“Good.” I can almost hear him scowling, trying to think of more to say to me, more pointless digs, but mercifully he hangs up instead. I tut and put my phone back, watching the foamy waves again to soothe my mood after speaking to that officious prick.
“Hey,” a voice says a few feet behind me, and I turn to see my friend, Tim Stewart, who recommended Wishbone Tattoos to me. He catches up to me, carrying a half eaten baguette anda carrier bag. That man always eats on the hoof, like he doesn’t have time to sit still.
“Hello!” Tim, our IT helpdesk manager, was one of the first friends I made at work when I moved here last year. He has such kind eyes, and is the ‘gettable’ sort of attractive, like a hot Average Joe. But we have friend chemistry without even a hint of sexual tension, so instead of the horizontal mambo, we just buy each other elaborate coffees and commiserate over which of our colleagues we hate the most.My pick is Mitchell, of course. Tim’s is Peter, one of the lecturers in the School of Economics, who happens to be his twin sister’s boyfriend. It’s a valid choice; Peterisinsufferable.
“Guess what - fixed your printer.”
“Youlifesaver. Did you have to call in the exorcists?”
He laughs. “Bloody nearly. I’ll put you in for a new one sooner rather than later.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” His friendly face is very welcome after Mitchell’s buzzkilling phonecall. “So, how did it go with Dean?”
I smile. That’s more like it; I’m happy to talk abouthim. “Really well. I was so impressed, and I’ve got my first appointment next week.” I think the way I grin at my shoes gives something away, because when I look back at him, he looks so amused. “What? It’ll be fun to learn another language.” That much is true; languages are my soulmate, and I’m genuinely looking forward to getting started on ASL. “And you were right: his work is exemplary. Don’t think there’s a more perfect artist out there for what I want.”
“Yeah, he’s awesome.Andhe’s one of Sadie’s best friends, so I happen to know for a fact he’s good people.” His eyes look at me teasingly.
I giggle. “What’s that look for?” I’m not sure I mind being rumbled about this.
He shakes his head with a laugh. “I’m saying nothing.”
I shake my head mock-sternly, but I can’t stop smiling. I nod to his paper carrier bag, which is from a local toy shop. “Moving swiftly on…what did you get?”
“It’s a sea monkeys kit.” He shrugs. “Eleanor’s friend got some, and of course she wants to give them a whirl, too. Honestly, though, better these than the time she decided to keep stick insects.” He shudders comically. Eleanor is his daughter. “They just… Would. Not. Stop.Breeding. Couldn’t give enough of them away.”
“Yikes.” Judging from the photos he’s showed me, his daughter is about ten years old or so. Apparently, Tim was a young father. Extremely young, as in teenaged. I think back to the way my life was when I was ten. Aptitude tests. Exams. Television crews… I hope her life is a little more settled and calm than mine was. With Tim as her dad, it almost certainly is. I can’t imagine he’d be anything but a loving and attentive father who lets his kid be a kid. Case in point, spending his lunch hour seeking out the sea monkeys she wants. And I doubt very much he’ll expect her to write an essay on the little critters’ habits and life cycle.
I’m really not as bitter as I sound, but I do wish I’d had more time tobea child back when Iwasone, with just a little more frivolous fun and slightly less obsessive focus on my educational stimulation. But children like me always get treated differently. It’s inevitable. It’s even understandable. And I was loved and looked after, which is all that truly matters.
I’m happy to listen as my friend tells me more about his daughter, and how she’s doing in school. He lights up when he talks about her, so if anything it’s a pleasure to pass the rest of the walk back with him.
I must buy him a bottle of wine to say thanks for the recommendation of Wishbone Tattoos.
If I end up taking Dean to bed, I’ll make it champagne.
CHAPTER TWO
Dean
Walking home with Eli and Em is usually a highlight of my day.
Usually.
But I’m going to be getting the third degree in three, two, one…
“So how come you offered after hours appointments to Liaden O’Brien?” And there it is. In the least surprising move ever, Emily’s gone straight for the jugular as Eli slings his arm around her.
“What?” Eli asks, looking from her to me. If his curiosity is piqued too, I might as well just give in. He knows I just don’t do out of hours, and I’m second guessing the decision myself. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to ensure I got to see the pretty lady again sooner, but maybe I should have just waited the eight weeks after all. It’s not like it would make any difference to anything.
I sigh, aiming for casual-verging-on-bored.It’s really nothing, I tell them.Her design is cool, that’s all. It fired up thecreative juices, you know? It’s gonna be an interesting one to do. Might even be a new photo for reception, if I pull it off well.
“Cool, man, what is it?” Eli asks.
She wants a fragment of the Rosetta Stone. Ever seen it? He shakes his head, so I whip out my cell and in seconds I’m showing him one of the images I’ve saved, which just happens to be right there when I opened my phone. I’ve been researching it obsessively between other appointments this afternoon, and I’ve just basically ratted on myself.
Em’s slow, knowing grin makes it clear I’m right.
