‘Hello, HR. Good Christmas?’
I nod. ‘It was nice. You?’
‘Sure. I’m one of those wholesome family guys, so yeah. I had a great time.’
I roll my eyes softly, shake my head.
‘Fancy a drink?’ he says. ‘Drown our sorrows. January blues and all that.’
I shove my hands into my pockets, tighten my body against the cold.
‘Come on. Let me tempt you to a glass of single-vineyard shiraz.’
‘You say that like you think I might know the first thing about wine.’
‘Well,’ he says, levelling his eyes to mine, ‘I could teach you.’
I resist a smile. ‘Thanks, but I’d better get home.’
‘You have plans?’
‘Sort of.’ This is true: I was going to add watercolour tonight to a bunch of line drawings I’ve been working on for my art class. I signed up to it after leaving Josh. In the wake of walking out, I was craving a way to help occupy my mind. To channel some of my messier feelings into something at least a little beautiful.
Lawrence keeps a respectable distance, though in the foggy car park lamplight his gaze all but pins me down. ‘So, in other words, you have nothing on.’
I decide I should probably spell it out to him. ‘I don’t think us going for a drink would be appropriate.’
Lawrence salutes me softly. ‘Aye-aye, Captain Sensible.’
‘I have to be sensible,’ I say, my breath turning milky in the mildewed air.
‘Nobodyhasto be sensible.’
‘We work together.’
Lawrence hesitates, then feigns a sudden pain, clutching his chest. A pantomime gesture so ridiculous, I end up biting back a laugh.
‘Come on, HR. I think we’ve had, what, like two meetings together ever? We work in entirely separate functions. Take it from me, I try to stay out of personnel issues as much as humanly possible. Unless they come to me, of course.’ Then he reaches out and, ever-so-gently, tugs on one end of my scarf. It is years old, the colour of cobalt, a gift from my dad on my fourteenth birthday. He murmurs, ‘Love this, by the way. It suits you.’
In the end, I decide that perhaps I’m overthinking things. So what if Lawrence and I do end up kissing, or even having a fling? It would only ever be that – a bit of fun. Lawrence is hardly the kind of guy you’d introduce to your dad, or your friends. And maybe that’s exactly what I need right now.
So eventually I relent, agree to a drink.
By my side in the bar, he looks – annoyingly – very handsome. Shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, collar open, dark hair just so. His jawline and profile are cut-yourself sharp, his brogues so shiny they actually glint. He fits in well here, in this moody andclassy cavern of dark wood and polished brass, surrounded by near-silent serving staff and the watery tinkle of piano music.
‘So, Rachel. The last time we were in the same boardroom, I could have sworn you were wearing a wedding ring.’
‘What, in one of those two meetings we’ve had together?’
‘Yeah. One of those,’ he says, mouth twitching.
‘You notice things like that, do you?’
‘Not always,’ he says, holding my gaze. His playful expression becomes sincere, his green eyes watchful. The devilish glimmer is gone.
This catches me off-guard. I’d been expecting – no, wanting, actually – to come here and indulge in a bit of surface-level flirting. To have a nice time and perhaps get tipsy and forget everything else. I certainly hadn’t planned to discuss Josh, who I definitely don’t want to think about right now.
I tilt my head. ‘Why do you want to know?’
