Miracle at the Museum of Broken Hearts Read Online Free Page B

few boxes left until we can start setting up, if you can believe that.’ I was proud of how much I’d done so quickly. If I kept it up, surely he’d have to give me the curator post, right? It would be terrible if he brought in someone new after I’d worked so hard.
    ‘ I can’t believe it, actually. That’s brilliant, Rose.’ I basked in Heath’s impressed expression. ‘Look, I’ve hardly seen you since you started here. Why don’t you let me take you out for a bite? You’ve been locked in that cellar for weeks now. It’s the least I can do.’
    A flash of nerves hit as I pictured us sitti ng across from each other in a cozy restaurant, candles flickering in Heath’s dark eyes. Despite my hesitation, though, I knew this would be a great opportunity to elaborate on my skills. Museum skills, of course. ‘Um, okay.’
    ‘ Great. Just let me grab my coat and I’ll be with you in a second.’
    I nodded as he dashed up to his office. This would give me a chance to get to know Heath on a personal level, too. After all, he was hardly going to appoint me curator if we barely had a relationship.
    He came back downstairs sporting a smart-looking black wool coat and a camel-coloured scarf draped around his neck in a casually cool way. Instantly I tugged at my own ragged scarf I’d picked up at a car boot sale, all too aware the cream had turned the unattractive colour of Beano-pee. It was definitely time to get rid of this thing.
    ‘ Let’s go.’ Heath put a hand on the small of my back and guided me through the door. Outside, the soft glow of streetlamps lit the night, and the air was cool and crisp. The hum of the city – voices, footfalls, and the whoosh of buses in the distance – surrounded us.
    ‘ W here are we headed?’ I asked, after we’d walked for a minute or two in silence. As much as I wanted to fill up the empty space with chatter, every time I opened my mouth, the words seemed to dry up. What was it about this man that made me so nervous?
    Heath turned toward me and grinned, and some thing stirred inside. God, he was almost another person when he smiled. ‘Well, it’s a cold night and I’m in the mood for something filling. There’s a great curry house over in Whitechapel, if you don’t mind a stroll?’
    Curry house? Visions of candles and meaningful looks fled, and my tension eased. A busy curry house was just what I needed to feel comfortable with Heath. ‘That would be fantastic.’
    We chatted companionably about the museum and the remaining tasks as we wound our way down Brick Lane, past all the tourists chomping on cheap Indian, and over to Whitechapel Road.
    ‘ Almost there.’ He pointed to a building with a queue snaking out the door. ‘There’s always a bit of a wait, but I promise it’s worth it.’
    My stomach rumbled loudly at the thought of food. Heath laughed then placed his gloved hand against my belly. Even through my thick coat, I could feel its warmth. I tilted my head up, surprised to see an almost-tender look in his eyes. Then, his usual mask slid into place, and he let his hand fall away.
    ‘ Table for two?’ The maitre d’ asked a few minutes later, leading us into a buzzing restaurant packed with happy diners laughing, eating, and chatting. The smell of fragrant spices drifting through the air was amazing, and I turned to Heath.
    ‘ Wow!’ I took a deep breath in, filling my lungs and soul with the heady scent.
    Heath nodded as he shrugged off his coat and settled into his seat. There was barely enough room to pull out the chair, the tables were packed so tightly. ‘I know. I love this place.’
    ‘ So what do you usually get here?’ I scanned the menu, totally out of my depth. Gareth and I had been more along the lines of French brasserie than fiery curries.
    ‘ Why don’t we order a selection of dishes, so you can try lots of different things?’ Heath said. ‘Some have a lot of chillies. Do you like it hot?’
    ‘ Er . . . w ell, to be honest, I