‘I texted you a few times,’ he says.
I fix my eyes on the doors. ‘I know.’
‘Are you feeling a little . . .weirdabout what happened on Friday night?’
Weird is one word. Horny is another.
All I can now think about is the slide of his tongue against mine. The feel of his triceps beneath my fingers. The warm wetness of his mouth on my neck. An unwelcome heaviness settles between my legs.
‘I am, yes.’
I keep my eyes firmly ahead until I can resist no longer.
‘Areyou?’ I ask.
‘Sure,’ he shrugs. ‘Butniceweird. You are one hell of a kisser, Darling . . .’
His eyelashes lower to my lips. My breath hovers somewhere in my chest. Oh my fucking hell.I want to kiss this man so badly. I want his hands on my behind again. The muscles of his chest pressed against my breasts. I want to tilt my face and relinquish myself so his tongue can move deeper and deeper into my mouth. I realise from the look on his face that something, if not identical, then certainly similar, is running through his head.
The doors open.
‘Ahoy there!’ says Giles, who shuffles in between us.
The presentation is taking place in our largest meeting room – in front of more than 100 people. I’ve never felt entirely comfortable with an audience of this size – too many flashbacks to being cast in the school play, as one of Miss Hannigan’sorphans inAnnie. But Zach looks so relaxed you’d think he was on vacation.
I slink to the back and take a seat next to a twenty-something bearded guy I recognise vaguely as being new in IT. He’s watching a trailer for the JapaneseGodzillaon his phone, looking very much as if this is the last place he wants to be.
I sit next to him and, recognising me as someone senior, he coughs and puts his phone away. I consider reassuring him that I too have been known to multitask during meetings. But he probably doesn’t want to know about my pelvic floor exercises, or that I had to stop when Rose pointed out I’d never entirely mastered the art of doing them without simultaneously pulling strange facial expressions.
Krishna is on first, for an introduction about the need to take time out of our day-to-day jobs and ‘future proof’ the business. This is followed by a session with some guy from a consultancy, presenting his research about ‘the viewer experience’, before we split off briefly for a break. Then it’s Zach’s turn – to deliver a talk called ‘Innovations in free ad-supported streaming TV’.
I already suspected he’d be polished, confident and slightly overfamiliar, because everyone in the LA office is. At the risk of sounding like a West End theatre reviewer, he is that – but also more. He’s engaging and funny. Whip-sharp and charismatic. And, above all, he has substance. Even the IT guy next to me – who during the first part of proceedings was unquestionably listening to a true crime podcast on his ear pods – is enthralled.
When he’s finished talking, he takes questions. The first, he works through with the same cool confidence as his presentation. But then someone from marketing puts his hand up and asks a question.
‘Don’t you think it would be better to focus less on what will be going on in this industry in the future and more on now?’
‘We need to focus onboth. Every business does, just as every industry does. Assuming you want a job in five years’ time?’
Zach fails to hide the fact that he considers it a stupid question and the guy blushes and sits back in his seat. Perhaps that’s another reason why ‘not everyone is a fan’, then.
I try to hold that thought for the rest of the day. To make it bigger in my mind than it possibly deserves. To tell myself that, he might be fanciable, hot and oozing charisma, but he’s arrogant too. Which is yet another reason – as if I needed one – to stay away from him. To push him right out of my mind. Immediately.
It proves to be easier said than done.
As I’m driving home that night, I am determined to keep all sexy thoughts, especially flashbacks – well and truly out of my mind. Except at one point when I click on Spotify. I press play and when ‘Wuthering Heights’ comes on, unable to listen to it one more time, I skip forward to the next Kate Bush song.
‘The Sensual World’.
I feel my spine prickle and consider moving on, before chastising myself. Come on, Lisa. You’re enough of a grown-up to listen toa songwithout letting your mind drift to places it shouldn’t be. I click on the indicator and drive as a dreamlike sound fills the car. The soft, swirling woodwind and breathless vocals make the hairs on my forearms stand on end. My imagination ignites. Her voice meanders to one particularly stirring line – something about slipping between breasts – and I’m forced to slam my hand on the off button. Then I turn down our street and see Leo with a group of friends, puffing on a vape.
Chapter 26
I spend a restless night tormenting myself about the way Zach looked in the lift, convinced in the cold, lonely hours between 3am to 5am that this cannot be normal at my age, HRT or not. Aren’t I supposed to be drying up, thinning out and starting to find the idea of sex repellent? Maybe if I spent more time focusing on being a Mother – capital M – then perhaps I wouldn’t be having this much trouble with my 15-year-old . . .
Even accounting for the dark places to where insomnia can lead your thoughts, I realise that if I were counselling a friend I’d say this was a harsh assessment; that my fancying Zach has nothing to do with what goes on at home. Part of me already knows that a woman can wear many hats in her life – Mother, Daughter, TV executive, Friend, Ex-wife (x2), PTA Communications Secretary – and suspects that adding, ‘Snogger of the Office Hottie’ to that list is neither here nor there.
But I’m not counsellingsomeone else– onlyme. And the gloves are off.
