Normally she would have said it was perfect timing, but right now she was too stressed.
She stared at his profile, trying to read him. “I know you’re upset. Wehaveto talk. We can’t go home for Christmas with this atmosphere hanging over us.”
He said nothing but he put his hands on the wheel and she saw his knuckles whiten.
“Declan—”
“Yes. I’m upset. What did you expect?” He sounded tired. “It was my company Christmas party, Rosie. Everyone was there, with partners. Everyone except you. It was awkward.” He turned to look at her and it was obvious from the shadowsunder his eyes that his night had been as bad as hers. “People kept asking where you were.”
Guilt made her defensive. “I don’t believe that. I doubt they even noticed I wasn’t there.”
“They noticed. I had to say you were sick.”
“Why would you tell them I was sick?”
“Because I couldn’t exactly tell them that you didn’t want to spend an evening with them, could I?”
She’d had no idea he’d be this upset about it.
Her heart was pounding. She hadn’t realised he’d want her there. She genuinely hadn’t thought he’d care.
“But they don’t like me, Declan! When I joined you all for a drink last month none of them spoke to me. And it was the same the time before that.”
“That isn’t true.”
“It is true. They ignored me. And so did you. You all talked about some obscure computer programming thing all evening and I didn’t understand a word of it and certainly wasn’t able to contribute, so I sat there like a lemon all night.” And she’d felt stupid. Out of her depth. Miserably self-conscious. She’d imagined them all wondering what someone as brilliant as Declan was doing with someone like her. Even her clothing had been wrong, she’d known that the moment she’d walked into the room. She’d worn a sparkly mini dress and she’d felt pretty until she’d seen that they were all wearing jeans and hoodies. There had been a horrible moment where they’d all stared at her speechless, and then Declan had ushered her to an empty seat at the table and the moment had passed. But the humiliation of that evening had stayed with her, which was why she’d had no desire to put herself through it again.
Declan ran his hand through his hair. “We’ve all worked together a long time. We’re comfortable with each other. That’s all it was. It wasn’t about you.”
“But I was there! I was there and theydidn’t include me.Youdidn’t include me. I felt like some—some—appendage. Everyone was wondering why you and I were even together.”
“You’re imagining it.”
“Declan, I am not imagining it. One of them actually said to me ‘you’re not Declan’s usual type.’”
He frowned. “Who said that?”
“I don’t know. I’m trying to forget the whole evening frankly.”
“Probably Harry. Harry Fitch. He tends to say what he’s thinking. No filter.” He rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “I’m sorry if we got carried away—we’ve been working on this new project at work which is actually very exciting, and—”
“I know. It’s all you talk and think about.” And she hated the fact that she didn’t understand a word of it. He’d tried explaining it to her. He’d even used a pen and paper and drawn a diagram. But it had made no sense to her. Sometimes she wished she was more like Becky. Becky would have been able to join in. Becky spoke their language.
He glanced at her. “You could have tried harder too?”
It was so unfair she felt her eyes smart. “How? I don’t understand what you do, Declan. I don’t know enough about computer engineering to be able to join in your conversation. And maybe that makes me stupid—”
“You’re not stupid.” He frowned. “I have never said, or thought, that you were stupid.”
“Well, I felt stupid. And maybe I wouldn’t have felt that way if just one of the people in that group could have asked me something about myself. About whatIliked. Although that probably wouldn’t have helped because I’m guessing that ‘I make costumes for the ballet’ isn’t a great conversation starter in your world.” It took skill to do what she did, she reminded herself. Real skill. Just not a skill that any of his colleagues would appreciate if the look they’d given her dress was anything to go by.
He took a deep breath. “We need to stop this. We’re not getting anywhere.”
“We started it because you wanted to know why I didn’t go to your Christmas party. And I’m telling you why. My confidence couldn’t survive it. I didn’t want to spend another humiliating evening standing by myself in the corner like some wallflower feeling bad about myself.”
“This is all in your imagination, Rosie.”
“No, it really isn’t.”
