are a man of many talents, James Steele."

James looked at her over his shoulder and smiled has he worked. "I am glad you think so. What do you think if we eat in the living room instead of in the dining room?"

"Perfect. You want me to set something up?" Alesha was eager for this occasion to keep busy, to keep things going smoothly, normally.

"Sure. You could set up the table. Just snoop around the kitchen and bring anything you think we need."

Ten minutes later they were both sitting on the living room floor, across the low table, eating and drinking wine, talking about everything and nothing, laughing. It was as it had been so often before when they shared a drink or a meal after a case. They only difference was the setting, the added air of intimacy between them and this intangible but very real feeling that all of this was leading to something else.

After they finished, Alesha insisted on helping James clean up before they partake in the glass of scotch that James offered. They did so quietly, moving around each other in the kitchen in comfortable silence. The awkwardness of the beginning of the evening was gone, leaving in place an awareness of each other and of things to come.

As they finished, James turned to Alesha. "Let's have that scotch in the upstairs study, shall we? The view at that time of night is great."

Alesha nodded and followed him up the stairs, in this part of the house that she had never visited, that was not often presented to visitors. His inner sanctum.