The Secret to Falling in Love

by Victoria Cooke

  ‘As grown-ups?’

  ‘Yes.’ He gestured towards the large inflatable doughnut shapes stacked up at the top of the slope. ‘Come on then.’ We collected our rings and took our places in separate lanes at the top of the slope, which suddenly looked very steep and scary. ‘Three . . . two . . . one . . . Go!’ Before I knew what had happened, a steward had pulled the cords on our tubes, sending us hurtling down the slope. My breath caught in my throat, and I tensed my stomach, hoping to avoid that awful downhill, roller-coaster feeling.

  We hit the rubber mats at the bottom and ground to a halt. I burst out laughing. ‘That was brilliant,’ I said, my heart racing with exhilaration.

  ‘I told you we were going to have some fun. How about another go before the après-ski?’

  ‘Après-ski? On a school night?’

  ‘Okay, just one drink in the bar. You’ll be tucked up in bed by ten, I promise.’

  ***

  Scott placed two drinks on the wooden table and sat down opposite me. ‘I must admit, it’s nice to have normal shoes back on,’ I said, taking a sip of my cold Sauvignon Blanc.

  ‘Yes, and if an avalanche or blizzard were to hit Manchester any time soon, you would at least be well-equipped for escape. Slowly. If there was a gentle slope nearby and nobody at the bottom. I’d call that progress.’ He grinned and raised his pint of ale.

  ‘Are you ever serious?’ I scolded.

  ‘Sometimes. I’m sorry. Would you like a serious conversation, Melissa?’ He folded his arms and straightened his back in an attempt to look solemn.

  ‘Yes, okay. Tell me what you do for a living since it’s not ski coaching – you’re pretty awful at that,’ I said, adding a smile.

  ‘Now who isn’t being serious? I’m a good instructor; I’ve just never had a student as bad as you before. Anyway, I did coach, back at uni. I’d skied since I was a child and took an instructor course so I could earn some money to get through my student years. Back then we only had a dry ski slope, nothing as fancy as this. After that, I gave it up whilst I focused on my career as an architect, but when this place opened I did some instructing to earn some extra cash to pay for my wedding.’ His voice tailed off. ‘Money well spent!’ He mustered a laugh, but there was no humour behind it.

  ‘You don’t look nerdy enough to be an architect,’ I said, trying to capture the light-hearted mood of a moment ago.

  ‘Oh, I do when I’m working. I have this whole Clark Kent thing going on, except I can’t fly, and when I take off my glasses and shirt, I turn into a cool ski instructor rather than a superhero.’

  Scott was really easy to talk to. It was refreshing to feel so relaxed around a bloke, but I put that down to the fact that he wasn’t looking for any kind of relationship, so we were just friends without the pressure involved in it becoming anything more. I could be myself without worrying he wouldn’t like or appreciate me – a worry I constantly had throughout my date with Joseph.

  As it approached nine-thirty, we decided to call it a night since we were both working the next day. We stepped outside into the fresh darkness, and he turned to face me. He looked into my eyes, and I felt a jolt, as if there was some kind of connection between us . . . No it was nothing. I dismissed it instantly and rushed to speak before an uncomfortable silence could build. ‘I had a lot of fun tonight. Skiing, doughnut-sledging and a glass of wine. An excellent way to spend a Tuesday evening.’

  ‘Me too. If you’re keen to learn I could see if I can get a few more slots arranged.’

  I wasn’t sure how keen on skiing I actually was, but I was definitely inclined to say I wanted more lessons. ‘That would be great. I’m sorry you didn’t get chance to do much actual skiing though.’

  ‘It’s okay, I had fun. And besides, I’m actually going on a skiing trip with some friends this weekend, so will get lots of time for proper skiing then. We can definitely arrange another lesson when I’m back.’ He sipped his beer casually.

  ‘Communication is still going to be a problem though.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not a big fan of mobile phones or all that social media stuff myself. I’ll find a way.’ He smiled, but I couldn’t tell if he was blowing me off. Maybe he’d only offered to be polite and didn’t expect I would agree. We said our goodbyes and headed off home.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As I left work on Wednesday, I spotted a twitchy-looking Amanda waiting in the entrance. She was smartly dressed in a black trouser suit, like she’d come straight from work. Her arms were folded, and her eyebrows furrowed. ‘Amanda?’ I called.

  ‘Mel, thank goodness I haven’t missed you.’

  ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘Yes, yes, work’s just been a bit stressful. I need a chat and a drink – are you free? I’m buying.’ She linked her arm through mine and began to march me away from the office before I had time to answer.

  We didn’t talk much on the way, but I knew where she was taking me. Amanda’s ultimate de-stress bar was Cloud 23. Something about watching the city views from above whilst sipping a mojito really calmed her down; at least the mojito always did.

  When we arrived it was pretty quiet. The usual after-work crowds seeking a mid-week stress relief hadn’t yet arrived, which meant we could grab a table by the window. The sun was just setting, and while Amanda was at the bar bothering someone for a cocktail menu (despite the fact we’d order mojitos anyway), I took a minute to admire the sunset over the city. The golden rays flooded the room and bounced off the mirrored walls, filling the room with warmth.

  My eyes fell on a couple sitting a few tables away. They were holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes, a huge bouquet of red roses sitting on the table. I suddenly realised what day it was – Valentine’s Day. Without my phone reminding me of the date, and the endless Facebook posts, it had completely slipped my mind. I watched the couple, lost in their own little world, and felt a pang of envy in my stomach.

  ‘Ugh. Bloody couples are bloody everywhere tonight,’ said Amanda as she came back to the table and followed the direction of my gaze. ‘I just ordered two mojitos. I thought it would be quicker than table service,’ the ever-efficient Amanda announced.

  ‘That’s fine by me. So what’s up?’

  ‘Firstly, I’m sorry I’ve not called round to catch up this week. We have a new client at work and he’s been keeping us very busy. Anyway, this client had a name I thought I’d heard before. I couldn’t remember where I’d heard it until today. He came in to sign off some paperwork and gave me this.’ She pulled a black business card from her bag. I didn’t need to examine it to know it was Joseph’s. ‘So of course I knew who he was then – your coffee-shop date! Anyway, I didn’t let on I was your friend and kept the meeting professional until . . .’ She paused and took a deep breath.

  My stomach lurched. ‘Until what, Amanda?’

  ‘When he left, he stood outside for a minute or two waiting for someone. It was your boss, Dee. They hugged, he kissed her cheek, and they walked off arm in arm, laughing. I knew something was suspicious and, whatever it was, I couldn’t let them do that to you, Mel. So I followed them.’

  I swallowed hard, my throat dry. ‘And?’ I croaked.

  ‘I approached them. I was very polite, no public showdown. I just said that I knew who he was and that he’d been on a date with you, and I hoped he wasn’t messing you around.’

  I groaned. ‘Oh, Amanda, why would you do that?’ I put my head in my hands. ‘What did they say?’ I regretted the question as soon as I had asked it.

  ‘He was very polite and said that he and Dee were just friends and it was sweet how I was sticking up for my friend. I felt like a silly schoolgirl. Dee, on the other hand, laughed and told me to run along and talk to you. I didn’t wait around; I apologised and went back into my office. Dee is a scary woman, even to me, and I’m a hard-ass.’ Amanda’s cheeks flushed red.

  ‘Oh, Amanda, I’m almost as embarrassed for you as I
am for myself. The whole date was a set-up. It was Dee’s way of pumping some excitement into my writing. Sorry I hadn’t told you. I only found out on Monday, and I’ve felt like a prize idiot ever since. I hope you didn’t get into trouble at work.’

  ‘I’m not sure yet. It depends on whether or not he files a complaint, I suppose.’ She slumped back into her seat. ‘Anyway, what do you mean it was a set-up? What happened?’

  I drew a long breath. ‘The date was amazing. He picked me up in a limo, gave me a rose, took me to his amazing apartment, and we had a delicious three-course dinner. We sat outside for a bit and kissed. Things got heated, and then all of a sudden, he blew me off. At work on Monday, Dee told me that Joseph was a friend of hers, and she’d asked him to take me on a fabulous date to give me something exciting to write about.’ I took a sip of my mojito to mask my excessive need to swallow.

  ‘What a pair of dicks!’ she hissed.

  ‘Hear hear.’ I raised my glass.

  ‘I hope you’ve given them what for.’ Her nostrils flared as she spoke.

  ‘Not really, not yet. I told Dee I wasn’t happy and stormed off home for the rest of the day, and I’ve spent the last two days avoiding her. As for Joseph, I had a letter from him on Monday saying how great he thought the date was – he obviously hadn’t spoken to Dee. Presumably he knows now, which is probably why the weasel hasn’t been in touch again. Anyway, I’m just going to start looking for new jobs once this article is done. I can’t stand it there any more.’

  ‘Well, you’ve a lot more self-control than I would have.’ She took a sip of her drink, and her eyes dropped a little. ‘Mel, there’s something else.’

  ‘You didn’t thump either of them, did you?’ I really wouldn’t have put it past her.

  ‘No, but later on Joseph came back into my office. I thought he was going to give me a dressing-down, but instead he asked if I would be seeing you any time soon. I lied and said we’d planned to meet for a drink this evening, and he asked if I’d give you this.’ She placed a black envelope on the table. ‘I’ve no idea what it is, or why he didn’t want to give it to you himself or give it to Dee to pass on.’

  I stared down at the envelope. My first instinct was to tear it into tiny pieces and bin it. What could he possibly have to say that could excuse what he agreed to, what he did to me? I stared at it a moment longer. If it was an apology, would it help? In the end, curiosity got the better of me and I picked it up and opened it. Inside was a piece of cream paper, folded neatly. It was a short note that read:

  Melissa,

  I really did enjoy our evening on Sunday. I should have been upfront with you and for that I’m sorry. When I made my promise to Dee I hadn’t met you. Going through with it afterwards was a mistake, and I’m truly sorry to have hurt your feelings. Everything we spoke about, everything I told you was true – it was just our initial meeting that was dishonest. I hope you can forgive me.

  Joseph

  X

  I didn’t know what to think. It was nice to have an apology, at least. He didn’t have to do that; he could have just crawled back under his rock.

  ‘Well, what does it say?’ Amanda was not even trying to conceal her desperation.

  ‘Have a look.’ I slid the letter over to her.

  Her eyebrows furrowed in the middle as she read every word carefully, like she would a contract. It was the second time today I’d seen her face do that, and both times were because of me. If she ended up with a permanent wrinkle across her head I was sure she’d send me her Botox bill.

  She relaxed her face and considered the letter for a moment before sharing her conclusion. ‘He seems genuine to me.’ She thrust the letter back in my hand. ‘If you liked him, why not give him a second chance? You’ve said before that Dee can be quite manipulative.’

  I did what I always did when I felt uncomfortable and sidestepped the question. ‘For a legal eagle, Amanda, you are missing one important fact. He doesn’t ask for a second chance. He asks for forgiveness.’

  ‘Ah, but us legal eagles like to review a situation in its entirety before dissecting it and analysing the pieces. If he didn’t want a second date he wouldn’t care about forgiveness.’

  I considered what she was saying. I was surprised; Amanda wasn’t usually queen of forgiveness, and the fact she was so quick to extend it to Joseph knocked me for six a little. It made me feel petty for staying mad at him. Probably the grown-up thing to do would be to hear him out in person. There was nobody else in my life showing an interest, and I did enjoy his company. I supposed he couldn’t hurt me any more than he already had, so what did I have to lose?

  ‘Okay, maybe you’re right. But what do I do now? I can’t get in contact with him unless I visit his office, and that is a tad desperate.’

  ‘It is. We’re going to play this cool.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘Yes, we. He’s back in our office on Friday, so I’ll tell him that I gave you the note, and all I know is that you read it and put it into your bag. Let him stew for a little while. I’m his only means of contacting you at the moment. He won’t dare use Dee, and I doubt he’s brave enough to actually face you yet.’

  ‘Well, I suppose it’s worth a try.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘Scotland?’ I gasped, staring at her, dumfounded. As heat flushed through my body I worked to steady my breath.

  ‘Yes, just for a week. All expenses paid. It’s my way of saying sorry, you know, for the whole Joseph misunderstanding.’ Misunderstanding? I wanted to clutch her by the throat. ‘I thought the premise of your article was good Melissa and I feel like maybe I was wrong and there doesn’t need to be a whole dramatic event to hook the reader. You already did that, so maybe Scotland will give you the chance to live technology free and “find yourself” or some nonsense like that. Not nonsense but, well you know. Treat it like a break, a paid holiday – work on your article, enjoy the scenery and write about being there.’

  I sat in stunned silence. I couldn’t believe the woman. She must’ve been mad to think I was naive enough to trust her again.

  ‘No!’ I blurted before I’d given it any more consideration. Dee’s jaw dropped but I remained indignant and clamped my mouth shut in refusal to back down. I’d had enough.

  ‘Take the day to think about it. Like I said, it’s a no-strings-attached apology, giving you time to immerse yourself in your cause,’ she said.

  ‘Fine, I’ll think about it,’ I replied, already sure what my answer would be.

  ***

  ‘On one hand, the lengths she goes to never fail to astound me.’ I slammed the coffee jar down on the counter.

  ‘And on the other hand, a week away from her sounds pretty good?’ Simon cut in, gently taking the cup out of my other hand to avoid damage. He’d hit the nail on the head. At that moment in time, it really did sound good. I wasn’t sure she could sink any lower than what she already had; maybe I could take advantage of what she was offering and then leave having had a free, relaxing break.

  ‘Okay,’ I replied slowly, letting it sink in. ‘So what if I go – will she think she’s forgiven? That all is fine? Because it’s not; it really isn’t. I’m leaving this place as soon as I find another job.’

  ‘What does it matter? Who cares what she thinks? I’d take the free trip and the week off work and then if you find another job, so what?’

  ‘What if it’s some twisted plot to create a great article? What if she decides to highlight how reliant we are upon our mobile phones in an emergency? She might be planning to have me murdered up there in the middle of nowhere so she can write about how I couldn’t raise the alarm and call for help.’ I flailed my arms for emphasis. ‘Maybe she’ll have one of those killer clowns scrape their nails down the window at night.’

  Simon pressed his fist to his face, trying hard to conceal his amusement.

  ‘I’m glad you find it funny, but I’m serious. It would make an awesome st
ory.’

  Simon placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. ‘Mel, honey, Dee is a bitch, she’s arrogant and cocky but she isn’t a murderer, or a killer clown for that matter.’

  ‘Oh shut up, Simon, you know what I mean,’ I said, knocking his arms away. ‘Fine, I’ll go, but if anything happens up there, anything at all, I want you to know, I blame you.’

  I walked back over to Dee’s office – feeling more composed – and popped my head around the door. ‘Okay, I’ll go.’

  ‘Perfect, you’ll love it there. I’ll have the details drawn up and to you by the end of the day.’

  ‘When do I go?’ I already knew the answer would be ‘very soon’. Dee didn’t mess about when she had an idea.

  ‘Friday.’

  ‘As in this Friday?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You do realise that today is Thursday, and that gives me almost no time to get organised? How do you know I don’t have important plans this weekend?’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then all is well. Oh, and Mel, it’s my private getaway house that you’ll be staying in, so please look after it.’

  Later on, when the details arrived, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it all looked very well-organised. Dee had never struck me as the sort who would holiday in the rural parts of the UK – I pictured her more in some secret VIP guest suite in London with a private tunnel into Harrods or something – so I had no idea what to expect. A dilapidated inheritance property that she’d never even seen, I suspected.

  I’d take the Friday morning flight into Glasgow, pick up a car at the airport and drive the rest of the way to her small cottage on the Ardnamurchan peninsula. Dee’s assistant had even included a tourist information leaflet with my travel documents. The place looked stunning, and I allowed myself to feel a little pinch of excitement.

  ***

  When Friday arrived, I was feeling quite positive about the trip. I was looking forward to some much-needed ‘me time’; hopefully it would help to kick-start my creative juices and give me plenty of time to relax.