‘Thirty-two. Two years your senior,’ he says.
‘How did you know that I’m thirty?’
‘You had a birthday countdown going in the office, Nina,’ he reminds me.
‘Oh yes, I did do that.’
‘And then you invited everyone out for drinks, except me.’
I wince. ‘On second thoughts, that might have been a little small-minded of me. Even though you insisted on coming anyway. Clearly not a man to be overly concerned by such things as a guest list.’
He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. ‘Kat invited me. Said it must have been an oversight on your part. And I did bring a gift.’
This is true. Callum turned up with a small, beautifully wrapped parcel. I’d opened it when I got home. Inside the box was a softleather keyring with my initials on it. I remember turning it over in my hands, quite drunk by that point, and really surprised that the man who hated my guts had bought me such a thoughtful gift. Had he been trying to make amends way back when?
‘I’ve brought it with me,’ I say, suddenly remembering.
‘You have?’
‘It’s in my bag. It’s taken me ages to use it because I felt so conflicted. I loved it and I hated you.’
‘So what made you pack it?’
‘The old one did this to me,’ I say, holding up the cut on my thumb.
He takes it in his hand, brows furrowed as he surveys the damage.
‘It was a gift from my ex,’ I explain. ‘A plastic strawberry-shaped keyring which was chipped and tatty. When I picked up my keys this morning, this happened. I put yours on instinctively.’
‘No more plastic tat for you,’ he says, a small smile playing on his lips.
In fear of getting fully distracted by said lips and having us thrown off the flight, I make a show of reading the safety manual.
‘Look,’ I say, gesturing towards the manual. ‘I am learning and growing.’
He nods his approval.
‘Much better, Moss.’
‘Do you think the keyring is our key out of this?’ I ask. ‘You bought it months ago, so does that mean you had the answer all along?’
‘And how would you feel about that?’
‘Deeply annoyed.’ I grin.
He arches an eyebrow. ‘Thought so. But no, I don’t think it’s the keyring.’
‘The salmon sperm moisturizer, then?’ I suggest, showing him my new buy.
He gives me the cutest look, which turns into a dazzling smile.
‘I’m also going for a no on that one,’ he says. ‘I’m not sure any of this stuff is the key out of here. Maybe we just need to feel happy that we’re here and we’re in this together.’
‘And there’s a long flight to fill,’ I purr, staring at his mouth again.
‘As much as I would love to recreate Monday Five—’ he’s saying.
I squawk. ‘Have you come up with a system for naming all your Mondays, too?’
