‘How is old Bill, then?’
‘About your age.’
‘How old am I?’
‘About as old as you’re going to get if you don’t cheer up.’
‘I’m just checking if you know as much about him as you know about me. When he’s here, does he live in London?’
‘No, Inverness.’
‘Urgh. That may as well be another continent. You like the idea of a long-distance relationship, do you?’
‘At the minute I do,’ I grate out through gritted teeth.
‘Anything new to report in his missives?’
‘Nothing much to report.’
‘Except when he’ll be back. Any firm dates yet?’
My gaze falls to my drinks as I mumble my answer, rubbing my lips together as though it’ll somehow help. ‘Three weeks.’
‘Lovely,’ Archer mutters in a flat tone. ‘Just in time for the warmer weather, then.’
We both turn from the food on the table, neither of us hungry anymore.
30
Archer
‘What’s this for?’Heather looks up from her laptop before glancing down at my gift.
‘Can’t I bring my girl a cupcake without there being an ulterior motive? It’s a sweet for my sweet.’ I push it a little closer, hoping she’ll eat it before our Monday morning meeting starts in fifteen minutes. A sugar hit always puts her in a better mood for at least an hour. Not that she’s usually tetchy, but Monday meetings aren’t enjoyable for anyone. It’s basically an hour spent discussing the same bullshit as last week’s Monday meeting, and there’s always some colossal tit who wants to bring up some ancient fuckwittery that no one else gives a monkey’s arsehole about. But that’s a regular Monday meeting for you.
‘It’s also a teeny apology.’ I tell her. ‘I know I was a bit of a bastard last night.’
‘Nothing I couldn’t take,’ she demurs, colour flooding her cheeks. And fuck, does she take it. She takes it so beautifully, even when it feels like time is slipping through my fingertips and I can almost sense him there, breathing down the back of my neck as I’m kissing hers.
Three weeks. Will it be enough to get her to come to her senses? For her to see what she means to me. Three weeks for her to realise her own feelings.
‘Are you going to eat up?’ I swallow over my fears as I prod the cake closer to her with my index finger.
‘You haven’t doctored it, have you? She asks with a bold glance.
‘I just added a little of my secret special sauce.’
And speaking of special, Heather picks up the cupcake, swiping her finger through the creamy icing. She brings it to her lips, her eyes falling closed as she sucks the buttercream from that delectable digit.
‘I maintainyouare in the wrong business.’
‘And I maintain there’s no secret where your sauce is concerned. Want a bite?’ she proffers the cupcake in my direction as I shake my head.
‘I’ll just watch, if you don’t mind.’ I pull up a seat from the corner of the room, positioning it so I’m facing her desk, because there’s nothing more fun than watching her put stuff into her mouth. Some things are more fun than others, if you know what I mean. ‘You could start a YouTube channel. I hear there’s money to be made from perverts who want to watch pretty girls eat.’
‘Becausethatwasn’t an awkward suggestion,’ she mutters, the thing balanced in front of her as she examines it. ‘But it’s strawberry, right?’ I nod. ‘Then I’m definitely not going to let you put me off.’
‘As if,’ As if it were even possible where sugar is concerned.
