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“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU on Friday night?” Callie asked as Olivia slipped into her seat at her desk. “Meeting some hot guy and then vanishing on us.”
Liv laughed and held up her hands in defence. “We shared a bottle of wine, and talked.”
Her colleague gave a cheeky smile. “And then?”
“I went home.”
Callie lifted her eyebrows as though to say, oh yeah?
“Alone!” she protested. “I swear.”
The older woman sat back in her seat. “Well, that’s disappointing. I was hoping for some juicy gossip.”
“Nothing exciting happened with the rest of you guys after I left?”
“No, Ellen called Ryan to come and pick her up, so she disappeared with him. Stevie and Philip vanished off somewhere together. I ended up eating a kebab at two-thirty in the morning and waking up with half of it stuck to the side of my face.”
Liv laughed. “Oh, nice.”
“Yeah.” She grimaced. “Don’t let me do tequila shots again.”
Ellen arrived in the office late, flustered and frantic, and making noises about bad traffic, even though she could have just as easily caught the Tube rather than Ryan driving her.
“You heard from Mr Handsome again?” she called over to Liv, once she got settled.
Liv shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “It’s only Monday. Give the guy a chance.
“Just asking! I thought after his goodnight text, he might have been eager.”
“Too eager isn’t good,” she said, though deep down she wished he’d texted her again. Sure, she could always text him, but she didn’t like to be the one to do the chasing.
Liv settled into work, catching up on emails and returning phone calls she’d missed. They’d had a couple of new listings over the weekend, and she needed to make sure the properties were all showing on the relevant websites.
A number she didn’t recognise lit up on her mobile, but she answered, expecting it to be a client. “Olivia Midhurst speaking.”
A male voice spoke. “Hi, Olivia, it’s Michael from the other night. I hope you don’t mind me calling.”
She sat back in surprise, her stomach doing a flip. “Michael? No, of course not. Your number didn’t come up on my phone.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I’m calling from my work phone.” He paused, and she wondered what he was going to say. “Um, I know it’s short notice, but I wondered if you’d like to meet for lunch? I was supposed to be meeting a client, and he’s cancelled on me. I have a table booked in a restaurant around the corner from Covent Garden. It seems a shame to let the booking go to waste—you have to book several weeks in advance. But I understand if it’s too short notice.”
“No, no, not at all.” She caught Ellen’s eye across the office and pointed at the phone while mouthing ‘it’s him’ at her. Ellen’s face lit up, and she grinned and gave Liv a double thumbs up.
“What time?” she asked, smiling down the phone.
“One o’clock.”
“Perfect.”
He gave her the address. She wished she’d put more effort into choosing her work clothes that morning—a white shirt with a tulip skirt and heels.
Ellen came over to help her get ready, and undid a couple of the top buttons of her shirt, and rifled through her makeup bag for some red lipstick. “There. You look gorgeous. The epitome of a modern businesswoman.”
“Thanks. I hope I don’t scare him off.”
“If a man can be scared off by a strong woman, then he’s not man enough for you, anyway.”
“Thanks.”
She glanced over at Tony’s closed office door, hoping he hadn’t noticed her making the extra effort. She could always say she was going to meet a new client—someone who was interested in their agency to manage a string of investment properties, perhaps—but she didn’t like lying to him. He’d done her a favour by giving her the job in the first place, and besides, there were enough lies in her life without adding more. But her boss’s door remained shut, and she figured she’d get away with sneaking out, just as long as she wasn’t too long.
***
OLIVIA WALKED INTO the restaurant, scanning the crowd. She suddenly realised she didn’t know Michael’s surname. She wouldn’t be able to tell the hostess what name he’d booked under, other than Michael. She didn’t want to end up looking silly and out of place. That imposter syndrome was coming into play all over again.
She hesitated near the doorway, frantically hoping she would spot him. She breathed out a sigh of relief as he half stood from a table near the back, his hand lifting to signal her.
The hostess approached. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, that’s okay. I already spotted him.”
The hostess gave her a nod and a smile and left Liv to wind her way through the busy lunchtime crowd. It was loud in the restaurant, everyone talking at once, glasses clinking, and knives and forks striking plates. Below the clamour, music played, but it was too faint for her to recognise.
Her smile widened as she approached Michael. He wore a dark suit with a tie which had threads of pink running through it for a playful splash of colour. He was just as handsome as she’d remembered, perhaps even more so. As he smiled in return and leaned in to kiss her cheek, his hand pressing into the small of her back, a waft of expensive aftershave filled her senses.
“Olivia,” he said. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself. Are you always so smartly dressed?”
He chuckled. “I do wear clothes other than a suit, I promise. I will have to take you out one weekend when I’m allowed to be more casual.”
Her heart hummed at the mention of him wanting to take her out again. They hadn’t even started this date yet.
He pulled her chair out for her, and she took a seat. She wasn’t used to men treating her with such old-fashioned gestures, and couldn’t decide if it was sweet or made her feel awkward. Maybe a little of both.
To hide her discomfort, she picked up the menu and studied it.
“The Carpaccio of beef looks amazing,” she said, thinking she didn’t want to order anything too heavy for a lunch dish.
“Mmm, it does look good.” He looked up at her, his dark eyes fixing on hers. He was intense, in a way she felt he was looking at her too deeply, and held eye contact for a little longer than was truly comfortable. “Don’t you think we’re eating too much meat now, though? It’s been all over the news about how bad it is for us, and the environment. Did you know they liken eating a piece of bacon to being as bad for us as smoking a cigarette?”
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t know that. How awful.” She resisted adding, I love bacon.
He maintained eye contact. “So, you’ll have the salmon instead?”
“Oh, I ... Yes, well, the salmon looks delicious as well.”
He smiled, and she was relieved when he finally looked away. “Excellent.” He lifted a hand and signalled over to the waitress. “Two salmon Carpaccio, and we’ll need a good white wine to go with that.”
“I shouldn’t drink,” she said. “I have to get back to work.” Her job was important to her, even though being an estate agent often meant she was the butt of jokes, and she didn’t want to do anything to mess it up.
“Nonsense. You can’t have lunch without white wine. It’s practically law.” He flashed her that perfect white smile, and she found herself agreeing. One glass of wine wasn’t going to hurt. She’d drink plenty of water with it, and chew some gum before she got back into the office.
The waitress returned with the bottle of wine, but just set it down with the glasses, rather than making them go through the awkward tasting routine. Michael removed the bottle from the cooler and poured them both a glass.
“To second dates,” he toasted, and they clinked glasses.
“Is this our second?” she asked, tilting her head to one side as she smiled at him. “Does Saturday night count as a first date?”
“Oh, absolutely. And I hope I’ll get a third and forth date, too.”
His phone, which sat beside him on the table, buzzed, and he glanced down at it, a frown marking his brow, his lips pinching.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yes ... Well ... Yes, it’s fine.”
“If you need to make a call, I don’t mind.”
He glanced up at her, and she could see he was anxious. Perhaps he didn’t want her to think he was being rude, but then she didn’t want him to think she was completely uptight. This was a lunch date in the middle of a working day. She hoped if something urgent came up, he wouldn’t mind her making a call either.
“Honestly, it’s fine,” she encouraged. “It’s work. I get it.”
“Are you sure?”
She waved a hand at him. “Absolutely.”
Relief relaxed his features and his shoulders dropped. “Thank you. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
Michael pushed back from the table and got to his feet. He gave her another apologetic smile before striding across the restaurant, already swiping the screen of his mobile phone to bring up a number before putting it to his ear.
Olivia took a sip of her wine and waited. She checked her phone, quickly scanning social media for anything exciting, and made sure she didn’t have any messages of her own. She’d sneaked out of work, after all, to have this lunch date. Her boss wouldn’t be too happy if he found out she’d left early to get here.
Their food arrived, the waitress slipping the plates onto the table. At least the meals were chilled, so she didn’t need to worry about the food getting cold while she waited. She twisted around in her seat to see Michael pacing the street, the phone still clamped to his ear.
Should she start? She didn’t have any viewings that afternoon and was only working on more paperwork. Not that she normally needed to drive, anyway. The agency had a car which the staff were able to use if one of the properties they were managing was out of the way, but mainly they either walked to the location or caught the Tube. That was the thing about working in London—most of the time it was faster and cheaper to just catch the Tube rather than sitting in traffic and going through the nightmare of trying to find somewhere to park.
She took another sip of the wine and realised she’d almost finished the glass already and she hadn’t even eaten anything yet. The warm buzz of alcohol made her mind cloudy, but it didn’t take away from the fact she was feeling awkward and out of place. The waitress kept glancing over, perhaps wondering if she should take the food away.
Olivia busied herself with buttering a piece of bread and taking small bites, alternating with some sips of water. She almost laughed. She was out at a fancy restaurant and was dining on bread and water.
The time ticked by both painfully slowly and equally too fast. If she didn’t get back to work at a reasonable time, Tony was bound to start asking questions. She didn’t want to get in trouble.
She glanced over her shoulder again, hoping to catch Michael’s eye and get some indication about what she should do. If he made a gesture to tell her to start, at least she wouldn’t feel as though she was being rude by eating without him, but he continued to pace, not even glancing in her direction. Her awkwardness was building to panic now, her stomach tightening, so she wasn’t sure she’d even be able to eat when he did eventually come back into the restaurant. All she wanted was to be out of the situation, but indecision pinned her to the spot. She couldn’t even escape to the toilet, knowing it would look strange to leave two untouched meals sitting on the table. The staff would probably think she’d left without paying.
Simply to have something to do, she picked up the bottle from the cooler and poured herself a second glass of white wine.
“Everything okay with your meals?” the waitress asked as she wandered past the table, clearly sensing something was wrong.
“Oh, yes, fine. My date’s got caught up in a business call. I’m sure he’ll be done soon.”
Liv drank the second glass too quickly. She was feeling a little drunk now, and she picked at the fish. It looked too raw, and her stomach lurched.
There was a flash of movement near the table, and Michael slid back into the seat opposite. He immediately picked up his fork. “I am so sorry. I had no idea that was going to take so long.”
“Everything all right?” she asked, hoping her words didn’t come out slurred from the wine.
He grimaced. “Could be better.”
He took a couple of mouthfuls of the salmon and washed it down with the wine. “You should have started without me.”
“It’s okay. I wasn’t that hungry, anyway.”
She forced herself to eat something, but her anxiety had taken hold now.
“I hate to do this to you,” he said, “but I’m going to have to take off. I’ve got some stuff back at the office I need to deal with.”
“Oh, right.” Her fuzzy brain told her she should be having more of a reaction, but she couldn’t quite muster the energy.
“Let me make it up to you, one evening this week. No work phone calls, I promise.”
Olivia forced a smile. “Sure, that would be lovely.”
She went to stand up with him, but he put his hand out. “Stay where you are. Finish your meal.” He slid some notes under a saucer. “That should be plenty to cover the bill.”
“I can pay for my own meal,” she protested.
“Not at all. I wouldn’t hear of it.”
He leaned in again and kissed her cheek. “I really am terribly sorry about this, Olivia. I feel wretched.”
“It’s fine,” she said again, only wanting him to leave now, so she could escape as well. She’d gone from feeling excited and nervous, to being slightly drunk and deflated. She only wanted to go and hide somewhere no one would be able to look at her.
“I’ll call you, then.”
“Great.”
She watched as he turned and left. The moment he’d vanished from the restaurant and turned the corner, she bent to gather her bag. Wooziness washed over her, and she straightened again, clutching the edge of the table to steady herself, the tablecloth white and starched beneath her fingertips.
“Everything okay?” the waitress asked her, and Olivia looked up to see her standing in front of her, a concerned expression on her young features.
“Oh, yes, fine. Something came up.” She pushed the notes Michael had left across the table toward her. “Keep the change.”
Liv got to her feet and hurried from the restaurant.