Perfect Match
Page 16
‘Seriously?’
‘You’ll look so hot in this,’ he enthuses. ‘Let me find a top.’
He scrolls through the shirts and blouses until he finds a silk cream shirt.
‘Perfect.’ He adds it to the basket. £95.
‘It’s a bit expensive,’ I point out. Daniel looks at me, perplexed, before remembering something.
‘You need shoes.’ He clicks onto the shoes page.
‘I have shoes,’ I point out but he doesn’t seem to hear me. He finds a pair of black leather ankle boots with giant gold buckles. £185.
‘What size are you?’ he asks.
‘Six.’
‘Great.’ He adds them to the bag.
‘Daniel, it’s a nice outfit but I don’t know if it’s really right for my work.’
‘Do you like it?’ he asks.
‘Yeah, but—’
‘If you like it, you should get it,’ he says as though it’s obvious.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Okay, let’s get both outfits, the boring black dress and cardigan and the cute skirt suit, and then you can see which one you prefer,’ Daniel suggests.
I shake my head. ‘You’re crazy.’
Daniel laughs. He edges away from me and starts pressing on the iPad.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask.
‘I’ll show you crazy!’ he says as he starts adding more stuff to the basket.
‘Daniel!’ I move closer.
‘I really want to see you in these.’ He clicks on a pair of lacy stockings.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Totally,’ he says, straight-faced.
I don’t really know what to make of what he’s doing, so instead, I get up to make a cup of tea, as you do.
‘I’m making tea. Want some?’
‘Yeah, okay,’ he mutters as he carries on shopping.
I take my phone and head over to the kitchen, where I fill the kettle and type a WhatsApp massage to Kate while it boils.
Me: Hey, planning to stay a few more days. Daniel just bought me a load of clothes! Next day delivery!
Kate: Seriously?!? And he seriously lives at the Shard?
Me: Yeah!
Kate: That’s crazy!!!
Me: I know!!
Kate: So, you’re not coming home then?
I look over at Daniel, sitting in front of his enormous TV tapping away at his iPad. And then I gaze beyond, at the incredible panoramic views of the city. Can you blame me for not really wanting to hurry home to Lewisham? Daniel’s right, I may as well stay for a bit.
Me: No, I’ll stay here for a few days.
Kate: Ok. Text me a pic!
I take a few snaps of the flat and send them to her, and after she’s sent back a frenzy of wide-eyed emojis, I finally get around to asking her about the Mousetrap.
Me: Have you heard back from your audition yet?
Kate: No. They said they’ll let me know in a few weeks.
Me: Fingers crossed.
Kate: Yeah!
I send a few kisses before getting on with making the tea. Of course, tea at Daniel’s place isn’t just a bog-standard tea bag chucked in a mug. Daniel doesn’t do tea bags. Instead, he has loose leaf tea from Harrods. Pearl grey, whatever that is. According to the label it’s from Fujian, China. It does taste amazing though even if it takes five times longer to prepare. Finally, after it’s brewed in the teapot and I’ve decanted it into two cups, I head back over to the sofa and hand one to Daniel.
‘Thanks,’ he says. ‘I found some cool stuff for you.’ He places the iPad down on the coffee table and picks up the remote, flicking through the channels.
‘Have you already bought it?’ I ask.
‘Yeah,’ he replies nonchalantly.
‘What did you get?’
‘Clothes. Work stuff,’ he says as he pauses on a channel showing some gangster film. ‘Oh, this is meant to be good.’
‘Let me see what you got.’ I reach across to pick up the iPad.
‘It’s low on battery. Leave it.’ He moves his foot, nudging the iPad out of my reach.
‘But I want to see. What did you get?’
‘It’s just clothes.’ He shrugs. ‘You’ll see tomorrow.’
He takes a sip of his tea and watches the movie.
‘Alright. Well, thanks then…’ I murmur, as I watch the light from the TV screen sliding over Daniel’s face.
Why’s he being so funny about this? Is the iPad really running out of battery or does he just not want me to see what he bought? Is this really normality for him? Buying a ton of stuff at the click of a button without as much as a second thought or is he trying to impress me? He looks over.
‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing,’ I reply automatically, settling down next to him with my tea. After all, my profile did make out that I wanted a rich guy to spoil me – the wealthy yang to my impoverished yin – but it feels so strange.
‘Seriously, Soph, don’t worry about it. I like treating you. I just want a few more days with you, that’s all,’ Daniel says, giving me a sweet smile as he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close.
I smile back and snuggle next to him. I suppose he’s right. To him, this is just a little treat, but to me it seems like a big deal. I should stop being so uptight and just enjoy it. After all, it’s quite nice to have someone spoiling me and pampering me. It’s nice to have someone to cuddle up with on a Sunday night, particularly since I’m so used to spending Sunday nights alone, which hasn’t been easy the past few months with my parents away and all my friends coupled up. Why would I want to race back to Lewisham when I can be here with Daniel?
I turn to give him a kiss. ‘Thanks, Daniel.’
‘No worries,’ he says, kissing me back.
He leans forward and plucks a remote off the coffee table and points it towards a sensor at the top right-hand corner of the wall. Dark screens suddenly slide shut across the windows, throwing the entire flat into darkness apart from the flickering light of the TV. Daniel presses another button on the remote and the chandelier starts to glow gently, spilling soft light over our heads.
‘You can see the TV better with the curtains drawn,’ Daniel says, placing the remote back down.
‘Curtains!’ I snort.
Curtains are crappy old floral things hanging in flats in Lewisham. They’re not electronically-controlled blackout screens at the top of the Shard. Daniel raises an eyebrow at me, as if to say, ‘what?’ before kissing me on the forehead as gangsters shoot at each other on screen.
‘Can we watch something else?’ I ask.
‘Really?’ Daniel looks a bit disappointed but reluctantly hands me the remote. I flick through the channels, but although there are dozens to choose from, there’s still nothing worth watching.
‘Here.’ I hand the remote back to him. ‘Let’s just watch your gangster thing.’
He smiles that winning smile, takes the remote and flicks back to the film.
Chapter Sixteen
‘Oh no,’ I groan, rapping my fingers against the breakfast bar. ‘I’m going to be late!’
I glance at my watch. It’s 8.54am already and not only am I running behind because Daniel and I got a bit, err, side-tracked in bed this morning but the clothes he ordered for me last night haven’t arrived either. So much for getting special treatment for living at the Shard.
‘Relax,’ Daniel insists, looking up from the banana he’s chopping. ‘You’re not travelling in from Lewisham. Your office is only ten minutes away. Just get a cab.’
He scoops his chopped banana into a blender and starts washing a punnet of blueberries. The seconds tick by.
‘I’m just going to have to wear my dress from Friday,’ I sigh. ‘I should have just gone home last night.’
Daniel stops rattling the blueberries under the tap and looks over, a slightly wounded expression on his face. Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. I rush over and open it to find the concierge wearing a
crisp white shirt holding a dozen giant packages.
‘Good morning, madam,’ he says. ‘I have an order for Sophia Jones.’
‘That’s me! Thank you so much,’ I gush, grabbing the packages.
‘My pleasure,’ he says, nodding respectfully as I close the door.
‘Wait!’ he calls out. ‘There’s more,’ he says, lifting another few handfuls of packages from the hallway.
I peer round the door to see another dozen packages.
‘Oh…’ I take the packages from him and move them into the flat before Daniel comes over and starts helping.
I shoot him a shocked look, unable to contain my surprise at how much stuff he’s bought but he just smiles innocently as we carry the packages inside.
‘Have a great day,’ the concierge says once we’re finally done.
‘You too,’ I reply, closing the door.
Daniel wanders over to the kitchen, where he presses the presses a button to blend his smoothie. The fruit churns loudly, turning a deep purple colour.
‘What the hell! How much stuff did you buy, Daniel?’ I ask, but he doesn’t seem to hear me over the sound of the blender.
I tear open one of the packages in a hurry to find something for work and I pull out a slinky midnight blue dress with capped sleeves. It’s pretty, but so short. I pull out another dress, a white lacey one. It’s so nice, but again, so short. I tear open another package to find a sexy, sheer silk blouse.
‘Daniel!’ I shout over the sound of pulverising fruit.
He glances over and switches the machine off.
‘Yeah?’ He pours the purple liquid into a glass.
‘Hardly work wear, is it?’ I hold up the top.
Daniel shrugs. ‘Why not?’
‘Somehow I doubt Ted would approve.’
Daniel smirks. ‘I don’t think Ted would mind. But yeah, I don’t want your boss perving over you. You can just wear that at weekends with me.’
Hmmm. See-through silky blouses. Hardly my thing. Still, it’s a present and I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
‘I can’t believe how much stuff you bought me,’ I comment but Daniel just gives the smallest of shrugs as he sips his smoothie. I tear open another package and pull out a grey dress in a more demure tweed-style material, with large quirky black pockets.
‘This is cool.’ I hold it up.
Daniel smiles. ‘Wear it.’
‘It’s a bit too short for work,’ I note, holding the bum-skimming dress up against my body.
‘Oh yeah, I forgot you’re a prude.’ Daniel’s lips twitch.
I tut, ignoring him as I open another of the packages to find a cream-coloured lace teddy. I raise an eyebrow at Daniel, who just sips his smoothie and grins.
‘Honestly,’ I tut, but the teddy is really gorgeous.
I wish I could just put it on right now, forget about work and hang out with Daniel all day instead. I glance up at him. He leans against the kitchen counter in his boxers. They cling to his body just enough to outline the shape of what’s underneath. We exchange a look and he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
‘You could always pull a sickie?’ he suggests but a plane tears past outside, snapping me out of my daydream.
I’ve spent two days getting jiggy with Daniel, I can’t really justify another. And anyway, Ted would be pretty pissed off if I didn’t come in, especially since Sandra was off on Friday.
‘I can’t…’
Daniel sighs. ‘Yeah, well I should head to the office anyway,’ he groans.
I look at my watch: 9.10am.
‘Ahhhh!’ I shriek, rummaging through the packages all of which appear to contain underwear.
‘Wear the grey dress,’ Daniel says but I rip open one of the other parcels. I just want to find that boring black dress I ordered. Something ordinary for work. I reach into one of the packages and pull out a patent leather bra.
‘Daniel!’ I shriek but he just laughs and holds his hands up in mock innocence. ‘I’m getting dressed.’
He downs his smoothie and wanders off. I tear open one of the other packages, which contains that red skirt suit Daniel liked. I unwrap it. It’s silky smooth and the colour is gorgeous. A deep blood red, the sort of shade I’d never have picked out for myself. The next package is the cream shirt to go with the suit so I rummage through the packages looking for the ankle boots. But instead, I open a giant shoe box to find a pair of sexy black thigh-high boots. Honestly! I pull out two more shoe boxes.
Luckily the first one I open contains the ankle boots I’m looking for. God knows what’s in the other box. Probably some plastic porn star stilettos. I dash into the bedroom clutching the outfit, tear off my dressing gown and slip the suit on. The skirt is a perfect fit, if a bit short. I don the cream shirt and glance at the label as I slip it on. 100% silk. I can’t help pausing to admire my reflection in Daniel’s bedroom mirror. Blood red must be my colour. It makes my hair and my eyes look darker, and brings out a rosy glow in my cheeks. I bunch my hair up and turn around, checking out how it makes my bum look.
‘You look hot,’ Daniel comments, as he emerges from the walk-in wardrobe, fastening a cufflink.
‘I can’t believe you got me all this stuff! I love this suit.’ I do a little twirl.
Daniel smiles contentedly. ‘I knew it would look great on you.’
‘Thank you, Daniel.’
‘It’s nothing,’ he says, as he walks up behind me and slips his hands around my waist, and I know he means it. Buying all this stuff for me really is nothing to him. I watch our reflections as he kisses my neck. I look like someone else. Someone classy and successful. And then there’s Daniel. I still look at him and just think, ‘Wow’ every time.
‘We look good together,’ he remarks, appraising our reflections in the mirror.
‘We do.’
‘We make a good couple,’ he adds, taking me by surprise.
I turn to face him, my heart suddenly a little fluttery. ‘A couple?’
Daniel looks amused. ‘Yeah. I mean we are, aren’t we?’ He scans my face questioningly.
‘Oh! Yes! A couple! Of course.’ I lean in to kiss him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him close.
A couple. We’re a couple! Sophia and Daniel. Daniel and Sophia! Ha! I can’t believe it. I hold him close, savouring the feel of his body against mine.
Suddenly the light changes in the room as clouds shift over the sun. Reality beckons.
‘I’d better go,’ I sigh.
‘Okay,’ he relents glumly, kissing the top of my head.
I slip on my ankle boots, grab my handbag and pause briefly to check out my shoes in the mirror, admiring their massive gold buckles and chunky heels. They give a young, cool edge to what would otherwise just be a sophisticated outfit. Daniel really does have an eye.
‘I’ll text you later,’ I call out to him, though he’s now retreated back into the walk-in wardrobe.
‘See you later,’ he calls back.
I hurry out of the flat, my heels pounding on the floor. There’s still loads of packages in the living room that I haven’t even opened yet. I still can’t believe how much stuff Daniel bought. I dash into the lift and shoot down to the ground floor, where I’m greeted by two doormen holding the front door open for me.
I can’t help glancing around as I step out to see if anyone has clocked me. I feel like a celebrity, just casually strutting out of the Shard on a Monday morning. But no one’s really paying attention and before I know it, I’m just another harried office worker swept up in the throng of people barging along the street towards the train station. Cars honk and swerve and the whole scene is typical Monday morning chaos. But as I reach London Bridge station and head towards the ticket barrier, I notice a few other commuters giving me appreciative second glances. I swipe my card over the ticket barrier. It must be the outfit. Or perhaps it’s the spring in my step. It’s strange to think that only three days have passed since I was last on the tube and yet
so much has changed. I have a boyfriend now! A drop dead gorgeous multi-millionaire boyfriend who lives at the Shard! I have a whole new set of clothes! I still can’t get over how much Daniel must have spent. Perhaps I ought to get him a present to say thanks, like a tie or something. Although he’s hardly going to wear something within my cheap and cheerful price range.
I rush down the escalator and barge my way onto the waiting train, where I end up wedged in the crowded carriage between a man who clearly didn’t brush his teeth this morning and a woman who keeps rustling her copy of Metro in my ear. Maybe Daniel was right and I should have just got a cab. Being down here on the stuffy underground is a bit of a shock to my system after my weekend of luxury.
I let out a sigh as the tube judders along and stare into space, avoiding eye contact with other commuters, when suddenly an advert plastered onto the side of the carriage catches my eye. An ad for Dream Dates. It must be the one Kate saw the day she convinced me to join the site - the one with the gorgeous guy on it. It features a man in a suit, stereotypically tall, dark and handsome, kissing a woman with long blonde hair. Not very imaginative. It’s like the front cover of a tacky romance novel, and yet someone has doodled over the man in black marker pen, drawing on devil’s horns, a tail and a spear. Bizarre.
I get off the tube and switch to the DLR for the final few stops to Shadwell, pushing the strange doodle out of my mind. It’s not like it means anything, it was probably just some stupid, drunk person trying to be funny.
Ten minutes later, after rattling along on the DLR and power-walking to the office, I dash through reception, feeling a little breathless by the time I finally push open the office door.
‘Morning, Ted, sorry I’m late.’ I hurry over to my desk.
Ted looks up from his computer screen and eyes me coolly. He’s got a pen tucked behind his ear, which I bet he’s forgotten is even there.
‘Trains were delayed. Engineering works in Lewisham,’ I mumble.
Ted nods stiffly. ‘Fine,’ he sighs.
If there’s one thing I know I can depend upon at times like this, it’s Ted’s low opinion of Lewisham. He seems to see it as some kind of post-apocalyptic wasteland with third world trains and infrastructure, woefully substandard compared to the cushy little St Alban’s village he commutes in from every day.