‘31C,’ Callum looks at his. ‘Same row, but it looks like someone will be sitting in between us.’
‘Poor soul. Let’s hope they’re more fun than you are.’
‘Please. I’m a lot of fun.’
‘Doubt it.’
Callum shakes his head like he’s disappointed in me.
I mentally slap myself in the face. If I’ve got to endure this for the next week then I’m going to have to up my smart comebacks. Being so thoroughly discombobulated does not help. Why does he bring out the worst in me? Just look at him, standing by the moisturizers like a normal human being in his handsome travel outfit. Nobody knows that under his glossy exterior lies the devil incarnate, like Voldemort in disguise. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing and only I can see it.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ he asks, startling me out of my contemplation.
‘Just surprised to see you wearing clothes, I guess.’
‘Did you expect me to come naked, Moss?’ There goes that eyebrow again.
‘I meantnormalclothes,’ I bluster. ‘Not work clothes. I’m surprised to see you wearing normal clothes.’
Yes, that’s good, Nina.
Maybe say it one more time for emphasis?
Callum is watching me with a deeply amused look. His eyes track up and down my body which for some reason makes my fingers tingle.
‘We match,’ he says eventually. ‘Except you’re all in black.’
‘That’s right,’ I compose myself. ‘I came dressed for your funeral.’
Ha! That’s much better, I tell myself.
‘Very dark. And on that delightful note, I’ll leave you browsing the sperm moisturizers.’ He gestures to the products.
‘Have a great day now!’ I call after him.
‘No,youhave a great day.’ He turns and waves.
Jackass.
This will not do. Surely it won’t be long until Cody arrive and we can’t be bickering when they do, it will look deeply unprofessional and I refuse to let Callum Bang’s snarky comments ruin this gig for me before we’ve even taken off. We got off on the wrong foot, that’s all. If I could go back and do it all over again, I’d be waiting for Callum at the airport café, sitting in front of my laptop while oozing professionalism, not perusing unmentionable moisturizers. Alas, I’ll just have to shake it off and move forward.
I march with purpose over to WHSmith where I stock up on magazines and a book for the journey, before spotting that the gate’s been called. A bolt of nervous energy flows through me. This is it!
Stashing the new purchases into my massive bag, I sling it back over my shoulder and hop on the travelator all the way to the gate. How much fun are these walking pavements?! I’m marching along it, past the myriad adverts for watches, when I spot Callum up ahead, not on the travelator. Can’t say I’m surprised. Why take the fun route when you can be boring, eh Callum? I glide by him and wave, feeling ridiculously triumphant. Turns out Iama small child sometimes, and I’m okay with that.
When he sees me he frowns, and the next thing I know, he’s broken out into a run to try and catch up. I face forwards again, picking up into a jog because although I am a grown woman, I will not be beaten in this apparent race with Callum Bang.
The departure gate is up ahead. I will get there first. A brief look back and dear lord, he’s fast! I suddenly remember that he often uses his lunch break to get out for a run and curse myself. I can’t compete with an actual runner, can I? Plus, the rationalpart of my brain tells me it’s not a good idea to break into a sweat moments before a full twenty-four hours of travel, with no prospect of a shower.
Be sensible, Nina! Conserve energy! This lightweight cotton bra will not support an unexpected cardio session!
And yet here I am, actively racing on the travelator towards the gate. He’s still on static ground but now he’s ahead of me. This will not do! Thankfully, Callum’s trajectory is thwarted by a rowdy hen party meandering towards the gate in front of him. I observe with unbridled glee as he has to slow down to a stop, no space to get past the women dressed in matching T-shirts. I feel practically giddy as Callum gets embroiled in the sprawling group and I glide past him once again.
The moving walkway up ahead of me is totally clear. I slow down, there’s no need to run now, and as I step off right by the correct gate, I turn to give him my best ‘sorry you lost’ face.
He shakes his head at me before he’s enveloped by the hens. The bride-to-be is running her hands down his torso and he looks slightly terrified. I chuckle to myself as I watch him try to politely extract himself from her clutches and finally join me at the gate.
‘Better luck next time,’ I say.
