The week passed in a frenzy of activity at J&L Communications, the whole team were working around the clock to create the perfect pitch for a new home-furnishing brand. The office was full of employees working well into the night on Wednesday, surviving on numerous cups of coffee and regular deliveries of takeaway as they put the finishing touches to the campaign. Lucy was grateful for the distraction. It meant that she had less time to fret about Friday night.
She had hoped that the prospect of a date with Alex would stop her from thinking about Jack, but sadly this was not the case. She couldn’t stop herself from tracking his movement around the office with the diligence of a deranged stalker. It was as though she was fitted with a homing device fixed permanently on his whereabouts. She had perfected using only her peripheral vision to keep tabs on him, managing to fix her eyes on her computer whilst simultaneously tuning into his presence wherever he was in the large, open-plan room. She adored him even more when he was under pressure. He was what her dear mother Ginny would call a ‘silver fox’. She had to stop herself from staring at him in meetings. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to find out about her illicit crush; if Simon and Lettie knew, she would never hear the end of it. Lucy found the way he ran his fingers through his short, greying hair and rubbed his temples absurdly attractive. She longed to run over to him and take him in her arms. What was it about him? She strongly suspected that the fact that he was so clearly and completely taken was part of the appeal. It was ludicrous to even entertain the idea that she had feelings for him. He was married. And worse, he had two gorgeous children, whose gap-toothed grins in the photograph on his desk should have been enough to quell any amorous thoughts in an instant. She surmised that there must be something seriously wrong with her. Thank god she now had a legitimate prospect on the cards for once, to put an end to this madness.
On Friday morning she got dressed carefully, choosing a floaty emerald dress with a tie around the waist, some low heels and a pair of gold hoop earrings. A good night’s sleep had restored her flagging energy levels and reduced the size of the bags under her eyes. As she walked to the tube for her final commute of the week, she was filled with anticipation. Would he be just as she remembered? Where would they go? What would they do? She had received a lovely text from Alex the day before:
Hi Lucy. Looking forward to tomorrow evening. See you at 8pm by the statue of Eros. A x
Lucy hoped that his choice of the notorious statue of love was a promising sign of things to come.
The team was in a celebratory mood on Friday after a huge victory winning the pitch and the MD had filled the offices with cupcakes and wine to say thank you for everyone’s hard work. Lucy and Lettie passed the day munching on cake and gossiping, doing very little work having given themselves a day off ‘actual’ work. Simon gave Lucy his usual spiel about appropriate first date behaviour, though given that his love life was in a worse state than hers she largely ignored him. He did, however, tell her not to follow in his usual footsteps of trying to bed the man on the first date, suggesting that Alex may not respect her in the morning if she did so. Lucy reassured him that she had absolutely no intention of doing anything untoward, a chaste kiss would be the furthest she would go. In her experience anything more resulted in an immediate lack of interest. She was a firm believer in the old adage ‘treat them mean, keep them keen,’ acknowledging that treating them mean merely meant keeping them waiting! Men were simple creatures, after all!
At six o’clock she went to the wine bar next door where most of the office could be found on a Friday evening kick-starting the weekend with a pint or two, or in Lucy’s case, a huge glass of cold Sauvignon Blanc. As soon as she walked in she spotted Jack in the corner. Lucy resisted the urge to make a beeline for him; instead she talked to Mark, one of the directors, about his two daughters and cooed over photographs of their recent holiday to Greece. She could feel Jack’s eyes on her and tried hard to focus on the conversation she was having, knowing she would rather be talking to him. She got chatted up by bald Brian from HR, and tried to keep her eyes from roaming down to his distractingly large paunch lest he should take it as a sign of encouragement. After getting trapped with Marjorie from the sales team talking about her latest yoga retreat, she managed to excuse herself and make her way to the bathroom, realizing that she would need to leave soon to get to Piccadilly Circus in time. As she got to the top of the stairs, she bumped into Jack coming back up from the Gents.
‘Lucy,’ he said, ‘you’re here! Can I get you a drink?’
‘I’m about to head off actually,’ she said, resisting the urge to ditch her plans and spend the rest of the evening gazing into his steel blue eyes.
‘Off? What do you mean, off? You can’t leave!’ he said in mock horror. ‘We’re celebrating!’ He raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow suggestively.
‘Well I’m sorry but it can’t be helped! I’ve got plans.’ Feeling a bit mean, she added, ‘Congratulations on winning the pitch though, I thought it was amazing.’
‘It’s thanks to all of the team’s hard work that we won.’
‘And your winning powers of persuasion!’ laughed Lucy.
‘They don’t seem to be working very well on you. Where is it that you are running off to exactly?’ he asked.
‘I’m meeting someone for a drink.’
‘Aaah, a date?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Some guys have all the luck…’
‘You shouldn’t say things like that,’ Lucy said, secretly loving the flattery.
‘You’re right!’ he replied with a knowing twinkle in his eye. She could tell that he’d had a few drinks already.
‘Right, well I’d better go.’
‘Don’t!’ said Jack. ‘Stay…’
‘I really don’t think that would be a good idea!’ said Lucy. ‘Anyway, as I said, I’ve got plans. Have a good night!’ she said, pushing past him down the stairs, forcing herself to walk away. As she brushed past him, he grabbed her fingers and held on. She turned to look at him. She felt a shot of electricity pulse through her, the attraction she felt for him was real, there was no doubt about that. She let his hand drop and carried on down the stairs, determined not to look back.
Peering into the dimly lit mirror in the Ladies, Lucy gave herself a stern talking-to. Pushing all thoughts of Jack out of her mind, she focused on the evening ahead of her. She decided to refresh her make-up, hoping the dull light would not leave her resembling a cast member of TOWIE. She sprayed Chanel no.5 on her wrists and behind her ears then reached into each cup of her lacy bra to hoist up her boobs and give her more cleavage. She admired the effect of her readjustments. She felt confident, sexy and a little tipsy. The encounter with Jack on the stairs had bolstered her self-esteem. Dangerous though this flirtation was, she had to admit it felt good to be wanted. She was in the perfect mood for a first date.
With a final goodbye and good luck wishes from Lettie and Simon she headed for the door, dodging Brian on the way out.
The sense of calm she had felt at the bar disappeared as she sat on the tube, her Dutch courage was wearing off. All thoughts of Jack had disappeared as she relived each moment she had spent with Alex the previous Saturday. Her nerves jangled with every step she took as she climbed the stairs to exit the tube station. She wondered whether he would be there already, deciding that would be preferable to waiting around gormlessly for him to arrive. She navigated her way through the crowds surrounding the fountain, momentarily distracted by an incredible beat-boxing act busking in front of the famous neon signs. She looked around, trying to distinguish Alex from the masses, wishing he had chosen somewhere less hectic to meet. Suddenly she spotted him opposite the fountain. She stared at him for a few seconds, marvelling at his chiselled good looks and gearing herself up to approach him. She was glad she had come. Taking a deep breath, she walked towards him and called out his name.
Alex spun around, searching her out and crying ‘Lucy!’ with a huge smile as he came towards her. He kissed her on both cheeks, causing her stomach to flip over like a pancake as the memories of last Saturday night came flooding back.
‘You look stunning!’ he said as he ushered her away from the crowds towards Haymarket.
‘Thank you,’ Lucy replied. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself!’ she said. A huge understatement, she thought to herself.
‘I thought we could have a drink at this little wine bar I know,’ said Alex. ‘It’s got a fantastic roof terrace with an amazing view of the city.’
‘Sounds great!’ said Lucy, falling into step with him as they made their way down the busy road. Alex chivalrously ensured that he was on the side of the pavement facing the oncoming traffic. Lucy appreciated his good manners, one of the most attractive qualities in a man as far as she was concerned. They turned down a narrow, cobbled side street and came to the entrance of the bar.
A porter at the door tilted his hat and said, ‘Good evening, Mr Hayes, good evening madam.’ Lucy was impressed by the personal greeting.
‘I come here a lot with work,’ Alex said by way of explanation as they entered the lift, pressing the button for the top floor. ‘It’s a great place to try and impress clients… I’m hoping it’s going to have the same effect on you!’
As the doors slid open, they stepped into the room. A huge glass bar lay in a ‘U’ shape in front of them, surrounded by tables; a jazz pianist tinkled the keys of a grand piano over to the right. The opposite wall of the room was made entirely from glass, revealing an open-air terrace with spectacular, panoramic views of London. Lucy exclaimed in delight and headed straight through the open door to the railing to peer out over the city. The emerging stars twinkled above her, little pulses of light, and the street lights illuminated the surrounding buildings with a rosy glow.
She spun around to face Alex, saying ‘What a stunning view! I’m definitely suitably impressed.’ She saw a fleeting glance of relief flash over his face. He’s nervous too, thought Lucy, thrilled that she was capable of having that effect on him.
He asked her what she would like to drink and they made their way back inside to the bar. She ordered a gin and tonic and they took their drinks to a table near enough to hear the relaxing music from the piano, but still close enough to the window to admire the view. They toasted the end of the working week and laughed at stories from the wedding. Alex informed her that Claudia’s Uncle Alan had been found wandering through the town in the early hours of the morning singing ‘Lady in Red’ whilst dancing with an imaginary partner. Lucy burst out laughing at the thought.
‘I’ve been dying of jealousy all week at the thought of Claudia and Dan in the Maldives,’ moaned Lucy. ‘If she would stop sending me photos of her painted toenails with nothing but white sand and turquoise sea stretching beyond I would be extremely grateful! I mean, what is it with honeymooners, and in fact holidaymakers in general, about rubbing salt into the wounds of those of us stuck at work?!’
Alex laughed and asked her to show him the photos she had received. Lucy happily obliged, relishing the opportunity to lean closer to him, allowing his delectable smell to work its hypnotic magic on her. He snorted with mirth as he found a picture of Dan looking as red as a freshly cooked lobster and proceeded to tell Lucy about their post-finals trip to Malaga. One night, in the early hours of the morning, Dan had infamously passed out drunk on a pool-side lounger wearing nothing but his underwear, failing to rouse himself until midday. Unfortunately by this point he had managed to acquire third-degree burns all over his body and had been unable to wear clothes for the rest of the week. Lucy chuckled as Alex asked the waitress for another round of drinks. They regaled each other with stories about Claudia and Dan’s misspent youth, a surprisingly easy source of entertainment, it turned out. Lucy was sure that, given the cause, Claudia would forgive her for any indiscretions.
As they finished their G and Ts, Alex glanced at his watch. ‘I have booked a table at a great little place around the corner, but if you’d rather stay here, or if you have other dinner plans…?’ he trailed off, leaving the ball firmly in her court. Lucy was touched at his lack of assumption and appreciated his foresight in planning their evening so thoughtfully.
‘I’m starving,’ she said, ‘that sounds like a great idea!’
Alex paid for their drinks and escorted her down the stairs and across the road, guiding her through the backstreets of the West End to a small red-brick building. As she crossed the threshold of the restaurant, Lucy was immediately struck by the enticing smell of garlic. She loved the red and white chequered table cloths, the buzzing atmosphere of happy diners, the fairy lights strung haphazardly across the walls. They followed the waiter to their table and sat down as he gave them their menus and explained the day’s specials, catching each other’s eyes and sniggering at his absurdly fake French accent.
‘Poor thing,’ Lucy said. ‘You obviously have to be “French” to work here!’
Alex burst into a stream of stereotypical Frenglish, in an extremely over-the-top accent, culminating in ‘Would-a you like-a ze ketch-up wiz-a your steak and cheeps? What do you think?’ he asked. ‘Would I get the job?’
‘Definitely,’ Lucy chuckled, ‘I’d give you a job any day!’ The two gin and tonics had had a wonderful effect on her, she felt full of sparkling conversation and bags of energy. Actually, perhaps it was Alex’s impact, not the G and Ts, she thought.
A few minutes later, Gaspard, their waiter, came over and took their order. Alex chose a bottle of Côtes du Rhône, and they both ordered Coquilles St. Jacques followed by the steak and chips. As Gaspard poured their wine, Alex told her about his father, a wine expert who had taught him everything there was to know on the subject. Alex showed her how to swirl it properly in her glass to release the vapour, and told her to look out for the smell of spice. She inhaled and instantly identified it, surprised at herself.
‘Wow, you’re very good at this!’ she complimented him, relaxing into her chair. They chinked glasses and she took a sip, savouring the deep, peppery flavour as she rolled the wine around her mouth. She was really starting to enjoy herself.
A short while later, their starter arrived. The impeccably cooked scallops melted in her mouth, perfectly accompanied by the smooth and salty Gruyère cheese. She soaked up the remaining sauce from the shells with a piece of bread.
‘God, I love food,’ sighed Alex. ‘Especially French food.’
‘Mmm,’ agreed Lucy, ‘this is unbelievable. It’s been years since I have eaten scallops. Imagine life without food… it wouldn’t bear living!’
‘It’s so refreshing to meet a girl who enjoys eating proper food. I can’t tell you the number of dates that I’ve been on where the girl has just ordered a mixed salad with the dressing on the side. There is nothing more unattractive,’ Alex said firmly.
‘Well you certainly don’t have to worry about that with me… clearly!’ grinned Lucy, gesturing towards her empty plate.
‘Good!’ said Alex. ‘Is there anything about you that I’m not going to love?’
Lucy blushed at his compliment and shrugged, ‘I hope not!’ as Gaspard approached the table, asking ‘Ow were zee starters? You like?’ which prompted another set of conspiratorial winks and barely suppressed giggles.
As their juicy steaks arrived with baskets of stick-thin French fries, Alex asked Lucy to tell him about her family.
‘Siblings wise it’s just me and my younger brother Ollie, then there’s my mum Ginny and my dad Gus!’ Lucy told him. ‘They live down in Cornwall in a little village on the north coast, where I grew up.’
‘It’s so beautiful in that part of the world,’ Alex said. ‘We used to go on holidays to Devon when I was young, which I imagine is quite similar.’
‘Yes it is, very.’ Lucy nodded in agreement. ‘The rugged coastline full of wonderful little paths that almost propel you into the sea on a windy day!’
‘Pasties, clotted cream, fudge…’ said Alex.
‘Clotted cream ice-cream!’ said Lucy, dreamily.
‘Surfing on flimsy bits of polystyrene, salt water up your nose…’ said Alex, laughing. ‘Oh, the memories!’
‘Oh yes! Especially squeezing yourself into wetsuits you’ve long since outgrown.… in fact, when Ollie and I were really small, mum and dad refused to buy us new ones for years, so we had to slip carrier bags over our feet to reduce the friction and wrench ourselves in!’ Lucy remembered. ‘Such a palaver!’
‘What does Ollie do?’ Alex asked.
‘Oh, he’s sort of an eternal backpacker, really. He’s in Australia at the moment. He was doing some work on a cattle ranch last I heard, but really he just wants any excuse to avoid coming home and joining the “real” world. He’s still surfing mad; though I’m sure he doesn’t need a wetsuit over there! What about your family?’ enquired Lucy.
‘Well, there’s my father, Michael, the self-titled sommelier, and my mother, Lillian… she gave up banking to become a housewife, I’ve got two older sisters, Sarah and Isabel,’ explained Alex. ‘Sarah is the oldest at forty-two, she’s married to Nat and they have two children, a boy and a girl. Isabel is the middle child and she’s thirty-nine, she’s got a daughter too and is married to a guy called Nick. And I’m the youngest, clearly letting everyone down by not being married or having procreated yet!’ screeched Alex mischievously, clearly mimicking his mother.
‘Tell me about it! An unmarried daughter and a son living on the other side of the world… I’m sure my parents think we’ve got some kind of conspiracy theory against them having grandkids at all!’ Lucy rolled her eyes.
‘I propose a toast. To the reprobate offspring who have thus far failed to reproduce!’ announced Alex.
‘Hear, hear!’ concurred Lucy as their glasses met, chiming. Lucy hoped that Alex was in the same category as her, wanting to have children but waiting for the right person to come along before starting a family. She stopped herself short of asking him directly, for fear of sounding deranged.
For dessert they shared a lavender crème brûlée with two glasses of golden, syrupy pudding wine and Alex told her about his nephew and two nieces, whom he clearly adored. Lucy took this as a positive sign. He said that he loved buying them presents and always chose the most annoying ones with the special effects and noises, toys that were strictly banned when Uncle Alex was not around as they drove his sisters to distraction but definitely gave him huge brownie points from the kids.
Much later, realizing that they were the last table there and that the waiting staff were setting up for the next day’s lunch shift, Alex asked for the bill. He batted away Lucy’s hand as she offered to pay half, insisting that it should be his treat.
Wrapping their jackets around them, they stepped out into the coolness of the night, a swollen moon hovering above them as they made their way to the nearest tube station. Alex took hold of her hand and she enjoyed the reassuring presence of his palm against hers, smooth and warm.
As they approached the tube, Lucy said, ‘I’ve had such a great time tonight. Thank you so much.’
‘It’s been fun, hasn’t it?’ agreed Alex, stopping on the side of the dimly lit street and turning to face her.
Lucy was aware of the traffic whizzing past on the main road up ahead and was grateful that they were on a quiet street with no one to disturb them. She nodded in agreement, suddenly aware of how much taller he was than her. He stood in front of her, strong and steady, his brown eyes looking intently at her under thick black lashes.
Still holding her hands, he said, ‘I would very much like to see you again. Would that be okay with you?’
Lucy muttered, ‘I’d love to,’ sure beyond certainty that he must be able to hear her heart, which by now was hammering on her ribcage like a bird trying to escape from captivity.
He held her gaze and said, ‘Good,’ brushing her fringe away from her eyes, then he slowly lowered his face to hers. He grazed his lips gently against her mouth, cupping her chin in one hand as he did so. At the touch of his lips, Lucy’s stomach did a back flip; she felt as though she had been plugged into the mains as electricity shot through her. Noticing her reaction from the wide-eyed expression on her face, Alex smiled, and, holding her firmly with his free arm, he kissed her again, softly at first and then more passionately. Each tantalizing kiss dissolved into the next one; the spicy smell of his aftershave made her dizzy as he kissed her on and on. She thought she might collapse with longing. Eventually, she pulled away. Finding inner strength from god knows where, she steadied herself against his chest. Breathless, they grinned at each other and, without a word, walked hand in hand to the tube.