I laugh.
‘Work can be pretty boring, so I have to figure out ways to get through the day without losing my mind,’ I tell him. ‘But something about you made me want to cause more trouble than usual.’
‘Well, we’ve certainly done that in our short time together,’ he points out. ‘It’s nice to meet someone who matches my energy.’
I smile to myself. It does feel like we’re trying to match each other – if not one-up each other. I mean, obviously, because I’ve never brought a guy back to the office before.
‘You seem like someone I could dance all night with,’ I say, letting my drunk brain take the wheel. ‘But you also seem like the kind of guy it would be nice to just chill with – I bet nothing is boring with you.’
‘Thanks,’ he replies, a hint of a smile in his voice. ‘Although we don’t call this dancing all night down south.’
‘You know what I mean,’ I say with a laugh, lightly batting his stomach. ‘I don’t think I would say this if I wasn’t a little bit drunk – or if I wasn’t surrounded by Jennifer’s motivational Post-it notes – but why do I feel like I’ve known you my whole life? Ugh, I never say shit like this, how have you got me saying shit like this?’
‘Sorry,’ he says with a soft laugh, his fingers gently brushing through my hair. ‘I’m having to figure it out myself, why, when I first clapped eyes on you, everything else seemed to stop, nothing else seemed to matter.’
His words crash over me like a wave, and suddenly, I’m overwhelmed by this intense connection I feel with him. My whole life, I’ve been criticised, overlooked and written off as a good-time girl who doesn’t want anything serious out of life. But with Ethan, it feels different. It feels real. Like he sees me, really sees me, and he likes what he sees exactly as it is. Not because of anything, or in spite of anything – just because.
‘I feel like I’m on fire when I’m around you,’ he tells me. ‘But at the same time, I feel like I can be myself around you. No bravado, no brave faces, no worrying about what you’ll think of me.’
The alcohol is definitely pulling the strings now, making me say things I would never dare to otherwise. But it’s like I can’t stop myself.
‘Do you believe in love at first sight?’ I ask him, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess them.
‘I’d like to,’ he replies. ‘But if you’re not sure, I could walk by again?’
I burst out laughing, pushing myself up so that I can sit on top of him.
‘It’s not that late, you know,’ I point out, hoping the night isn’t going to end anytime soon.
‘Then let’s keep this party going,’ he says, his smile as contagious as ever. ‘It’s a shame we didn’t bring anything to drink.’
‘Oh, we have a booze fridge for entertaining clients,’ I tell him, feeling a wicked grin spread across my face. ‘Shall we raid that? I’m sure I can replace it, before anyone notices – it’s only stuff from the Tesco Express downstairs.’
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ he says, his eyes lighting up as he takes my face in his hands and pulls me down for a kiss.
I can’t believe this is real. Here I am, in my office after hours, sitting on a man who is not only drop-dead gorgeous but whoalso seems to genuinely like me. The thought makes me feel a little sick, a little dizzy, but mostly… amazing.
I need to pinch myself – or maybe I just need to find that booze.
9
10 JANUARY 2025 – ALMOST TWO YEARS LATER…
I stifle a yawn.
I’m sitting in the back of the meeting room, desperately trying to keep up with taking meeting notes for Jennifer. Yes, her assistant is on maternity leave, again, so it’s down to me to fill in. And, yes, I am entirely convinced she’s getting pregnant just so that she doesn’t have to work for Jennifer. I can’t even blame her.
Jennifer’s at the front of the room, talking about the Redflags app – one of the apps the company has developed, and one I actually care about because it’s all about keeping women safe.
‘We have to be extremely careful with the personal information we collect and share,’ she says, her tone sharp and focused. ‘We’re dealing with sensitive data, and potential accusations…’
The app contains a message board where women can post about the men they have dated, who have given them serious red flags – like if they turned out to be married, if they were unpleasant to be around, or if they were potentially dangerous. It’s a great idea, it really is. The dating game is a seriously scary one to play.
Kelsey, who always has a knack for pushing the boundaries, leans forward.
‘We can get away with more on the message board,’ he says. ‘As long as people know they’re sharing information at their own risk.’
I scribble down his words, my handwriting becoming something that even I don’t recognise. Well, this isn’t part of my job, I haven’t had to write quickly since my A-level exams.
