“A few,” I admit coyly.
He seems impressed. “What do you think?”
“Are you still planning on writing a book?”
He looks surprised at my question. “I told you about that?”
“A long time ago.”
He nods. “Right. Yes, like a lot of journalists, I’m working on my first novel.”
“You’re writing fiction. Huh.” I pause, before admitting, “I always thought you’d write nonfiction, some kind of big exposé or something.”
He sighs at my assumption. “Because I’m so serious and boring.”
“No,” I say. “You told me you wanted to use your journalism to do something good. To give people a voice who might not have one.”
He gives the smallest hint of a smile, as though I’ve just proved him right about something.
“Why are you looking so smug?” I ask, frowning at him.
He laughs. “I’m not. I… never mind.”
Rakhee appears at my side. “Are you two still arguing about who won? The beer pong is about to start, so you can forget about the rounders and try to beat each other at this instead.”
“Excellent,” Ryan declares, unhooking his sunglasses from the front of his shirt and putting them on. “There’ll be no mistaking the winner in this one. Your team has no chance.”
He wanders off to the end of the table where Mimi is busy lining up the cups for the game, while I follow Rakhee to join my team at the other end, who are discussing tactics such as whether it’s worth bouncing the Ping-Pong ball first or if it’s easier just to aim for a clean throw into the cups.
I pretend to listen, but really I’m distracted by two things that Ryan said to me today that, when I think back on how he said them, make me feel strangely giddy.
One, he called my journalism brilliant and powerful.
And two, he declared he would be very happy to stand and listen to me rant after singing Mimi a happy birthday.
Which, when you think about it, is really a very sweet thing to say.
CHAPTER TEN
Uh-oh. I’ve only got one shoe.
I can’t believe I left the house without checking I hadbothshoes in my bag. Who only packsone shoe?! I knew I had the charity ball tonight and that I’d be going straight from work, sowhydidn’t I get myself organized last night?!
Now I’m in the toilet at work wearing the gorgeous new emerald-green plunge-neck dress I bought especially for the occasion, with my hair fabulously blow-dried, for which I stepped out at lunch, prompting a stink eye and sarcastic comment about work ethic from Cosmo, and all my makeup carefully reapplied…and only one shoe.
I don’t have time to go home before the event, so I’m going to have to hope that someone in the office has a spare pair of heels lying around that just so happen to be my size. Shoving my lone heel back in my bag, I exit the cubicle, check my appearance, and, satisfied except for the footwear situation, make my way through the open-plan office to the magazine corner.
“Wow!” Mimi gasps, swiveling in her office chair to take in my new dress as I approach her. “You lookhot.Thatdress!” She lowers her voice. “Your boobs look amazing.”
“It’s a push-up bra.”
“Liam is a lucky guy. Is he coming here first?”
“No, I said I’d meet him there. Hey, do you have any shoes I can borrow?”
“Sorry?”
“I only brought one shoe to wear tonight.”
