She put her ancient leather briefcase over her head and made a quick splash over the road to the pub opposite. A welcome blast of warmth and the delicious waft of home-cooked food met her as she pushed open the door. From the outside, the Edwardian building appeared rather drab to passers-by, but the interior was a stunning surprise. Penny had long since grown accustomed to its magnificence. She gave a rapid glance round the gilt mirrors and the splendid cream and red tiles, looking for her denim-clad cowboy-slash-accountant. When a tall, broad-shouldered man stood up from a table in the window, looking darkly handsome in a suit and tie, she didn’t immediately recognise him. Then she twigged. Of course, it was a working day, and Kurt wasn’t a cowboy. He actually worked in finance. That’s why he’s wearing a suit, she told herself, trying to damp down the rush of butterflies that fluttered into life at the sight of him. Penny was well known, and many of the pub regulars greeted her warmly as she threaded her way across the room.
