“Who cares what people think. I thought you Americans weren’t supposed to give a toss about things like that. You sound entirely too British,” Hayley joked, dropping a tea bag into my cup and then filling it with hot water.
“Americans care about that stuff too. Though you’re right, I shouldn’t. I’ll just drive myself crazy.” I dumped a spoonful of sugar and a splash of milk into my cup. “It’s a good thing my mother doesn’t know how to operate a computer, let alone surf the internet. I’d never hear the end of it.”
Hayley held out an open sleeve of chocolate cookies. “Biscuit?”
I took one and popped it in my mouth.
“I think you need a quick pint after work. That’ll make you feel better,” Hayley stated, dunking a cookie—sorry, abiscuit—into her cup of tea.
“It’s not even eleven on Monday morning and you’re already talking about drinking. I don’t think I have the stamina to keep up with you,” I laughed.
“Oh, are we talking about going to the pub after work?” Charlie asked, appearing in the doorway of the breakroom.
“We are. Will the wife let you out past five thirty?” Hayley asked him.
“I’ll tell her I had a late meeting. With the way this week is going to be, I think a cheeky pint is just what the doctor ordered.”
“Did I hear talk of a cheeky pint?” Phil asked, coming in from the hallway and grabbing a biscuit from the sleeve in Hayley’s hand.
“Is this going to become a regular thing? If so I need to get a new liver on standby,” I said.
“We don’t have to drink—” Hayley began to say.
“But it’s strongly encouraged. Consider it a team building exercise. A way to make friends,” Charlie suggested.
“Plus it’s a great way to get to know each other,” Phil added with a nice smile.
“Okay,” I agreed. “Sounds great.”
“I say we duck out around four thirty. No one will know,” Hayley whispered conspiratorially so that only I could hear. “And then you can tell me all about Lucas Bradley before the rest of the tribe show up.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” I protested but Hayley waved away my comment, taking the cookies and leaving the breakroom before I could comment further.
“There’s nothing to tell about what?” Phil asked, pouring his own cup of tea. Charlie was hanging around, obviously not in a rush to go do actual work.
“Oh, um, nothing really…”
“The picture of you and Lucas Bradley?” Charlie asked, finding an old box of licorice in the cabinet and shoving a few in his mouth.
“A picture of you and Lucas Bradley?” Phil asked frowning.
“I really don’t want to talk about it. Nothing happened,” I lied. Because stuff happened. Crap, my face was getting hot again.
“There was a picture of Morgan with Lucas at the pub on Friday. It’s in a couple of the gossip rags. The Sun too I think.” Charlie picked at his teeth, which were now coated in black candy.
“Why were you with Lucas Bradley?” Phil asked nonchalantly, though his brow was furrowed in obvious consternation. Charlie didn’t seem very bothered about the whole thing, which surprised me given what a football fan girl he seemed to be.
“He was at the pub. I was at the pub. It was just a matter of being at the wrong place at the wrong time,” I replied breezily though my cheeks were on fire.
Phil either didn’t notice or was too polite to comment on my blushing cheeks. “Well, that’s no big deal then, is it? People just like a good gossip. Don’t let it get to you.”
“It would be easier if everyone didn’t know,” I said, appreciating how nice he was being about it.
Phil bumped my shoulder with his and gave me a smile. “It will be forgotten this time tomorrow. People have short attention spans when it comes to gossip.”
I wasn’t sure how true that was, but I was inclined to want to believe him.
“Bradley will be photographed with some fit model soon enough. Then you’ll be yesterday’s news,” Charlie piped up and Phil nodded.
