‘What’s his beef?’
‘Who knows what goes on in that man’s mind. All I know is that I run the social media accounts for a couple of clients who are in the online dating market. One of them is app based and the target market is a young demographic, and the other is an introduction agency aimed at professionals over forty.’ I set my lunch down beside me, turning bodily to face him, my left foot linked behind my right calf. ‘He’d made some rambling comments before this about my posts not having enough poetry.’
‘Poetry for the Tinder generation?’ His mouth lifts in a slow grin.
‘Exactly. What the hell does that look like?’
‘Roses are red, ducks go quack, take off your knickers, and get on your back.’
‘I wish I hadn’t asked.’ My expression scrunches as his shoulders begin to shake with an attack of the giggles. No, that’s not right. Men like him don’t giggle, do they?
‘Sorry. Sorry. Go on.’
I sigh and begin again. ‘That day, I don’t know if he’d fallen out with his therapist, or if someone peed in his bran flakes or something, but Emika, the intern—’
‘The young girl with a thing for Miku?’
‘Hence the aqua-coloured hair.’ I mime extravagant ponytails, flicking the air majestically. I’m mildly amused how he knows the name of the Japanese synthetic pop that spills from her headphones most of the day. The stuff that makes it difficult to give her instructions. ‘Her name was Emmy when she first started, but now she insists Emmy was short for Emika from the start. Which, according to HR, Emika must be short for Emilia, because that’s her name for official tax purposes.’
‘Jay said she’s a weeb. Is that the term?’
‘It’s a term but not a very pretty one, as I understand, but more derogative. Em is a non-Japanese person obsessed with all thing’s anime, which she tells me makes herotaku. And us normies, apparently.’
‘As clear as mud. Thanks.’
‘I know. She makes me feel ancient. But she’s so sweet and she has the most adorable lisp. I love the way she says my name. But she’s seriously switched on, too. Most days.’
‘Except the day she cocked up, forcing Haydn to suffer a bout of temporary insanity, which was manifested in an attack of ridiculousness against you?’ He leans back, sort of satisfied. ‘It kind of all makes sense now.’
At that oblique addendum, I find I’m now pullingmywhat the fuck face.
‘How could any of what that idiot said make sense?’ I splutter angrily.
‘Not him. What’s been said. In-house, I mean.’
‘What’s been said,’ I repeat, confused. And angry. I’m confangry, dammit!
‘Nothing worth repeating and not the sort of thing anyone with half a brain would take seriously.’
Ohmygod. When someone says it’s not serious, it’s usually terminal. He knows that Haydn said I’d never been a relationship, and I’m going to tell him his part in my plan and he’s going to laugh. He’s going to say I’m like the end pieces of a loaf of bread. The bits that everyone touches but nobody wants. Except no one touches me because I don’t let them get near.
Calm down. Deep breaths. Tears aren’t going to help anyone here.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Fine.’ I shrug off the hand currently touching my shoulder. ‘I-I’ve just got something in my eye.’ Solve two issues with one excuse because what kind of freak doesn’t like to be touched by strangers?
‘Hey.’ He slides me a raffish half smile. ‘I wasn’t about to jump you. For one thing, it’s too cold on this bench. For another, I don’t get involved with the women I work with.’
‘That’s not what I hear.’ Oops!
‘Okay, I’ll bite.’ He turns, mirroring my position, though he hooks his elbow over the back of the bench. We’re face to face and a little too close, but lines have been drawn, and I’m not backing down.
‘We all know why you came to work here. We’ve heard about the woman at your last agency, the one you drove to nervous exhaustion. How she ended up in hospital and you got the sack.’
I’d expected him to be offended or for him to rear back with indignation. What I didn’t expect was for him to draw closer still with a soft chuckle.
‘What’s so funny?’
