Mr. Park Lane (The Mister)

“How do you know him?”

“He’s my secretary’s brother.”

That seemed like a tenuous connection. Had he put up a poster at work or something? Wanted: Single man for a two-hour, strictly no-sex date with a frumpy doctor who at least doesn’t have a monobrow anymore.

“Have you even met him?”

“I insisted on seeing a photograph. He seems like a nice chap. Doesn’t live with his mother or, from what I can tell, torture animals in his spare time. You’re seeing him this Friday at seven thirty at Liliana’s.”

He was obviously excited. But there wasn’t one cell of my body that could muster up any kind of enthusiasm. I didn’t have the energy to make small talk with a stranger. “This Friday?”

“Yes, this Friday. So, who have you lined up for me?”

“Are we double dating?” That particular thought was horrifying. Being friends with Joshua was fine. Nice even. But it didn’t mean I didn’t think he was handsome. It didn’t mean I didn’t secretly hope the occasional flirtatious touch or grin was intentional. I didn’t want to have my inadequacies under a spotlight as I watched Joshua very intentionally flirt and charm the woman sitting next to me.

“No, I mean, we could if you wanted to.” He shrugged. “Could be fun. At least if you were there, I wouldn’t be bored.”

“Well, I’m glad I don’t bore you, but the woman I’ve lined up for you is not available on Friday. Unlucky for you, you’ll have to spend the evening without me.”

We stopped at some lights and he held my gaze with a grin. “Okay, so tell me, who is this woman?”

Truth be told, I’d not found anyone yet. But I would do. I’d just have to arrange it for Sunday. “I’m not telling you anything. But you better be nice to her. And no showing her your penis, like you promised.”

“You think I’m a closet flasher?”

“Who knows, Joshua. You and my brother were forever pulling down your shorts.”

“We were in the paddling pool. And we were, what, eleven?”

“Once a flasher, always a flasher.”

“I’m really not comfortable with you teasing me about being a sex offender, Hartford.” Joshua frowned, all mock hurt and seriousness.

I laughed and it seemed to be catching as he started to chuckle as well. “I take it back. I’m convinced you save your penis for private showings. But no sex is a rule, Joshua Luca. Let’s see if you can comply.”

We might only have a couple more months of friendship to look forward to, but I was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

Twelve

Joshua

I’d spent the entire week going through the Luca Brands pitch for Calmation. It was good, but something was missing. Maybe it was because I was used to luxury goods, but there was a lack of sparkle and originality about our approach that had me concerned. I didn’t want the Calmation campaign to be anything other than fantastic—for the sake of Luca Brands, but also because I wanted this campaign to reach as many parents as possible. The more people who saw it, the more children would be helped.

I leaned back on my dining chair and looked over my laptop at the cityscape, trying to garner inspiration. The team had looked at what was going on in the over-the-counter children’s drug market and essentially given Merdon more of what was already out there. I wanted something different. Something better. Something that proved they should appoint us because our experience was in luxury brands, and not despite it.

Even a long stint of Genius Time in the bath this evening hadn’t produced any breakthroughs. That couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Hartford hadn’t come home from her date with Tom. Her tardiness was bothering me. And it bothered me that it was bothering me. The two-hour mark had passed over an hour ago.

Why did I care if she stuck to the rules?

I kept telling myself it was because I wanted her advice about a tiny nugget of an idea I had about the Merdon pitch, which was true. And I wanted to see how she got on with Tom, because I was her friend, right?

After all, I was supposed to be coaching her through these dates. I’d promised.

Before she’d left, she’d tried on three outfits and given me a demonstration of how she looked standing up, walking, and sitting down in each one before I was able to give my final judgement. She looked good in all of them. But the pale blue top looked best with her skin tone, and the neckline showed off just the right amount of cleavage.

I’d suggested she wear the green.

And that bothered me the most. Why didn’t I want her to look her best for Tom? Yes, I found her attractive. Yes, my body seemed to have some kind of visceral reaction whenever she was too close. And that kiss? It had been spectacular. But none of that changed the fact I wasn’t a man who got serious with women. Hartford deserved better.