A prim-looking tourist at the next table sat up in shock, as if she’d just overheard the start of some satanic ritual.
‘Are you planning to sleep with him?’
‘Oh my God, can wenot?’
‘I’m only pushing you on this because I care – because of everything you told me about Jack back in January. I just hope you know what you’re doing.’
‘I’m thirty years old, Greg. And I know I look like I belong in period costume, but I’m not the naive ingénue you seem to think I am. Of course I know what I’m doing.’
‘Forgive me, darl, but didn’t your last boyfriend plan out some sort of Stepford Wife future for you, without you even noticing? Frankly, I’m not convinced you’re all that great at interpreting blokes’ intentions.’
Greg was joking with her, but his words still stung. Rachel felt glad she hadn’t told him about Laurence’spost-break-up behaviour. Her failure to see his meltdown coming was hardly an endorsement of her judgement.
‘I’m doing just fine, thank you,’ she said, then sucked what remained of her passion fruit tea up her straw. Petulant, she plonked the empty plastic cup down on the table – as ifitwere somehow responsible for her snit.
‘Sure you are,’ Greg said, folding his arms and smiling at her sardonically.
‘For your information,’ Rachel said, her temper flaring, ‘I’m actually seeing someone.’
Bollocks. What had she saidthatfor?
‘Really?’ Greg asked, his tawny eyes wide with surprise. ‘Who? Since when?’
Shit, shit, shiiiiiiiiit.
‘Nobody you know, and not for very long. But he’s nice. He’sgood. And Jack knows.’
Rachel could feel herself starting to sweat. Why was she doing this? Letting Jack think she was attached was one thing, but actually telling Greg a bare-faced lie? That was something else.
‘Well. Based on how he’s acting, I’m not sure Jack really cares,’ Greg said, his brows knitting. ‘He’s going to make a play for you sooner or later, so you’d better decide on an answer to that question you evaded before: Are you planning to sleep with him?’
Rachel winced, but didn’t answer.
‘Personally, I’m not much for the “all’s fair in love and war” approach,’ Greg continued. ‘I think it kind of sucks to pursue someone you know isn’t free. I’m more a “do as you would be done by” kind of guy.’
‘Hmm,’ Rachel muttered, still reeling from her own recklessness. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
‘Do,’ Greg said, seeming satisfied. ‘Now. Shall we order some of that Japanese cheesecake for dessert? I’ll split one with you.’
‘Okay.’ She nodded. ‘But only if we can talk about something else. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but … I think I miss those conversations we used to have about vegetables.’
Someone – Rachel suspected Greg – had decided that a work night out was necessary. It was planned for Friday night, the day after his cross-examination of her at the noodle bar, and she was seriously tempted to swerve it.
The last time she and Jack had been in a pub together, he’d told her he was getting divorced and almost given her heart failure by kissing her goodnight. She didn’t want to think about how things might go now that he was openly flirting with her. For all her protestations, Greg was right: Jackwaschasing her, and he was less discreet about it by the day. Worse, there was a powerful part of her that wanted to be caught.
‘Don’t even think about piking out,’ Greg said when Rachel bumped into him in the kitchen. ‘You’re coming. This is a whole-agency event. There are people coming down from Manchester to celebrate the start of the new financial year – the first with us as part of Mountaintop. It’s supposed to be an opportunity for bonding, hence the sexy location and hefty bar budget. Not turning up will be a very bad look.’
Rachel groaned. ‘I hate this kind of thing, you know I do. And I have a dentist appointment right after work …’
‘So go. Have your teeth cleaned and come back into town,’ Greg said briskly. ‘Unless you end up having emergency root canal – and I’ll want to see areceiptfor that – I’ll expect you in the bar by eight o’clock.’
Almost to her annoyance, Rachel’s check-up and session with the hygienist went smoothly. By 6.15 she was on her way back to the flat to get changed – resigned to spending the night in a state of high stress, and resolved not to put away too much booze.
She squeezed into a black stretchy minidress and pulled on a pair of sheer black tights with a polka-dot pattern. It was an unusually bold look for her.Toobold, perhaps?
Not if she kept her hair and make-up simple, Rachel decided – and she would, because she didn’t have time to faff with them. She unwound her hair from the messy bun she’d shoved it into this morning, tipped her head upside down and blasted it with texturising spray.
When she was right side up again, Rachel realised Anna was lurking in her bedroom doorway.
