This Man (This Man 1)

‘Liking monosyllables today, huh?’

‘Yes. ’

She sighs heavily down the phone. ‘Whatever. Have you asked Victoria and Gayboy if they’re up for Saturday night?’

‘No. I will, though. I’ve just got back from a very strange meeting. ’ I open my top drawer to grab a paperclip, noticing the calla lily squished down the side of my stapler.

‘Strange how?’ She’s intrigued.

‘I went to meet the developer of Lusso, well, one of them. He asked me to dinner. It was really uncomfortable. ’ I grab the lily and chuck it in the bin quickly.

She laughs down the phone at me. ‘How old is this one?’

I bristle at her insinuation. He’s much older than Jesse. How much older is unknown, but he’s definitely older. I’ll probably never know now, though. ‘Mid-forties I guess, but extremely handsome, in a Scandinavian kinda way. ’ I shrug to myself while guiding my mouse aimlessly around the screen. He’s nowhere near Jesse’s league, but he’s handsome, nonetheless.

‘You’re like a mature man magnet at the moment. Are you going?’

‘No!’ I screech. ‘Why would I?’

‘Why not?’ I can’t see her, but I know she has a questioning eyebrow arched.

‘No, I can’t, because I have a new rule…no mixing business with pleasure. ’

‘MOVE!’ she screams, making me jump at my desk. ‘Sorry, some prat just cut me up. No mixing business with pleasure, ah?’

‘Yes. Are you driving and talking on your mobile, Miss Matthews?’ I challenge her. I know Margo doesn’t have a hands free kit.

‘Yeah, I’d better beat feet. See you at home. And don’t forget to tell Gay boy and Victoria the plans for Saturday. ’

‘What are the plans?’ I blurt before she hangs up.

‘Get drunk, Baroque, eight o’clock. ’

Get drunk. Yes, that’s a very good plan.

I leave the office at six with Tom and Victoria. ‘Saturday night, Guys?’

Tom stops abruptly, dramatically putting his palms out with a shocked expression on his smooth, baby face.

‘Oh my God, yes! I brought the most amazing coral shirt at lunch time. It’s divine!’

Victoria giggles, slapping his arse to push him onwards. ‘Where are we going?’ she asks.

‘Baroque at eight. ’ I answer. ‘We’ll see where the night takes us. ’

‘I’m in!’ Victoria sings at me. ‘But no gay joints, Tom. It’s my turn to pull. ’ she grumbles

Tom frowns. ‘What about me?’

‘You’ve had your feed. It’s my turn,’ she spits, ‘Besides, what about the scientist?’

‘You know, science is actually very boring. ’ he grumbles.

We say our goodbyes at Green Park Station. I take Jubilee to Central, while Victoria and Tom hop on Piccadilly.

Chapter 17

‘Morning,’ I know I sound like a miserable cow, but I’m trying really hard not to be.