The Wedding Invite (Lakeview) (Lakeview Contemporary Romance Book 6) (33 page)

76

H
er car had been
on the blink
again,
and she’d been waiting for a taxi home from work. The same day, Nicola remembered, she had been in a right strop. Because the car was out of action, she was using the manual as opposed to her trusty power-wheelchair, and she hated the manual chair.

“Waiting for anyone in particular?” Ken had enquired, briefcase in hand as he passed through reception.

Nicola was sitting just inside the centre’s front porch. “My lift home,” she answered, keeping one eye on the Motiv8 entrance.

“The car giving you problems again?” he asked. “You should have told me earlier, I could have organised a lift for you.”

She waved it away. “It’s fine. Anyway, I think he’s here now.”

Ken followed her gaze. “Ah, I don’t think so.”

The approaching taxi
was
meant for Nicola, but the dispatcher had neglected to mention that the lift was for a disabled passenger. The taxi driver looked apologetically at his saloon Ford Mondeo into which there wasn’t a hope of fitting even a collapsed buggy, let alone a manual wheelchair.

“Sorry, love,” he said out of the wound-down window. “I’ll ring dispatch and get them to send the right car out to you straightway.”

“It’s fine,” Ken informed him. “I’ll give her a lift. It’s on my way.”

“You sure, bud?” The taxi-man looked from one to the other.

“It’s fine,” said Ken quickly just as Nicola opened her mouth to protest. “Thanks anyway.”

When the man drove off, Nicola glared at Ken. “I can organise my own lift home, thank you very much.”

“Oh, don’t be so defensive,” he said easily, closing the door behind them. “You need a lift home, and I told you that I’m going that way. Will you stop your gabbing for once and just say thank you?”

Nicola hadn’t expected that. “OK then, thanks,” she said, feeling like a bold child.

They reached his car. “Now, do you need any help, or would it be too dangerous for my health to offer?” he said, disengaging the central locking.

Nicola hid a smile. Was she really that touchy?

“I’ll be fine,” she answered, carefully manoeuvring herself out of her wheelchair and onto the passenger seat. Before she knew it, Ken had expertly collapsed the chair and was storing it in the boot of his roomy Citroen Picasso.

Nicola stared at him, surprised at his ease.

“What?” he asked, seeing her questioning look.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve done that before.”

He shrugged. “Maybe you don’t know better.”

Nicola stared straight ahead, not knowing how to answer that.

Ken grinned. “Nothing to say, Nicola? That’s not like you.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Whatever it was about Ken he always seemed to bring out her petulant side.

After a moment Ken spoke. “OK then, if you must know, my dad’s a C4 quad.”

“Really?” Nicola couldn’t hide her surprise. She had come across many quadriplegics throughout her rehabilitation. C4 was the one of the most difficult, the worst kind of injury.

“Yes, really. Car accident. He’s been in a wheelchair since I was twelve years old.”

“I didn’t know.”

Ken shrugged again. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

That was certainly true. But thinking about it, Ken’s easygoing attitude to her now made a lot more sense. He always treated her the same way he had since before her accident. That was why she had accepted the job here in the first place. It was like Ken didn’t even
see
her disability. And why would he, Nicola thought, if he had been brought up not to?

“So is he completely paralysed or – ?”

“Arms and legs. He can move his neck and shoulders and has feeling in just one of his fingers. But he’s OK.”

Nicola suddenly felt ashamed. Here she was feeling sorry for herself and considering herself immobile because her
car
was out of action.

“So does he live with you or –?” Nicola wondered why she was suddenly having trouble finishing her sentences. She wanted to know more, but didn’t want to appear nosey.

“Nah, he’s at home in Lakeview with my mum.” He smiled. “She’s great with him but, as you can imagine, it’s not always easy. He has a nurse coming in a few days a week to keep an eye on him, and I often take him out and about at weekends, just to get him away from the house.” Ken flashed her a sideways grin. “So in case you ever wondered why I drive a space wagon instead of a flashy Beamer, now you know.”

“This is completely out of your way, Ken, you really didn’t have to,” Nicola said as they approached her road.

“It’s not a problem.”

“Yes, but I could have waited for the taxi and you could be home by now.”

He looked at her. “Nicola, did it ever cross your silly little mind that I might actually
want
to drop you home?”

“What do you mean?”

Ken tapped the steering wheel, while the car remained stationary. “We’ve known each other – what – nearly five, six years now?”

“Hmm.”

“And in all that time, we’ve never once done anything together outside of work. So I’m bringing you home because I consider myself a friend – and I want to have a nose at your house.”

Nicola pondered this. Ken was right. They had known one another for a long time, even longer than Nicola had known Dan. While they got on fantastically well in their working relationship, that was where it had always ended. She hadn’t really thought about it before, but there was no reason why she and Ken shouldn’t be friendly outside work. They were pretty close inside so why not otherwise?

“OK,” she said cheerfully as the traffic moved off again, “I’d be happy to give you the grand tour and, if you behave yourself, I just might make you dinner.”

Ken grinned across at her. “Now that,” he said, “is an invitation I can’t refuse.”

Barney was always delighted with new visitors – but seemed completely enthralled with Ken. The feeling was obviously mutual, Nicola thought, smiling at them both. Barney jumped up on his hind legs and Ken dropped to the floor to tickle him, the dog eagerly licking Ken’s ears.

“Hey, he’s great!” Ken enthused. “Aren’t you, boy?” Ken began to chase him from one end of the room to the other, Barney thrilled with the attention.

“Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” Nicola said wryly.

Recalling her earlier promise of making dinner, she went into the kitchen to check the gastronomic contents of the fridge-freezer. Blast it. One shrivelled carrot, two onions, a half-used pepper and a six-pack of outdated Petit Filous. Not even Jamie Oliver could get excited over that lot, she thought, throwing the yoghurts and parsnips into the bin. And not a frozen dinner in sight.

“Nice place,” Ken commented from behind, “obviously custom-built.”

She followed his gaze. “Yes. The wheelchair association were a great help in finding contractors and they did a great job with it. I used to love cooking, but these days I don’t do anything particularly elaborate. It’s not worth all the effort for one, but it’s great to know that if I want to, I can.”

“So you eat out a lot?”

She gave a short laugh. “No, I
order
out a lot.”

“Oh. Well, look, I know you said you’d make dinner, but don’t go putting yourself out on my account. A Chinese or an Indian would do me.”

Nicola grimaced and nodded towards the contents of the fridge. “I’m afraid it’ll have to.”

She phoned for a takeaway and while they waited in the living-room she and Ken talked easily about work, family and the
Lord of the Rings
trilogy.

“I loved it,” Ken said. “Saw it five times.”

“What?”

“Yep, an absolute masterpiece – the best film I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, it was good, but I wouldn’t go that far.”

“OK, what’s the best film you’ve ever seen?”

Nicola thought about it for a minute. “
Planet of the Apes
” she said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it was great – why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I wouldn’t have pegged you as the sci-fi type,” he said, sitting back comfortably on her couch.

“Oh, and what would you have pegged me for?”

Ken’s eyes twinkled. “Probably the
Pretty Woman
or
Dirty Dancing
type.”


What
?”

Ken guffawed. “Well, all the girlies go for those kind of films, don’t they?” he teased. “You know, all ‘this happy ever after’ stuff.”

“Not this girlie.” Nicola feigned insult.

He laughed again. “No, probably not.”

“Well, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Ken held his hands up in surrender. “Nothing, nothing – jeez, sorry I said anything.”

Nicola laughed. Despite herself she was really enjoying their banter. It seemed weird being like this – with Ken of all people.

Just then, the sound of Barney barking in the hallway indicated the arrival of their Chinese takeaway. While Ken answered the door to the deliveryman, Nicola went into the kitchen and hovered by the open fridge, debating whether or not to open a bottle of wine. They couldn’t, not when Ken was driving. Anyway, it wasn’t as though he’d be staying long. It was only a lift home after all.

For some reason she felt vaguely disappointed. It had been ages since she’d had someone other than the girls around for dinner. OK, so it wasn’t dinner in the strictest sense but she was really enjoying the company.

“I’ll have a glass if you’re having one,” Ken said easily, as if reading her mind. He was busily open doors, and locating plates and cutlery as if he did it on a regular basis. To her surprise, Nicola found that she didn’t really mind. Ken had such an easygoing way about him that it wasn’t too out of place to see him rummaging around in her kitchen. It was a strange feeling.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, chatting and joking about work until Ken eventually spoke.

“You know, it’s nice to see you having a laugh, Nicola.”

She looked at him, surprised. “What do you mean?” Was she that strait-laced at work?

“Well, if you don’t mind my saying so, you haven’t been yourself lately.” When she didn’t answer, he continued, watching her warily. “Is it Dan?”

Her fork paused in mid-air. “What makes you think that?”

“Come on, as I said we’ve known each other for a long time now. When you came to work with us first you were great, very positive, full of enthusiasm, not a bother on you. But lately, you’ve gotten quite touchy. The last time I saw you like that,” he reddened slightly, “well, you and Dan were going through a tough time. I just wondered if he’d been – I don’t know – hassling you or anything.”

Nicola was faintly touched. The way he said it, it was almost as though Ken was being protective of her. She slid pieces of green pepper around her plate. “Well, the divorce is due to come through shortly, and I suppose I’m feeling it a little.”

“That’s understandable of course but …” Ken was hesitant.

“What?”

“Look, tell me to mind my own business if you like, but you’re doing just fine without him. I mean, look at you – you’re completely independent, you live alone, you drive yourself wherever you want to go and of course,” he added grinning, “you’ve got a top job.”

“I know all that but …” Nicola gave him a watery smile, “that’s all well and good, but that’s exactly it.”

“Sorry?”

“That’s it. What you just said, my life in a nutshell. Sure I have a great life, considering, and I value my independence above everything else but – that’s it.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I mean, I know I have my friends and my family are great but …”

“Ah.” Ken seemed to understand. “The divorce is making you wonder where you’ll go from here.”

“Yes.” It was weird discussing something like this with him, and not with Laura or her mother – but he was so easy to talk to.

“I didn’t really care about anything like that before,” she explained. “When I was in London, I spent most of my time concentrating on getting my life back. When I came back, I was determined to prove to myself that I could live pretty much the way I had before the injury – well, within reason anyway,” she added with an easy smile. “But I’m not even thirty, my friends are only beginning to settle down, and I’m getting
divorced
.”

Ken sat back. “You’re wondering if this means you’re on your own from now on?”

“Well, yes. And I’m thinking things now that I’ve never really had to think about before – things I’ve never had
time
to consider, really.”

“Like?”

“Well, I don’t think I need to spell it out that I’m hardly the ideal person to go out on the town with, so how
am
I supposed to find someone else? Where do I start?”

Ken looked at her. “You think that no-one would be interested in you because of your disability?”

Nicola nodded and waited. Waited for him to tell her that
of course
people would be interested in her, that
of course
she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life on her own, not when she was so young, and with so much to offer and –

“You’re probably right,” he said, putting a forkful of food in his mouth. “I see it with Dad all the time,” he added. “When he’s out and about, people see his disability, and that’s all they see. Nicola, if you go out at night to a pub or a nightclub, the fact is that most guys won’t even consider you as a potential date,” he paused, “despite the fact that you are
extremely
cute.”

Nicola suspected the compliment was an attempt to boost her spirits and she gave a slight smile.

“But most people don’t look beyond that – they can’t look beyond it. People are afraid of what they don’t know. And let’s be honest, most people – inevitably the ones you wouldn’t want to be with anyway – don’t need the hassle.”

“Hassle?”

“Yeah. Before my dad got injured he was like yourself – had an extremely active life. He used to go rock-climbing, hill walking, the odd bit of golf, and he and Mum were part of a huge social circle in Lakeview. But when he got injured – ”

“People change,” Nicola knew the feeling well.

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