He smirks. “He has to realise what a fucking numpty twat he’s being.”
I bite my lip. “Hopefully he won’t notice the sarcasm.”
Ritchie laughs, clutching his belly. “If he doesn’t, he’s a sandwich short of a fucking picnic. The guy’s an arsehole. You really need to cool it with him. Do your job, date this hot doctor, and forget all about Devon Jackson. A guy like that isn’t worth it. I mean, come on, Andi. He makes you buy him condoms for fuck’s sake. What kind of man does that?”
I snort. “I know. He’s a wanker, and I’m done talking about him tonight. No mentioning his name again.”
Ritchie clinks his glass to my empty one. “I’ll drink to that.”
I’m shocked. As eight o’clock rolls around, neither my brother nor Devon has been to the flat. I’m even more shocked that neither one of them has contacted me.
The doorbell chimes, and I instantly inhale a deep breath. Nervous doesn’t even come close to describing the way I feel at this moment.
“Keep calm. You look smoking hot.”
I smile at Ritchie. “Thanks.”
I stay still for a moment … until Ritchie commands me to “answer the goddamned door.” I’m not sure why I’m so nervous. Tom’s a nice guy. I’ve spoken with him quite a few times since we bumped into each other a few weeks back.
My back straight, I walk toward the door. I take another deep breath, plaster a smile on my face, and swing it open. Tom’s standing there, smiling with a bunch of red roses in his arms. He looks good with his cropped black hair, soft brown eyes, and crooked smile. He’s dressed to impress in a navy shirt and dark beige trousers. The nurses at his hospital must be drooling over him, so why aren’t I?
His eyes travel up and down my body. “You look lovely, Andi.”
“Thank you,” I answer.
“I brought you these.” He hands me a mixed array of pink tulips, white daises, yellow sunflowers, and red roses.
“They’re beautiful. Come on in. I’m just going to get a vase for these. They smell lovely.”
Tom nods. I can feel his eyes on me as I disappear into the kitchen. I make quick work of getting a vase and filling it with water, placing the flowers inside. As I walk back out with them, I find Ritchie and Tom conversing.
“So, Tom, at what hospital do you work?”
“St. Jude’s.”
Ritchie nods with a smile. “Oh, so not that far from Andi’s work then.” When he gives me a cheeky look, I glare back at him.
“Yes, that’s how we met actually. We get coffee at the same Starbucks.” He glances at me. “I noticed Andi straight away, but I was always too nervous to approach her.”
Ritchie smirks, which usually means he has something up his sleeve. “Oh, you shouldn’t have worried about that. Andi only bites on occasion.”
“Ritchie!” I shout. I can’t believe he said that. I turn to a smiling Tom. “I’m sorry about my so-called friend.”
Tom chuckles. “That’s okay. I thought it was quite funny.”
Rolling my eyes, I grab my cardigan and handbag. “Are you ready?” I glare at Ritchie. “I suddenly want to leave.” Without waiting for a reply, Tom and I make our way out of the apartment.
“Have fun,” Ritchie shouts from behind me as I offer him a one-finger salute.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I made reservations at A Taste of India down on Mitcham High Street.”
As we make our way down the stairs, I shake my head. “No, not at all. Sounds great. ”
He smiles brightly. “I didn’t bring a car. We could call a cab, but it’s only a fifteen-minute walk.”
I’m not quite sure my feet will last in these heels, but I don’t want him to think I’m lazy. “A walk will be fine.”
Nodding, we stroll toward the restaurant, making small talk along the way. By the time we reach it, I’m freezing my tits off, and my feet feel like they’ve grown two sizes.
We walk up to the host. “Hi. My name’s Tom Bates. I made a reservation for two at eight o’clock.” We are forced to stand as we wait for him to look up the name. Meanwhile, all I want is to be able to sit down.
“Ah, yes,” he finally says, making me exhale. “You’re just over there.” He grabs two menus. “Follow me.”
I hope our table is near the front of the restaurant, but no. The host walks all the way to the back before placing the menus down.
“Thank you,” I say, eager to sit. I don’t even take off my coat first.
Tom chuckles a little. “Cold?”
I give him a half-hearted smile. “Something like that.” I don’t want to make him feel badly by telling him that the walk has nearly crippled me.
The waiter walks up. “Hello. What can I get you to drink?” he asks as Tom takes his coat off and settles into his seat.
Tom looks to me. “What is it you normally like?”
“Um,” I bite my lip, “is there any particular wine you like?”
“I don’t drink.” He states it so matter-of-factly, it almost sounds as if the idea is preposterous.
I look from Tom to the waiter. “I’ll have a glass of dry white wine, please.”
The waiter nods, then turns to Tom. “Just plain water for me.”
As the waiter walks away, I open the menu. “I normally have Chicken Tikka Masala. It’s a safe bet, so I always stick with it. What do you usually get?”
He looks up from his menu. “Normally, lentils. I’m a vegetarian, so lentils are the healthiest option.”
“Ah,” I respond—not really knowing what else to say.
“Here are your drinks.” The waiter places them on the table and takes out his pad. “Do you know what you would like to order?”
I order my usual option and Tom orders his lentils. Once the waiter writes everything down, he hurries off.
“So… How long have you been a doctor?”
Leaning forward and clasping his hands together on the table, Tom smiles. “I’m just in my first year, but I’ve been studying for what feels like my whole life. I don’t mind, though. I know I’ll have student loans to pay off for the next several years, but I’ll be rewarded in the end.”
I feel bad for him. It can’t be easy having debts hanging over your head for years on end. “I bet making sick people healthy again is rewarding in itself.”
He nods. “It is, but studying what certain things do to your body can put you off at times. I didn’t start out as a vegetarian, but learning that certain meats can give you heart disease and diabetes over time makes you see food in a different light.”
I think of what I just ordered. “But chicken’s okay, isn’t it? I hear white meats are normally healthy.”
“Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “Chicken has just as much artery-clogging fat as beef. Not to mention the risk of salmonella poisoning.” When my eyes widen, he smirks. “But don’t let me put you off.” He laughs, but he’s already managed to do the job.
I begin to reflect on whether going out with a virtual stranger was a good idea. In the coffeehouse, he seemed nice. I wonder for a moment if he’s used to dating because he seems to be a little out of touch when it comes to it. I want to ask, but don’t want to seem rude. However, in the end, curiosity gets the better of me.
“Tell me something, Tom. When you were studying all those years, did you ever have time for a relationship?”
He blushes slightly. “I focused all my energy on studying. I never had time for relationships. Now that I’m finally a doctor, however, I have the chance to get out a bit more. Honestly, I couldn’t resist asking you out when I saw you. You have the most incredible smile.”
My face lights up at his compliment. “Thank you,” I reply, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s very nice of you to say.”
We start to talk about our work. Shortly after telling Tom about Devon, our meals arrive.
“How long have you been working for him?” he asks after taking a bite of his lentils. I must say that they don’t look t
hat appetising.
“About a year, but I’ve known him for several.” I sample my chicken. It’s good—not too spicy and has just enough flavour to satisfy my palate.
“Really? How come?”
I swallow, covering my mouth before I answer. “He and my brother were best friends in school.”
“Not so much now?”
“Oh, they’re still very close. It’s just that my brother is in the Forces, so we don’t get to see him very often.”
He looks sympathetic. “That’s too bad. Being in the Forces these days is rather dangerous. Soldiers used to be sent to Cyprus and Gibraltar … places like that. Now, it’s more like Afghanistan or Iraq. I commend anyone who wants to join these days. It can’t be easy. I bet your mum and dad find it particularly hard.”
I wince, realising he doesn’t know much about me. “My mum died three years ago, but yes, my father finds it hard. We’re his only kids.”
Now it’s Tom’s turn to wince. “I’m sorry about your mum.”
I move the food around on my plate. “It is what it is. It may have been three years, but it never gets easier.”
“Do you mind me asking how she died?”
I place my fork down and look up. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. “She was shot.”
Tom’s eyes widen. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry. That’s just terrible. I assume whoever did it is in prison?”
Tears well in my eyes, and I shake my head. “The person has never been caught. Police assume it was a robbery gone wrong. My dad blames himself because he wasn’t home when the person broke in. They shot my mum, grabbed whatever they perceived as valuable, and took off. When my dad got home, he found her lying on the living room floor in a pool of her own blood.”
He looks down for a moment. I can see the look of empathy. “It can’t be easy to know that whoever did it is still out there.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not.”
Leaning forward, he places a hand on mine. I look at his gesture and then back at him. “I know this is our first date and I’m aware this could go nowhere after tonight, but I just want you to know I am here if you ever need someone to talk to.”
My heart warms at his kind words. This date didn’t start off too well, but he’s relaxed a lot more since we started talking about family.
“That’s very kind of you. Thank you. It really means a lot to me.”
“You’re welcome.”
I’m about to comment on how I think he’s in the right profession when someone I certainly wasn’t expecting suddenly appears at our table.
Devon looks at Tom—specifically at Tom’s hand which is covering my own—and then at me.
“Devon, what are you doing here?”
As Tom looks up, Devon glares at him and his hand again. Getting the hint, Tom removes his hand and sits back. Devon looks back at me.
“I’m sorry for interrupting your meal, but I have an emergency.”
I frown. “What is it?”
“Aaron Sutherland’s requesting the copy of my CV as well as the acquisition letter I asked you to draft up for me earlier today.”
I briefly look at Tom before glancing back up at Devon. I can’t believe he’s interrupted my date for this. He knows my computer password and can easily access whatever he needs himself. “You have the password to my computer, so—”
“I’m not sure where everything is on your computer. It would just be easier if you came with me. I have a car outside. I will take you to the office and then have my driver take you home.”
I motion to our meals. “But we’re still eating.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t know this would crop up. You know how important this deal is, Andi. I need you there.” When I sigh, he says, “Listen, I will pay for your meals. I know this is an inconvenience, but I wouldn’t ask unless I really needed you.”
I feel like pointing out that he’s contradicting himself because, according to him, I’m normally fucking useless or just downright incompetent.
I look at Tom apologetically before looking back up at Devon. “Can you give me a minute, please?”
Devon nods. “Sure. One minute.” He places a couple fifty pound notes on the table. “I’ll be waiting in the car.” He storms off.
“I’m so sorry about this,” I say to Tom.
He smiles. “That’s okay. He seems a bit—”
“Stuck up? Rude? Blunt?”
Tom chuckles. “I was going to say uptight, but those will do as well.”
Closing my eyes, I sigh. “I really am sorry.”
“Stop apologising. It’s not your fault. You had no idea this was going to happen. You go do what you need to. Maybe we can try this again some other time.”
“That would be nice. Shall I give you a call?”
He nods, and a smile lights up his face. “I would like that.”
I grab my things, stand, and then walk around the table to place a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for dinner.”
Tom lifts his fork. “You should be thanking your boss. He paid for it.” He laughs as I shake my head.
“Speak soon,” I say as I start walking toward the exit.
When I get outside, Ian, Devon’s driver, quickly opens the door for me. “Miss Bellingham.”
I smile. “Thank you, Ian.” Once inside, I look across at Devon. He stares at my legs for a second before meeting my eyes.
“You two seemed … cosy. How long have you known him?”
I want to tell him it’s none of his business, but I bite my tongue. “He’s a doctor at the local hospital and gets coffee at the same place I get yours. We bump into each other a lot, so we started talking.”
“So you just went out and held hands with a virtual stranger? I thought you knew better than that.”
I feel my anger rise at his scrutiny. “He isn’t a virtual stranger. We’ve been talking off and on for the last six months.”
He laughs. “It took him six months to ask you out? What a fucking chump.”
I give him an angry glare. “He’s not a chump. He’s a gentleman. Something you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh, I can be a gentleman, but the girl I’m with has to act—” he says, pausing to look at my dress, “and look like a lady.”
I grit my teeth. I know full well what he’s insinuating. He’s always been very clear about what I should wear around him. That’s why I like to let loose when I’m not in his presence.
I want so much to bite back, but I’m not going to rise to his level. I refuse to. Instead, I turn my head and stare out at the pedestrians going about their business. No matter what time, day or night, London is always busy—especially the centre of the city. It’s getting to be more and more like New York. “The City That Never Sleeps.” Thinking about New York brings a smile to my face. My anger fades as I picture myself walking around Central Park, visiting the Statue of Liberty, and going up the Empire State Building. I’ve seen it in so many romantic films and TV shows, and it’s always fascinated me. I guess I’m a bit of a romantic because I always pictured myself going up there with the one I love. I won’t miss the opportunity, though. If it presents itself, I’m going … even if it is alone.
After about twenty minutes, Ian pulls up to the entrance of the building, gets out, and opens the door. Without a word, Devon steps out and waits for me to follow. As I slide over, Ian offers me his hand. I take it, smiling up at him.
“Thank you, Ian.”
He smiles back. “You’re welcome, Miss Bellingham.”
Devon looks at us, gritting his teeth. “Come on. We haven’t got all fucking day. Mr Sutherland is waiting.” My face drops. He looks at Ian. “Wait here. We should be done in about twenty minutes, and then we will take Andi home.”
Ian nods. I follow behind Devon as he saunters toward the building. He swipes his card at the entrance, unlocking the door. In the reception area, we’re greeted by Carl, one of the security guards. Even though he’s in his late fifties, he flirts with
me something silly. I know he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s happily married to his wife of twenty-six years. Last year, they celebrated back home in Jamaica. He still has family there and hadn’t visited in a few years. It made me smile when he told me stories of when he used to go crabbing with his brothers as a little boy.
“Mr Jackson,” Carl says, “Miss Bellingham, you look simply beautiful this evening.” He gives me a cheeky grin as I pass.
“Good evening, Carl, and thank you.” I offer him the same cheeky grin as he gives me a wink.
With a jab of his finger, Devon punches the button for the lift. When the doors don’t open right away, he starts jabbing repeatedly. Just as I’m about to tell him it won’t go any faster just because he’s angrily pressing the button, the doors open.
Devon motions me in, then follows, hitting the button for the eighth floor. You can see a lot from the eighth floor, but it’s much better when you get to the roof. From there, the London Eye, The Shard, and the Palace of Westminster are all visible. On a clear day, you can see Tower Bridge spanning over the River Thames. There was one time I had to work late and Devon ordered Chinese food. He ate in his office, so I decided to venture up to the roof. It was cold, but worth the view. The lights of London are spectacular at night.
A repetitive tapping noise makes me look over, and I see Devon impatiently tapping his foot. He checks his ten thousand pound Rolex, making me check my one hundred pound Seksy I bought from Argos for my last birthday. It’s half-past nine.
“Nearly your bedtime?”
I snap my head up to find Devon watching me. “No. I saw you checking the time, so I was curious to know what it was. That’s all.”
The doors ping and open. Devon walks through. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you back for your cup of cocoa in your fluffy jim jams in no time.” He doesn’t turn, so I flip him the bird behind his back. He’s such an arrogant prick.
As I follow behind him, I wince with every step. My feet are still killing me. When Devon opens the door, he turns and notices me struggling. His lips curve up into that cocky, stupid grin of his.
“Having trouble walking now? Did your parents not teach you that when you were a baby?”
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