They left the coffee shop to a day that had grown even colder, to the point that Chiara legitimately felt bad to appropriate Drew's coat. She forced him to take it back, though it was ass-kicking cold by then.

"No, no, this isn't going to work," Drew declared, pulling her into a shop. He pointed out some very nice coats in her size, and asked her which she preferred. When she demurred, he said, "I'm going to choose if you don't, and I'm partial to the pea-soup green one myself, you ought to know."

She wasn't sure if he was kidding or not, so she quickly pointed at a pretty one that was powder blue.

Drew smiled. "Good choice," he agreed. "It will bring out your eyes." He gestured to the clerk, who had recognized him and was hovering. He pointed to the coat, and she hurried to grab Chiara's size.

She looked at the tag while waiting for the clerk, and saw that it was eleven hundred pounds. She dropped the tag as if it were scorching hot and turned to Drew. "Do you know how much it costs?" she hissed.

He shrugged. "About a thousand pounds?"

She shook her head violently. "More!"

"We're not doing this again, okay?" he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. He reached for the unflattering pea-soup colored coat, which also had a horrible faux fur collar. "You want this one instead?"

Chiara took a deep breath and shook her head.

"Look, it's Max Mara," Drew explained, as if that were supposed to mean something. "That's about the right price, so don't fuss about it." He saw how big her eyes were. "Think of it as a Christmas gift, yeah?"

"But I have a perfectly good coat," she fretted.

"So now you'll have two," he said reasonably. "Do you know how many overcoats my mum has?"

Chiara shook her head, fascinated.

"Well, I don't either, but it's definitely more than two," he responded.

The clerk returned with the coat, and Chiara couldn't help but smile as she slid her arms through the sleeves. It was soft, smooth, supple, all those wonderful, slippery words that started with "s" and just rolled off the tongue.

"It's a cashmere, silk and wool blend," the clerk told her. "That's what gives it this wonderful feel." She invited Drew to run his hand along the back, which he did, nodding his approval.

"Looks smashing on you," he told Chiara. "Have a look, dar--have a look," he corrected, directing her to the floor length mirror. "Do you like it on?"

Chiara nodded, unable to help herself. The shoulder seams fell perfectly, the sleeves were the perfect length, it had the casual slash pockets she loved, and a simple belt tie with no pesky buttons.

It was perfect.

She turned to Drew.

She didn't want him to think she was shallow, and that all was forgiven with the spending of some cash. But.

She didn't want him to think that she didn't know how to accept a gift, either. Or that she was ungrateful.

"Thank you, very much," she said softly. "It's as beautiful as the shoes, definitely the most beautiful coat I've ever owned."

"You're welcome," he replied. He leaned in, noticing again how the blue brought out her eyes, and he wanted to kiss her, remembering how marvelous it had been to kiss her in the leaves on that long past autumn day.

He exhaled through his nose and stepped away, gesturing again for the clerk. "She also needs a scarf, please, and matching gloves, the scarf in a non-scratchy wool and the gloves in suede, in a darker blue that won't clash." He turned to Chiara. "Unless you have a different preference? Anything you like." He pointed to the wall of the shop, which was covered with scarves and gloves in a bewildering variety of colors and textiles.

Chiara looked at him. She'd never thought about gloves and a scarf that matched each other, let alone matched her coat. She shook her head. "I don't care," she assured him, her voice still soft. It occurred to her that, when he wasn't at Langton, when he was photographed for the tabloids or on the telly, he was always very well turned out.

"What are you doing?" Drew asked when Chiara began to carefully put the scarf and gloves away in her bag, and fold the coat away. "You need to put them on, that's why we bought them innit? Have you looked outside?"

Oh yeah.

"They're too nice to wear," Chiara objected weakly.

"Shall we buy another set, then?" Drew began briskly, looking around the shop.

"NO!" Chiara began to put the coat on with alacrity as the clerk efficiently cut the tags off the scarf and gloves.

"Oh wow, look how beautiful," Chiara murmured, running her fingers down the sleeves when they stepped out into the frigid afternoon.

"Yeah," Drew agreed, smiling.

Chiara looked up at him, her smile fading, biting her lips together. She made no response, but merely swallowed and began walking, flipping her scarf over her shoulder.

"Where to next?" she called over her shoulder.

The spent the remaining hour or so of daylight in and out of specialty shops, looking for things for Noah and Ellie, finding some antique earrings for her and a couple of rare books for him. They even found some dog toys for William Wallace, and Chiara was able forget for minutes at a time how Drew had humiliated her the night before.

Drew was recognized everywhere they went, but he was only bothered for photographs a few times, and they weren't followed again like they had been in the store.

"Mum says they're heading for a pub that sells smashing fish and chips and wants to know if we want to join them," Drew mentioned after reading a text off his phone.

"Sounds good," Chiara agreed. Their scrumptious tea at Harrod's seemed long ago, and she was famished.

"You're not one of those girls who's against fish and chips because they're too oily and fattening or anything?"

Chiara made a face and looked at him in the growing dusk.

"Do I look like one of those girls who's against fish and chips because they're too oily and fattening and that?" she asked, holding her hands out from her body.

"I think you look absolutely marvelous," he said, shrugging as he smiled.

Again, she didn't respond, but turned and began walking toward the shop exit.

They caught a cab and went to the pub, which was warm, cheerful, and noisy, redolent with the smell of fried food and beer.

"There they are!" Noah cried when they entered. "Over here, Chiara, we're over here!"

"Look at you in that lovely coat and scarf!" Ellie declared, leaning in to hug her as Ned smiled. "That color is perfection on you, simply perfection."

"That's what I told her," Drew said, his face all smiles as he helped Chiara out of the coat and scarf in question and hanging them up on the hooks that were next to their table. "Really brings out her beautiful eyes, you know?"

"Absolutely," Ellie agreed, nodding as they all sat.

"So, did you two have a productive afternoon?" she asked after they'd ordered. "Did you buy lots of things?" She was looking at both of them, but it was primarily to Chiara that her words were addressed.

"I got my coat, and the scarf and gloves," Chiara said, nodding.

"She wouldn't really let me get her anything else," Drew complained, putting an arm around Chiara's shoulders and shaking her playfully.

"We got things for you two, though," Chiara clarified, gesturing to Noah and Ellie.

"As long as the important things are covered," Noah quipped.

Ellie sat back, her eyes flicking to the hand that Drew had on Chiara's shoulder.

After a moment, he moved it from her shoulder, but kept it on the back of her chair, and Chiara could tell that Ellie was happy about it.

Ned, who was sitting on the other side of her, shifted his chair a little closer to her when someone walked by and jostled it.

Soon after, huge plates of fish and chips began arriving at their table, and everyone began eating.

"You ever wonder why shopping makes people so hungry?" Ned asked. "If you think about it, we're not really doing anything except walking around in little circles and looking at things, but I'm starving, I reckon." He popped an entire chip in his mouth, chewing vigorously, and followed this by downing half his beer in two or three huge swallows.

"I think we're going to need another plate," Ellie told the waitress, laughing. "Right, boys?"

"Definitely," Drew agreed.

"Say, if I come back after I put in your order, do you think you'd have time for a quick selfie with me?" the waitress asked with a pert smile. "I'm one of your biggest fans, you know. I made the bartender put the telly on your BBC show yesterday, wouldn't let him change it for nothing!" She looked between Ned and Drew hopefully.

Ned and Drew exchanged a look.

"Sure," Ned told her, making her smile grow. "Just please don't post it until tomorrow? Could you do that? So no one knows where we are?"

She nodded with enthusiasm. "No worries. Oh, my friends are going to flip right out their trees with jealousy! Thanks ever so!" She hurried off to put in their order, and came back with drinks on the house for everyone.

"Thank you, thank you," she said again, twirling off to serve another table, her joy palpable.

Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed the attention she'd paid to them, and, other than their waitress, they were left alone to enjoy their food and each other.

There was a juke box in the corner, and Twist and Shout by the Beatles came on just as Ned finished his second pint. He looked next to him and saw Chiara singing and bopping along, and held out his hand.

"Let's dance," he suggested, eyes merry.

"Ooh, yes, sounds smashing," she agreed, placing her hand in his.

They rose and joined the five or six couples who were mixing it up in the small space set aside for dancing, doing a sort of modern version of the twist as they sang along at the top of their lungs.

Ellie and Noah watched and smiled, and Ellie pulled out her phone to take a couple of quick photos and even a bit of video. Ned and Chiara were well-suited for dancing with each other, smiling together as they sang and twisted.

Drew was careful to keep his face neutral, but he couldn't help but remember Ned and Chiara's kiss from the night before, and how he'd punched his good friend of the past ten years. He resolved that he would keep his temper today, and not let it get the best of him. He smiled and watched a bit longer, then rose and walked over to where they were dancing, tapping Ned on the shoulder.

"May I cut in?" he asked in a loud, joking voice.

Ned turned to say no, but saw Drew's face, and for no reason that Chiara could fathom, nodded without saying a word and stepped aside.

And in the manner of cheesy, romantic movies since time immemorial, the song ended and Everything by Michael Bublé came on.

Chiara considered walking away, but she realized Ellie was watching, and didn't want to do anything so mean. She remained on the floor, and put her arms around Drew's neck. He put his arms around her waist, and they began to move to the music.

Dammit, why did this song have to come on, right now? And why did Drew have to be so sexy? Chiara was standing so close she could smell him, and even though he'd had beer and eaten fried food, she could still smell his shampoo and and aftershave, and it was dreamy.

Chiara's fingers found their way into his hair seemingly of their own accord, and she could feel his arms tighten around her, pulling her closer.

Drew was doing everything he could experience the moment without making Chiara feel uncomfortable, and once again he was cursing his stupidity in bollocksing up whatever chance he'd had with this perfectly wonderful girl he was holding in his arms.

He could feel her hips swaying to the music, he could feel her lovely figure pressing into him, and it was making him excited. He swallowed, and pressed a kiss into her hair, closing his eyes.

Chiara, too, was feeling the moment, but on the heels of this came the shameful memories of the night before, and she could feel the hot tears pressing against her eyelids.

She swallowed and tried to hold back the tears, but she took a gasping breath, and she knew that Drew had felt it.

"CC?" His voice was soft. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm fine."

He rubbed her back gently. "We can sit down if you want."

She shook her head, keeping her face pressed into his shoulder. "Your mum is watching. Let's just dance, okay?"

She felt Drew take a deep breath, felt his chest move up and down. "Fuck, CC, if I could take it back, if I could do anything and take it back, I would, you have to believe me."

Chiara nodded. "I do, but you can't." She lifted her head and raised sorrowful eyes to his, breaking his heart a little bit more. "You can't." She pressed a finger against his lips. "Let's just dance," she repeated, nodding, encouraging him to nod along. "Yeah?"

He finally nodded, accepting defeat. "Yeah," he agreed, pulling her head back down on his shoulder.