?I thought it would be nice to see you properly.?
Properly as in without clothes? I wonder, and then get annoyed with myself. Honestly, this guy has been a complete shithead and I?m being utterly pathetic and wondering if he still fancies me.
I wonder if he does still fancy me.
?You?re a shithead.?
?Ah. Yes, you?re right. A total shithead. But a shithead who would love to buy you a slap-up lunch if you?d let him.?
?A slap-up lunch? Mike, since when are you able to cobble together enough money for that? And the car . . . surely you aren?t actually a success, are you??
Am I flirting? It feels like I?m flirting. I am a bad person.
?I can?t deny it: I have money. Actually, I?m a huge success. I?m in business. Meet me and we can call it a business lunch.?
Why is it that even when I?m cross with Mike he makes me smile and forget what it is that made me cross in the first place? It?s always been the same: our arguments always blew over really quickly; neither of us could ever be bothered staying pissed off. David on the other hand takes things to heart much more. It took days and days to convince him that I wasn?t serious when I said I would be forced to leave him for Elvis Presley if he came back to life. And once I turned up at his place three hours after I?d said I would and he went absolutely mad. He actually shouted at me for about twenty minutes about how I need to take my safety a lot more seriously! Having said that, he was very apologetic the next day and said it was all his fault (I never followed the logic on that one, but who was I to disagree). And the following week he got me a mobile phone so that I could call him if I was ever late again. Nigel was beside himself when he saw it?apparently it?s some super phone that transmits at its own special frequency and you can only get one if you?re some hotshot spy or something. David got it from one of his clients?I suppose there are benefits to being an accountant after all.
?So will you meet me for lunch??
Something tells me that I should say no, but before I can give myself time to think I find myself saying yes.
?And David won?t mind??
?David has nothing to mind. We are having a business lunch.?
?Of course we are. Okay, be at The Place at one.?
?Maybe,? I tease, and put the phone down. I can feel that my cheeks are hot and I try to casually turn back to my computer.
?So who was that then?got a new admirer have you?? asks Denise.
?Admirer? No! No, it?s just an old friend, very old?not him, I mean we?ve known each other for ages; we?re just, you know, catching up over lunch, it?s nothing!?
She is looking at me oddly. ?I was only joking,? she ventures. ?You?re with David, aren?t you??
I turn back to my computer to get on with some work, but my mind is buzzing. Lunch with Mike? I don?t have much time. It?ll take me twenty minutes to get to the restaurant, which means I?ve got about an hour to put on some makeup, and rehearse all the incredibly smart things I?m going to say about my fabulous life.
Before I can start to bullet-point the exciting things I can talk about (my new curtain rail is all I can think of right now, and I?m not sure that?s really going to make Mike realize he was stupid to leave me), Nigel walks over to me.
I hate it when Nigel comes over to my desk. He kind of leans over so he can see exactly what I?m doing, which is generally surfing on the Internet or writing e-mails to my friends, and then he makes some sarcastic remark about how he?s assuming I?ll be staying late that evening to catch up on all my work. So whenever I see him moving in my direction, I always jump up and get to his desk before he can get to mine. One time we did actually collide, which wasn?t a very pleasant experience, but I say you take the rough with the smooth.
But this time I?m too preoccupied with Mike to notice Nigel slithering over, and before I know it he?s about two inches away from me. Luckily, I am at least looking at my research report. Unluckily, I have so far managed only to type the heading.
?Looks like you?ll be working over lunch, if that?s all you?ve done this morning,? Nigel smirks. I smile lamely.
?Actually, Nigel, I was wondering if I could take a slightly longer lunch today.? I?m trying to sound assertive, but I?m not sure it?s working. We published a CD-ROM once on business communications skills and it said that to be assertive you need to look people straight in the eye and never deviate from your message. But I hate looking Nigel in the eye. He?s got such thick glasses it?s difficult to properly see his eyes through the glare, and he?s generally got a huge spot somewhere on his face and I always end up looking at that instead.
?That will be quite impossible,? says Nigel flatly. ?We?ve got far too much work on.?
Okay, this isn?t going to be as easy as I thought.
?But I?ve got a hospital appointment at one, and I?ve really got to go,? I wail. I?ve simply got to make lunch with Mike. And while it said on the CD-ROM that you should never make an excuse (that weakens your position, apparently), I?m not deviating too much from my overriding message of needing to go early.
?A hospital appointment? For what??
I pretend to look embarrassed. ?Women?s stuff,? I whisper.
Nigel moves back quickly.
?Very well. You may leave at twelve-thirty, but I expect you to be back at your desk by two o?clock on the dot.?
Thank the Lord. I check that I?ve got my lipstick and mascara in my purse and go to the Ladies to get ready.
