Luke stands as I approach the table, though wisely senses I’m in no mood for a hug.
‘I’m so glad you came,’ he says pushing a large glass of white wine my way. A pint of lager stands in front of him.
‘Like I said, I can’t stay long.’ I sit and busy myself with my purse so as not to look at him. It looks like I can manage to muster anger at someone. ‘What is it you wanted to talk about?’ I bring the glass to my mouth for a sip. It tastes metallic, but it’s not the wine, it’s me. Everything tastes wrong lately. Feels wrong, too.
‘About the other day, before you rushed off, I wanted to apologise. I was wrong to say those things. I’d had a few beers, and that’s a crap excuse, I know, but I was angry. I didn’t mean to make it sound as though I wasn’t happy for you.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I murmur, my gaze sliding to a nearby table of girls, at least one of which seems to be interested in Luke. I narrow my eyes in their direction, sure I recognise one or two of them.
‘I was trying to be happy for you.’ As he says this, he strokes the condensation from his glass with his thumb, his eyes captivated by the motion. ‘I suppose I was jealous. Angry, too. Angry at the world. Anna and I are never going to be anything to each other. And I fucked up my chance with you.’
‘What’s done is done,’ I offer lamely, and I wasn’t going to do this, but what the fuck. ‘Beckett told me Mark had no intention of investing in E-Volve.’
‘What?’ Luke’s head comes up, his gaze hitting mine hard. ‘How would he know that?’
‘Because Mark told him, apparently.’
‘Well, I know nothing about that,’ he blusters, raking a hand through his hair. ‘Honestly, Ols. My part was over as soon as I got you in through the door. I don’t even work there anymore. And that’s Beckett’s fault.’ That sounds like deflecting to me. ‘He hasn’t been in the office lately, I heard.’
‘You still keep in contact with the office?’ I swallow thickly. Does he know about us? Beckett has no incentive to keep things secret, but on the other hand, he isn’t the gossiping kind. Or even the sharing kind. And he’s definitely not the fishing kind, like the man in front of me.
‘Yeah, I do. I made good friends at JBW. I’d worked there since leaving uni, after all. But my new job is pretty cool, too,’ he adds a touch defensively.
‘That’s good. I’m happy for you.’ And I’ll be even happier for this afternoon to be over.
‘I know it’s not like senior partners are in the office nine to five anyway. Mark never was,’ he adds with an unimpressed snort, he reaches for his pint, taking a deep drink, somehow leaving a foamy white trail under his nose. ‘But Beckett’s apparently there even less than him.’
‘But he’s still there?’ I hate how this comes out as a question and not an answer. Hate that I’m desperate for information.
‘Yeah, I just wondered what’s going on with him.’
Me and you. ‘You could always ask him,’ I reply instead.
‘Ask the bloke who fired me?’
‘I thought you said you got a golden handshake?’ Or a fuck off one, as he’d called it.
‘I did, but he still got rid of me,’ he answers defensively. ‘I loved working at JBW—I didn’t want to leave.’
‘So why did he make you?’ Why indeed.
‘Because of Mark. He had it in for me.’
Or maybe because Beckett was right. Maybe Luke is a manipulator, too. A narcissist? I can’t see it. But did he have a hand in any of the other stuff? And do I really care right now? What I do care for is a trip to the bathroom. Too much coffee and my bladder is threatening a revolt.
‘Do you want another drink?’ I ask as I stand.
‘Yeah, cheers. That’ be great.’
‘I’ll be right back.’
I’m in the bathroom stall when I hear the outer door swing open, the noise of the bar carrying in then shutting off again. Heels totter and girls giggle, but I’m not really paying attention. I’m digging in the bottom of my bag for a tampon because the universe is picking on me.
‘Where did you disappear to?’ I still at the sound of her voice. I know this voice. This is the squeaky deep-throater from the speed dating night. What’s her name again? ‘You didn’t look to score, did you?’ That’s it—the incongruously named Prudence!
‘It depends what you mean by score,’ the second voice answers smugly.
‘Like, as in charlie.’ Jesus, does everyone in London do cocaine?
