The room was already full of people, buzzing from the prospect of free drinks and payday, and she scanned it quickly, looking for his face among the crowds. She felt disappointment kicking in when she realised that he wasn’t there. Still, the night was young, so she got herself a gin and tonic and went to mingle with some of the PAs, who had always been friendly enough to her. As she half-listened to their tales of photocopier woes, she continued to watch the room but he never came and after an hour and a half, she’d had enough. She made her excuses and left, feeling annoyed with herself for even caring.
Over the weeks that followed, Pete started to come into work early more often. Meetings, client calls to prepare for, lots to catch up on, he always had an excuse. She had given up on the lip gloss. His visits to the front desk started to last longer. One day he brought in pastries, proffering the bag of warm, tasty indulgences at her before helping himself and leaning against the desk with one elbow to eat it. She told him that almond croissants were her favourite and the next day he brought one in for her. These small gestures lingered on her mind for the rest of the day.
In her defence, she hadn’t known he was married at first. She had figured he was about ten years older than her but he didn’t wear a ring and many men of his age were unmarried or divorced. It was only when he mentioned a skiing holiday he’d been on with his wife and kids that the penny dropped and she felt a crushing sense of disappointment that she couldn’t explain, given that this was meant to be a harmless crush. For the rest of that day she felt grumpy and she went home that evening and opened a bottle of wine, her mind whizzing through the possibilities. Was he trapped in an unhappy marriage? Was he a serial adulterer? Or was he simply making polite conversation with her and she was being an idiot for thinking that it was something more? She didn’t know the answer yet, but she realised that she wanted to find out. It’s still just a game, she told herself, a bit of attention, something to pass the time at work, nothing more. But by the time the next Free Drinks Friday came about she couldn’t resist asking him if he was planning to go.
‘Oh, those things? I never go,’ he said, rolling his eyes. Then he seemed to think about it again and added quickly, ‘Maybe I’ll pop in tonight. It’s good to do some networking.’
She knew she shouldn’t do but she felt ridiculously excited all day, a sense of anticipation growing inside her, butterflies fluttering around her stomach. The evening could not come soon enough. As soon as the clock hit 5pm she was out of her chair and in the loos faster than Usain Bolt, brushing her teeth, reapplying her make-up and spraying perfume. She got herself a drink and found some people to chat to while she awaited his arrival. She smiled and laughed at the right points in the conversation but she was distracted, looking around constantly for him. An hour passed and then a second hour. As the night progressed, she felt herself getting more drunk and more disappointed. Neither were what she’d had planned for the evening. Finally, she’d had enough and made her excuses before walking back through the reception area towards the revolving doors which would take her out of this stupid bubble of a life she had created in this building and back to reality again.
‘Leaving so soon?’
Her stomach lurched at the sound of his voice and she turned around to see him looking at her and grinning, ruefully – she thought, although she couldn’t tell with him yet. And looking so bloody hot. That was the moment, she realised on the way home, the moment when she knew that she was going to sleep with him. But it wasn’t going to be that night because she was too annoyed. So she simply replied: ‘Yes, got other plans, enjoy!’ swung on her heel and walked away, leaving him standing there and, she sensed, watching her go.
On Monday he was at the office at 8am with an almond croissant and she felt almost immediately that something unspoken had shifted between them. Over the following weeks their conversations became more intimate, the tiny flirtations that had been so subtle at first suddenly seemed more obvious. When the next Free Drinks Friday was announced, he forwarded the email to her, simply saying: ‘Going?’ She knew she was grinning like an idiot as she hit reply and typed: ‘Yep’. It was the first and only email he ever sent her. That evening when she entered the bar, everything felt different. She saw him almost immediately, chatting easily to some colleagues. She caught his eye as she walked past him towards the bar to order a drink and within seconds he was by her side, as she had known he would be. He ordered a gin and tonic for her and a beer for himself before turning to look at her.
‘You’re looking very pretty,’ he said and the line took her back to that film, Love Actually, when Alan Rickman has a thing with his PA, and without even thinking she leaned in and whispered the line from the film in his ear: ‘It’s all for you.’ Pulling back she looked at his unreadable face and panicked for a second, worried that she had gone too far and scared him off.
Then, without any visible reaction,
