“It’s okay, it’s been a while now. I mean, I miss him all the time, but… you know.” He shrugs. “He was always the confident one.”
“You say that like every family has one.”
He chuckles. “Mine certainly does. You have any siblings?”
“Yes. I have an older sister, Juliet. We don’t really speak. She’s a lawyer here in the city, but I never see her. I try to be out of the house when she comes home to visit. Sorry, that sounds ungrateful when you’ve lost your brother,” I add guiltily.
“Don’t be silly. Families are complicated.” He hesitates. “I get the feeling you’re not close to your parents, either.”
I let out a long sigh. “An understatement.”
He grimaces. “I’m sorry. That can’t be easy.”
“It is what it is. You close to yours?”
“Yeah. Although they weren’t thrilled about me moving to London. They live in Manchester.”
“Who do you live with here, then?”
“I have a flatmate, a friend from uni.” He pauses. “He’s actually away this weekend, though, so I’ve got the place to myself.”
The atmosphere feels instantly charged. I have no idea if it’s just me. He likely said that as a throw-away comment;of coursehe just said that as a throwaway comment, Harper, you think he was saying it so that you would know you could go back to his tonight, no problem?! Don’t be stupid.
Although.
It’s kind of a weird throwaway comment, isn’t it? I didn’t ask if his housemate was there or not. He voluntarily offered that information. Was it a hint? But why would he do that? We don’t get on! We can barely have a conversation without it becoming a full-on argument! I think he’s an irritating know-it-all! He thinks I’m a vapid, reality-TV-show-loving, hideous mess of a person! There’sno wayhe wants to sleep with me!
Although.
He did hang around for ages after his interview to wait for me to invite me for a drink. We did have that moment in Greenwich. And we’re currently having a very pleasant conversation without any arguing whatsoever, so it’s not like we’realwaysat each other’s throats. Maybe we do get on after all. Maybe there’s some kind of… spark here.
I feel overly excited and terrifyingly nervous at the same time.
My hands are getting all sweaty.
You know what I blame?
Hiseyes. They’re earnest and gentle and piercing, all at the same time. How does he get away with them? They don’t belong to someone like him, they belong to Claudia Schiffer! He has no right to have such eyes!
“Are you okay?” Ryan asks suddenly. “You look… vexed.”
“Me? I’m fine! Absolutely fine,” I repeat, picking up my glass and draining it. “I’m going to go wee.”
I hop off my stool and scurry away from him toward the loo, instantly regretting saying the word “wee” in front of him. When I finish washing my hands, I lean on the basin to stare at myreflection. Thankfully, none of my makeup has smudged (yet). I’m glad I took particular care over my appearance for my interview today.
“Sleeping with him would be a bad idea,” I tell my reflection.
“Sex is never a bad idea!” replies a drunken voice from another cubicle, giving me a fright. I dash out of the toilets, absolutely mortified. Thank god whoever it is didn’t see me come into the bathroom and won’t be able to identify me in the pub.
As I make my way back over to Ryan, he glances up from his phone and smiles at me. It’s that secretive one he does sometimes, like he knows something I don’t. It usually annoys me in the office, but now it brings me to a swift realization.
It’s like the phantom girl in the cubicle said: sex is never a bad idea.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ryan and I appear to have formed a truce.
When you go through something as momentous as delivering a baby in the back of a London cab together, a bond inevitably forms, and on Monday morning when I arrive at the office, he looks up from his desk as I approach and smiles. I smile back.
