And, of course, the biggest obstacle was that I was pretty sure Charlie Richmond had absolutely no romantic interest in me whatsoever. In his own words, he’d said that having a partner in a similar field was ideal for him, providing a common ground for conversation at the least. Admittedly, we were never short of conversation as friends but still. He clearly had ideas as to the requirements of his perfect woman. And I didn’t fit them.
I brought my gaze back to the room and found myself caught in Charlie’s. He raised an eyebrow at me, a silent enquiry. If only he knew, I thought to myself. Instead I gave him a small smile, reassuring him I was just fine. He seemed to buy it. No surprise. I’d been practising that smile for years. The sympathetic smiles from my parents’ friends, teachers who normally told me off for daydreaming had also used the same smile as they’d pulled my attention gently back to the room. And I knew that, even now, I did it on the blog. To the web, I was perfectly fine, and absolutely happy. They didn’t know about the shock of losing my job and my boyfriend on the same day. They didn’t know I still went and sat at Mum’s grave, sometimes with a book, sometimes just to sit and tell her all the stuff that I wished I could tell her in person. They didn’t know I had set up an email address for her that I wrote to in an effort to feel closer to her. They didn’t know I’d been stood up in a romantic restaurant by a good-looking policeman who had already moved on without telling me.
I was happy, bubbly Libby. And sometimes keeping up that act was just exhausting. But I didn’t see a way out of it. I’d made it part of my USP, not only for the blog, but also in my life, for better or worse. Mentally I gave myself a shake, smoothed my dress and returned my attention to the cool, air-conditioned office.
Tilly and I had absolutely loved the beauty products that Charlie had brought back from the States for us. Consequently, the company had sent the whole collection and done some more research into the market. Charlie’s risk assessment of them branching out into Europe had obviously given them hope because it all seemed to be progressing well that way. And they wanted me along for the ride, helping to promote this new part of their venture. I was thrilled to do so. The products were great and I really liked the people I’d been dealing with over email. They’d advised that they were coming to London to have some more meetings regarding the expansion, including one with Charlie at his offices and had suggested I come along and sit in for part of it. Which was why I was there now. To be honest, I could have left after the first twenty minutes once my participation had been discussed and plans relating to that. From then on, the conversation and language had turned into one I didn’t fluently speak, which had allowed my brain to go poking about for something else to think about. Which had turned out to be Charlie Richmond.
Finally, the meeting was over and everyone began filing out. The representatives from the beauty company came over to me, said lots of nice things and told me that they’d be in touch again shortly. We did the whole two-cheek-air-kiss thing, which they then repeated with Charlie before heading out. Charlie snagged me by the elbow as I made to leave, pulling me back.
‘You OK?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘You looked like you were glazing over a couple of times there. I was worried that I was boring you.’
‘Pah! You didn’t even know I was in the room.’
He dropped his glance for a moment. ‘It’s hard not to notice you in a room full of boring suits.’
I took his point. The heatwave was still engulfing the country, melting tarmac and cooking sunbathers to a fetching shade of lobster red. I’d decided to forego the black suit this time and had instead chosen a yellow and white Liberty print sundress with a light Chanel style jacket over it. The jacket had lasted about five minutes. I’d figured that the company had been studying my blog long enough now that they knew my style. And it wasn’t as if I’d turned up in ripped jeans.
I chewed the inside of my mouth for a moment, before remembering my brother had commented that I bore a strong resemblance to Sonic the Hedgehog when I did so.
‘Should I have gone with the suit?’
Charlie raised his eyebrows and shook his head. ‘No! Not at all. It wasn’t a criticism. It’s kind of nice to look out and see a little ray of sunshine in the room. Not to mention a friendly face.’
‘Thanks. Being a ray of sunshine is always nice. But I don’t think you’re short of people wanting to be friendly here.’ I gave him a wink and made to walk out.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he asked, his face a mixture of confusion and amusement.
‘Just saying.’
‘Just saying what, exactly?’
‘Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you haven’t notic—’
‘Ready for lunch, Charlie?’ The brunette interrupting us leant on the glass door in a way that looked both natural and incredibly sexy. I cast my mind back to my last experience with Charlie and a glass door. Definitely not sexy.
‘Two minutes.’ He turned to me. ‘You ready?’
‘For what?’
‘Lunch.’
‘Oh! I was just going to grab some sandwiches and have them on the train home.’
‘You were?’
‘Yes. I didn’t know the day involved lunch.’
‘Of course it does.’
I glanced out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the wall of the office. Below us, the retired battleship sat steadfast, as all around it the water glittered as if a million stars had been tipped into the Thames. A tall ship was making its way down the centre of the river, and, to our right, traffic was backing up on Tower Bridge as the Victorian engineering began to go to work raising the middle, ready to allow the ship to pass through.
‘I’m not really all that hungry, to be honest.’ Actually, I was starving.
Charlie moved and stood to my side, watching the bridge. ‘So, that wasn’t your stomach I heard rumbling during my presentation then?’
Bugger. I thought I’d covered that.
‘The cough was a good attempt at disguise though.’
‘I was too nervous for breakfast. Don’t be mean.’
He squeezed my shoulders. ‘No need to be nervous now. They loved you in person just as much as they thought they would from your blog and correspondence.’
‘You think so?’
‘I know so. I might be a bit crap at reading people socially but this?’ He held his index finger in the air and made a small circle with it. ‘This, I’m good at.’
‘I can tell. And thank you.’
‘No need to thank me. Just come to lunch. It’ll be a lot more fun with you there.’
I watched the ship pass through the bridge and the cantilevers start moving immediately to bring it back down. London traffic snarled at the best of times, so there was no hanging around in getting it flowing again as soon as possible.
Ms Brunette was back at the door. ‘Hey, Charlie, can I speak to you quickly, before we go?’
Charlie smiled. ‘Sure.’ He looked back to me. ‘We’ll meet you by the lift in a minute, OK?’
I guessed I was going to lunch with them, then.
‘OK. I’m just going to nip to the…’ I sort of pointed out of the door, and he got the idea.
I was just making sure everything was where it should be when I heard the door to the Ladies open and two pairs of stiletto-heeled shoes walk in. These were accompanied by American accents.
‘Oh, my God. He is so hot! I have no idea what he said in that presentation, so I hope you took notes.’ I imagined this was Ms Brunette. Brandy, Sandy, Mandy? I’d been introduced to seven people at the same time and could remember only the first two names. She hadn’t been in the first two.
‘Lucky for you, I did. Why don’t you just ask him out?’
‘I’m planning my moment.’ I heard a bag zip pull, and some movement. I guessed they were fixing their hair.
‘Ooh owe, I id ink ee ite ee eeing at ibby.’ And doing their lipstick apparently. ‘But I don’t think so,’
she finished, lipstick back to perfect now, I assumed.
My hand was on the door catch, but at this I stopped. I knew I should just go out there. Mum had always told us it was rude to listen at keyholes and that you risked hearing something you’d rather not. But it wasn’t as if I were hearing anything new to me.
‘But he doesn’t look at her like that.’
‘No. You’re right. She’s hardly his type anyway, is she? I mean, she’s nice. Kind of cute. But she’s way too dreamy for him. Charlie’s sharp, smart, high-flying. He needs someone on that same level. Someone he can have an intellectual conversation with.’
My fingers closed around the catch as I felt colour rush to my face.
‘She kind of looked a bit blank in there. She’s pretty decoration but Charlie needs someone who totally understands what he does for a living and appreciates it.’
‘And I suppose you would know just how to show that appreciation?’
‘You know it. And, my God, did you see his hands? They’re huge!’
This seemed a source of great amusement.
‘Candy, you are the worst! Charlie Richmond is a fine, upstanding Brit. He is not going to be into spanking!’
My mother had been 100 per cent right. I was hearing plenty I didn’t want to!
‘You’d be surprised.’
‘You asked him?’ I imagined the other woman’s jaw had dropped, just as mine had. I didn’t entirely know if I wanted to hear the answer.
‘Of course not. I’m just saying, you’d be surprised. They always say it’s the quiet ones.’
‘Come on, let’s get to lunch. And try not to drool into your salad too much.’
I waited until the door closed and I was sure that they had gone before I came out of the stall. I quickly washed my hands, brushed my hair and slapped a top-up of lippy on. Straightening up, I tried to force the overheard words out of my head. Walking purposefully to the main door, I took a deep breath and headed out.
Charlie was waiting at the lifts, along with the two women and another man from the London office who’d been in the meeting. He’d been third in line to be introduced. I was fairly sure that his name was Stuart, but I wasn’t putting money on it. Charlie smiled when I came into view and I did a little hurry-up walk as it was clear they’d been waiting for me. We rode down in the lift and walked across the minimalistic foyer, the women’s shoes clacking loudly on the limestone tiled floor. My own platform sandals had a rubberised sole, and I squeaked along behind them. Charlie stood back and let me into the revolving door first. I pushed it round, popping out into the scorching summer air. I caught my breath as the heat hit me. Warmth radiated up from the paving stones and I could almost feel my skin turning pink as I waited. The other women exited and turned their faces to the sun, catching the rays and adding to their already perfect tans.
Stuart led the way as we turned and headed towards the river.
Charlie caught my arm as I moved closer to the buildings in order to grab some shade.
‘You all right?’
I squinted up at him. ‘Yes. Fine. Why?’
He looked at me a moment. ‘You were kind of a long time. I was worried that you might be… unwell.’ His voice was low, almost a whisper.
I stopped. ‘No!’
Oh, great. Ms Brunette was definitely right. Charlie most certainly didn’t think of me in a desirable way. At all. Apparently he thought of me with an upset stomach.
‘The door in the stall got jammed. I was… stuck.’
Well, the last part was sort of true.
‘Why didn’t you call out?’
‘Does it matter? I got out. I’m here now.’
‘No. I’m just… what’s up? You don’t seem quite yourself.’
My normal, dreamy self. The woman’s words made me feel as if I were back at school with the cool girls taking the piss out of me for my pale skin and red hair.
‘I’m all right, Charlie. Really. Just a bit hot. It’s a little above my melting temperature out here.’
He nodded, not looking entirely convinced. ‘We’re nearly there.’
A few minutes later and we were all sitting around a circular table in the window of an upscale restaurant. The Golden Table. Of course. The seating plan hardly surprised me as Charlie was undeniably gorgeous, and looked even more edible in his handmade suit than the food on the menu. The two women were incredibly well groomed, good-looking, with Miss Brunette well into the realm of beautiful. Stuart and I did OK, but I knew it was these three that had inspired the maître d’ to have us directed to the most prominently viewed table from outside, the message being that, ‘Beautiful people dine here. Come in and join the beautiful people.’ It was an odd concept, I always thought, as I tended to look at the menu, not the other diners, when I chose a restaurant but it was widely practised, so I guessed the industry felt that there was some benefit.
Charlie ordered wine for the table along with some iced water. As soon as the latter arrived he poured some out, handing mine to me with a brief glance as Ms Brunette caught his attention with some clever piece of conversation. The restaurant had gone with a trendy retro theme and the two women chose fruit juices as starters, with salads to follow. Big surprise, I thought, having noted their teeny bums and superbly toned arms when they’d slipped off their jackets outside to reveal sleeveless blouses. My arms were OK but I wasn’t exactly a slave to the gym. Perhaps I should have a fruit juice and salad.
‘Prawn cocktail and the sea bass, please.’ Oh well.
When the starters came, it was clear that although the theme was retro there was definitely a modern twist on it all. The cocktail had the biggest prawn I’d ever seen in my life hooked over the glass edge. I stared at mine as it looked back at me, accusation in its beady little black eyes.
Charlie was busy dismantling his own prawn when I saw him glance over at my plate, and then at my face. I hadn’t moved.
‘Libs?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Everything all right?’
I chewed my lip. ‘It’s looking at me,’ I whispered.
The others were talking amongst themselves but I hadn’t missed Ms Brunette’s smirk when my order was placed in front of me. I never was very good at hiding my emotions. Mum said it was the Irish blood and that it was healthy. Right now, I wasn’t sure I agreed that it was such a helpful trait.
I saw him try to cover a smile. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s not.’
I flicked a glance to him.
‘I thought you liked seafood.’
‘I do. I just don’t like my food looking back at me.’
He did the smile again and reached across, made some crunching noises and plopped the now naked prawn on top of my cocktail. He took the shell away and put it on the far side of his own plate.
‘’Scuse fingers,’ he said, and then set back to eating his own starter.
I was aware that the others at the table hadn’t missed any of the procedure. The women had exchanged a look that even I, with my innate want to see the best in people, had interpreted as pity. I pushed the thought away and stabbed the offending prawn with my fork, delivering it to my mouth with a controlled calmness I didn’t feel.
‘So, Libby. What do you think of Charlie moving to New York? Isn’t it exciting?’
35
I snapped my head up at the question and the huge prawn slid down my throat before I got a chance to give it even one chew. My eyes bulged and I felt my throat close as I tried to draw breath – something my body had apparently decided it didn’t really feel like doing right now. Grabbing for the water glass to wash it down, I took a swig but it didn’t budge. I was starting to panic now and the others on the table were looking around awkwardly as I felt myself growing redder and redder from alarm and shock. There was probably embarrassment mixed in there somewhere too, but right now I was focused more on trying not to die of choking. I could always worry about dying of embarrassment later, if I got that far.
‘Excuse us.’ Charlie�
�s arms wrapped around me and moments later we were out of the door and around the corner, away from the prying eyes of our fellow diners. A group of teenagers were hanging around, laughing too loudly and shoving each other, as tourists scuttled past, too busy capturing the scenery with their phones to actually look at it with their eyes. I was still making ghastly noises as I tried to breathe and my eyes were streaming. I wasn’t sure if I was crying or if it was just from trying not to die. Either way, I was pretty sure my make-up was taking a hammering. Bizarrely, I suddenly had the thought that I hoped Charlie had the sense to wipe off the mascara stains before they zipped me up into a bag. But he was a bloke. A blokey bloke. Of course it wouldn’t occur to him! I flapped my arms some more. Oh God, I was going to die and look a mess!
Charlie gave me a heft on the back that did nothing but send me flying forwards. Luckily, he had his other arm around my waist so I didn’t face-plant straight onto the pavement. He moved behind me, wrapped both arms around my middle and pulled in and up. The prawn released itself, exited through my open mouth and sailed gracefully through the air, before landing safely in the hoody of one of the teenagers.
Charlie and I both stared for a moment. I knew that really I should go over and tell him, and apologise. But right now I was busy gulping air into my lungs and trying to return to a colour vaguely reminiscent of the one I normally was. Plus, the kid in question was wearing his trousers so low that he had to walk like an arthritic pirate just to keep them up. I had no desire to see random men’s underwear and didn’t appreciate it being shown without my asking. So I kept quiet about the prawn. Call it karma.
‘Jesus, Libby. You had me worried there.’
I nodded. That made two of us. But my mind was already floating back to what had caused me to swallow the damn thing whole in the first place.
What do you think of Charlie moving to New York?
‘You should go back to your colleagues.’
‘It’s all right. I can wait with you for a bit.’
The truth was, I didn’t want to go back in there. I’d happily leave right this minute, but my bag was back in the restaurant and it had my train ticket, money, phone – everything – in it.
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