sit with my image of myself as a girl-about-town. But there?s no way I?m going to let Mike think he?s hit a sore point.
?Look,? I say defensively, noticing that the restaurant is getting very hot. ?You have no right to say anything about David, or to ask about us being together. You left, remember, and you didn?t even have the guts to tell me to my face. You are a pig and an idiot, and I don?t know why I?m even here.? My voice has taken on a slightly squeaky tone, so I stop talking and give him one of my best ?I am really far too busy for this conversation? looks.
But Mike grins again like he?s pleased with himself for getting a rise out of me, and before I can stop myself my lips start curling upward. God, he?s sexy. I mean, obviously he?s a total bastard, but the two aren?t mutually exclusive, are they? I make myself look cross with him. The last thing I want is for him to realize that I still think he?s utterly gorgeous.
The food arrives and I gratefully start to eat. Actually it?s delicious. I love restaurant food. I would eat out every day and every night if I could. And when I couldn?t be bothered to go out, I?d order in. I have friends who are great cooks, but all that chopping and marinating is just so boring, especially as nothing I cook ever turns out like it should. I?m only interested in the Jamie Oliver?style chuck-it-in-a-pan-and-hope-for-the-best cooking, but whenever I?ve tried chucking it all in, I end up with some sort of hideous, tasteless muck. I blame my mother, of course. She doesn?t cook either, except for souffle. I think she figured that as no one else can do a good souffle, it was something worth working at. Everything else she leaves to Marks & Spencer?s or Harrod?s Food Hall.
I look up to see Mike watching me closely. He picks up his glass.
?To old friends??
I hesitate. Am I really ready to forgive and forget?
?Look Georgie, I?m sorry, okay? You?re right. I was a total prick. Can?t we be friends again??
Put like that I can?t really say no, can I? I mean, he?s admitted that he?s wrong and he?s even apologized. I pick up my glass, and as I take a sip Mike winks at me.
?You seem really happy. Life with an accountant obviously agrees with you. Do you think David will mind us being friends??
?Of course David won?t mind,? I say, maybe a bit too quickly. Mike drains his glass.
?Well, I think we?ll be needing some more champagne then!?
I consider pointing out that I?ve barely started my first glass, but I don?t want to appear churlish. And anyway, if Mike wants to spend money on champagne, who am I to stop him?
I empty my glass as quickly as I can and Mike pours me a second glass. By the time the main course arrives with another bottle of bubbly I?m pretty drunk, and am happy to sit and listen to Mike tell me about his grand plans for world domination. Or London domination at any rate.
?I?m going to have my bands playing at every venue. Record shops are going to be full of their albums. I?m going to be on the cover ofMixmag ,Mojo ,NME . . .?
It?s impressive, it really is. I mean, he is so enthusiastic about what he?s doing. I?m just about to tell him how pleased I am that he?s doing so well when his hand swoops down and grabs mine.
?Georgie, I?ve missed talking to you, y?know??
I look at his hand. I wish someone was here to witness this. Like his bitch girlfriend or someone who will tell her. I?m not a horrible person, but having Mike put his hand on mine like that in public is quite satisfying. I notice the girl a few tables away looking at us and I shoot her a triumphant look.
?Really? Don?t you talk to your girlfriend??
Mike pauses. ?I don?t have a girlfriend,? he says, looking at me intensely. ?No one else has ever been like you.?
Not like me how, I want to ask. Not like me because they are all stupid and ugly and crap in bed, or not like me because they aren?t total suckers who need two glasses of champagne to forget just how callous you can be?
?I?d like to see you more.? He?s stroking my hand now. I shouldn?t have got drunk. I?m enjoying this and I came here to remind Mike just what he?s missing out on, not to let him think he can get it back whenever he wants. Think of David, I tell myself. Think of the note Mike left on the table. Think how he never even called.
?Well, I?m sure that can be arranged.? I didn?t mean to say that.
I look down at his hand. His tanned, soft hand. I?m just about to start stroking it when I notice his watch. Oh my God, it?s already two-thirty! I meant to be back at work half an hour ago!
?Look, I?ve got to go.? I stand up hurriedly.
?Really? You don?t have to go right away, do you??
?Yes, yes,? I say irritably, pulling on my coat. Nigel is going to completely freak.
I leave. But not before giving Mike my mobile number. Just in case.
==================================
ABC Amber LIT Converter v2.02
================================== 3
I get back to the office, aware that I?m just a teeny-weeny bit drunk. I gear myself up for a huge confrontation with Nigel??You know what hospitals are like . . . I was waiting for two whole hours . . .??but to my huge relief he isn?t at his desk. According to Denise he?s in a meeting with Guy.
I flick on my computer and go straight to e-mail. I have five new messages.
DAVID BRADLEY: Hi darling. Fancy an Italian tonight? Failing that, what about an Englishman?! See you later? David x
ANDREW KNIGHT: TO ALL AT LEARY: Can the person who keeps using my mugs and not washing them up
