Under His Influence

“Beers with the lads? Liam. A beautiful girl has the hots for you. Are you a man or a eunuch?”

“She really fancies me?”

“Really. I promise.”

“Okay. I’ll call you back.” Liam licked his fingertips and adjusted the gelled spiky bits on top of his head, fiddled with his tie and stood to his full lanky length, opting for a casual saunter on the way to Anna’s desk.

“What’s up, foxy?” he opened, leaning against her divider with an elbow draped across the top, smirking down at her in a way he hoped might be smouldering.

“Oh, hi, Liam. Just knuckling down to that thing we quaintly call work. Is it coffee time already?” She looked vaguely at the wall clock.

“Not coffee time. But time for…something else. Not coffee.” Liam coughed. He needed to fine-tune his chat-up techniques. Usually girls propositioned him—this was hard work.

“A smoothie, maybe? It’s quite warm today. But I don’t think it’s coffee time yet—it’s only half past ten.”

“Help me out here, Anna.”

This is the bit where the lightbulb pings and you blush and start twirling hair round your finger and all those signs they tell you to look out for in the ‘Does She Fancy You?’ columns.

“Do you like me?” he asked.

“Of course I like you. You’re my friend, aren’t you?”

“Ah. Just my friend?”

Anna laughed. Not the reaction he was looking for. “Umm, I don’t understand the question, I’m afraid.”

“Okay, try this one.” Why couldn’t he control his breathing? She’d think he was some kind of pervert in a dirty mac at this rate. “Will you come and see the Kaiser Chiefs with me tonight?”

“Liam! Have you been let down?”

“No, no, I haven’t, I just…well, I was hoping that you…might…”

“You are…asking me out? On a date?”

“Yeah.” He nodded vigorously. “A date. Yeah.”

“Oh my God.” Anna covered her mouth with a hand for a moment. Liam couldn’t help looking down at himself, checking for horns or some horrifying disfigurement he’d never noticed until today. “Liam, I’m so sorry, but I’m…not single. I’m…taken.”

Liam went from wanting to fall to his knees and shout “Hallelujah!” at finally being understood to crestfallen in one moment. The way she said “taken,” as if she was biting into a deliciously gooey cream cake, made it clear that he stood less chance than an ice pop in a blast furnace. He slumped, staring disconsolately at her console.

“Oh. Right. Well, thanks anyway. I’ll…ask someone else.”

All the same, he thought hopefully, preparing to take tail-between-legs flight, perhaps Mimi would still let him have those tickets. Perhaps she would come with him—she wasn’t a bad sort herself. Great legs. Nice rack too.

“Okay. And Liam.” Her voice, all gentle and soppy, made him obscurely irritated. “Thank you so much for asking…you know…if it had been this time last week…I’d have said yes.” He grimaced into her sad smile and gave her a stiff nod before making a break for his phone.

“Well?” Mimi knew it was him before he had the opportunity to announce himself.

“No. The answer’s no.”

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Just no? Did she give you any hope?”

“Not really. Said she was ‘taken.’” Liam mimicked her breathy tone.

“Bugger. Did you play your hand properly? Really sell yourself? Did you tell her about the tickets?”

“Yes. I told her all that. I thought you said she fancied me.”