Incapable (Love Triumphs 3)

“That’s just it. I don’t want you to waste time worrying about me. You don’t have to be nice to me, or win me over, or be interested in me.”

That’d come out in a hot rush. “Why not?”

“Because I’m not interested in you.”

And that was ice-truck killer cold. He sat back. That told him. He could play this off as a misunderstanding but that tasted like too much effort. “Right. I wish that was different.”

“Why?”

Now she wanted to play twenty questions. “Because I’m not seeing anyone and I find you interesting.”

“I’m not.”

“Everyone is interesting.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“You have a head full of corkscrew curls and they’re brown like your eyes. You smell of vanilla strawberries, like those wild freesias that sprout up every spring in yellows and purples. I don’t know if it’s your shampoo, the soap you use, or perfume, but I don’t think it’s any of those things. I think it’s you.” He paused; she could quite easily walk away and he’d be talking to himself.

“You never got to have a kitten and I wonder why you missed out. You lost your parents while you were still young. You’re still young. You’ve lived in England long enough to pick up the trace of an accent but not entirely lose your natural one. Your favourite colour is green.” He heard a noisy inhale. Yes, she was still there, still listening.

“Green is all about the outdoors for me, and about renewal. I don’t know if that’s what you’re doing by moving home, but I’d like to. You have this hesitancy about you. I hear it in your voice. I think you’re sad about something. I wonder why you feel like you have to hide who you are. You’re a good engineer and a nice person, Georgia. I move around a lot for work. The women I don’t scare away mostly want to mother me or take advantage of me. You haven’t tried to do either and I like that. I’m sorry about kissing your hand, I came on too strong. I was trying to get to know you, but if that’s too much for you, then I won’t bother you again.”

He took a breath. Her shadow grew length as she stood up. “I think that would be best.”

Fuck. He stood up too, but misjudged the placement of the table, getting his foot caught in its leg. He lurched forwards, his shin hit the glass edge, their lunch stuff bounced, slopping and sliding, and his hands shot out in front. They met hers. She steadied him, one hand under his forearm. “Thank you.”

“Please don’t thank me.”

He gripped the hand he still had in his. “Please don’t shut me out.”

But she was going to. She removed her hand from his grasp and moved away and the only conversation they had the rest of the session might’ve been scripted by machines and spoken by robots, for all the warmth it had.

8: Go Fish

Day three of the project sent to send her spare and Georgia asked Lauren to show Damon into Studio B when he arrived. When she knew he was settled in the iso booth and she could legitimately hide behind the job and not have to deal with the man, she went to the control room.

There was a goldfish swimming in a plastic bag sitting on the desk.

In the booth, Damon had his head down, earpiece in, his eyes closed. He was memorising copy. The goldfish wasn’t gold, but spotted orange, black and white. It had a fantail that was the same length as its sleek body and wafted about in the water. It had black and white speckled fins and beady eyes. It waved its filmy, partly transparent fins and moved its mouth at her.

She looked up and Damon was looking back at her as though he knew she was there. She’d been one step off evil to him yesterday and he’d bought her a fish. Her eyes burned and she rubbed at them. She was going to tear up over a stupid fish in a plastic bag; over a man who’d taken her never having a pet comment to heart and hadn’t stupidly overcomplicated it by presenting a kitten. He’d meant this as gesture of something, she simply wasn’t sure what, especially as it really was her turn to apologise.

She toggled the intercom. He heard it and got a comment out first. “Her name is Fluffy.”

“You know how to sex a goldfish?” She covered her mouth with her hand. That traitor mouth which should’ve said thank you, that was very kind of you, I’m ready to record when you are. Instead she’d said the word sex to a man who looked like, well, weight loss hell in a chocolate box, he looked like sex.

“My powers of perception extend to all creatures great and small in the animal kingdom.” He wasn’t exactly smiling, but there was dimple.

“It’s a very nice fish.”

“For someone who doesn’t like seafood.”

“I don’t mind it when I don’t have to eat it.”

“Fluffy.”

“Why Fluffy?”