When Gina walked into the office, Bernie spun around in her chair, phone to her ear. Her eyes went wide. She swivelled back the way she came and finished her call quickly. Then she spun back around, her grin wide, clearing her throat.
What just happened? Gina had no idea. She strolled over to the coffee machine and flicked it on. “You okay? Did I come back at an inopportune time?”
Bernie walked her way, shaking her head. When she grabbed a cup from the cupboard above the machine, she left it to dangle from her little finger. “Course not. Just didn’t expect you back so soon.” She peered closer. “Your squash injury is still showing.”
Gina frowned. “Stop changing the subject. Are you plotting my downfall?” She was keeping it light. She knew Bernie had her own life, but she wasn’t normally secretive.
“I love that you go there first.” Bernie shook her head. “It’s your birthday in May. Maybe I was planning a big cake to arrive with a scantily clad woman inside.”
“If you were, I’m walking out the door again, and please carry on with your ordering.”
Bernie gave her a grin. “I knew this whole ‘I’m taking time for me’ was all just an act.”
“If a woman jumps out of a cake and wants to seduce me, I’m not going to stand in her way. I’m only human.” Gina thought back to telling India she was only human on the rooftop a few weeks ago. She hadn’t seen her since, just exchanging a few emails after the price was agreed on for her new flat. Somehow, it wasn’t quite enough.
India was different to anybody she’d met of late. She was vulnerable, which was the last thing Gina had expected. She’d opened up. That wasn’t new. Gina had one of those faces, but it hadn’t happened in a while. India had lifted the lid on herself slightly. Now, Gina wanted to know more.
Gina retrieved her coffee from the machine. She waited for Bernie to get hers, then they walked back to their desks together. Bernie still had half a tuna baguette on it from lunchtime. Gina’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten lunch yet and it was already 2.30pm.
“Anything new come in today?”
Bernie nodded. “Something for you. I forwarded you the email. A new flat along the river in Rotherhithe, with a roof terrace and a log burner. Something for every season.”
“Are you meeting with those investors in the Tyler project today, too?”
“Yep.” She checked her watch. “Meeting them at five, could be a long one.” Bernie’s phone beeped. When she picked it up, she frowned. “Shit.”
“What’s up? Cake lady fallen through?”
Bernie gave her a forced smile. “Something like that.” She bolted her coffee, then winced. “That was hot.” She glugged some water, then stuck her tongue out, panting like a dog. “I gotta run. See you tomorrow.”
Gina clicked on the email about the new flat and glanced through the dodgy photos of the place. She’d have to get them redone before she listed the property. She squinted at them more closely. The kitchen looked like it might need to be ripped out, but she guessed the owner might be leaving that for the buyers to do. However, Gina was pleased to see her virtual assistant had already arranged for the deep clean of the flat to happen tomorrow. She’d no idea how she managed before she’d employed Amy.
Gina clicked through the photos again. The terrace looked out over rooftops. India would love it. She glanced around, but her office was internal, with no windows. She checked the weather on her phone. Fourteen degrees and cloudy. However, with coats, another terrace visit could be possible.
Gina scrolled to India’s number in her phone, then hesitated. Calling her would mean their relationship had progressed to another level. A friendship. She couldn’t be sure that was what India wanted, but she was compelled to try. Plus, hadn’t India said to call her for any rooftop action? Before her brain could stop her, her finger made the decision.
India answered after three rings. “Hello, stranger. More flat news?”
Gina’s cheeks burned. Was this a mistake? She glanced up at the photos and ploughed on. “Sort of, but not about yours. I’ve just been sent through the details of a place that’s getting all spruced up tomorrow, and I thought of you. It’s got a rooftop view and a log burner on the terrace.”
“Oh my god, I’m in. Should I buy this one, too?”
Gina paused. India could probably afford it.
“That was a joke, by the way.”
“Right.” Gina clicked back into her email inbox on-screen. “It’s probably silly, but I’m free tonight, and I just wondered if you fancied coming with me to see it. We could have a drink on the roof terrace, compare our weeks.” Now the words were coming out of her mouth, they sounded beyond ridiculous.
Or perhaps loaded.
Like she was asking India out on a date.
Which she totally wasn’t.
However, India immediately shut down Gina’s brain chatter. “I’d love to. Best offer I’ve had all week.”
Relief washed over Gina. “Great.” She tapped her fingers on her desk. “Shall I message you the address and we can meet there at seven?”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll bring a bottle.”
Something kicked inside Gina’s chest. “See you there.”
She hung up and stared at her phone. They’d just strayed beyond a client relationship for sure. They’d dipped a toe with their last rooftop soirée. But this time, they were definitely venturing onto a different playing field. It felt good.
A message came in from her VA, entitled ‘Strange Withdrawals’. Gina clicked on it. Amy had listed a series of withdrawals from their business account that were a little out of character. She was hot on that sort of thing, something else Gina appreciated.
Gina studied them. Twelve withdrawals of around £100. Nothing to break the bank, but then again, a steady depletion of funds. She made a note to ask Bernie what she was withdrawing the money for. She’d deal with it tomorrow.
Tonight, she had other plans.
India was standing slouched against her cherry-red Audi, hands pushed into her pockets when Gina pulled up. She cut the engine and took a moment just to stare. She was such a striking woman. Someone who looked like they knew what they wanted and went after it. Which is why knowing she had a softer side made Gina feel so connected. Let in. Special.
Special? She really needed to get a grip and be a little more professional before she launched herself into this evening.
Gina pulled down the driver-side mirror and dug out her makeup from her handbag. She’d taken her sister’s advice and added lipstick and foundation before she left. She touched up her lipstick now, then took a deep breath. It was just a flat check-up with a friend along for the ride. Nothing more.
She was friends with India Contelli. That was going to take some getting used to.
Gina grabbed her black bag from the passenger seat, then slammed her car door. She retrieved her coat from the back seat, then walked over to India, shivering.
When she saw her, India’s face broke into a smile. “You should put your coat on and not just hold it over your arm. It’s fairly common practice.”
Gina smiled. “I know. Let’s get inside and see if I need it. Some of these flats are ovens once you’re over the threshold.”
“Lead the way.”
They got into the private lift allocated to the penthouse of this apartment block, and were soon spat out into the sprawling flat. Gina’s eye was immediately drawn to the terrace, but the flat itself was in need of some love. The kitchen needed an update, its surfaces scratched. The sofa in the lounge sagged in the middle. It wouldn’t take much to make it sparkle again, but flats were like people — they needed love and attention, otherwise they went stale.
“This could be lovely.” India walked around the open-plan wide expanse. “The space is brilliant, but it’s like a time capsule from 1996. If the Spice Girls are on the terrace, I’ll know I’ve been punked.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re safe, but let’s look.” Gina unlocked the doors and they walked out. Across the river, old brown-brick warehouses had been turned into flats and hotels. To their left, Tower Bridge was small in the distance. Gina poked her head around the corner of the wrap-around terrace. “No Spice Girls, you’re safe.”
India pulled her coat tight as the wind whipped around their faces. “I would have been quite excited if it had been Geri. She was always my favourite.” She glanced at Gina. “You want to get your coat?”
Gina did, then reappeared, buttoning it up.
When she glanced up, India was giving her a soft smile.
“What?” Gina looked down. Had she done her buttons up wrong?
India shook her head. “Nothing. You just look…” She left the sentence hanging.
Gina narrowed her eyes. What was India trying but failing to say? Her ears tingled as warmth spread through her. Was India trying to give her a compliment? She had no idea.
“What do you think of this terrace?”
India blinked, then cleared her throat. “It’s wonderful. The terrace that time forgot.” She indicated to the lounge chairs. “Shall we pull them over to the edge? I brought coffee and biscuits. I figured we’re both driving, and you don’t want wine all the time.” India produced a shiny metal flask, some proper camping mugs and a packet of Chocolate Rockets.
Gina was touched. She pulled a chair over before she replied, “I can’t imagine you stopping off at Starbucks on your way here.”
India looked a little sheepish. “My assistant did the coffee, but I grabbed the biscuits from my stash.” She poured the coffee and handed Gina a mug.
She held it up. “Proper tin mugs, too.” Gina tilted her head. “Don’t tell me you’re a camping lesbian. You don’t look the type. My campdar isn’t that far off, is it?”
India cackled. “Your campdar — if that is a real word — is safe where it is. I’ve never camped, but my assistant clearly knows what she’s doing.”
Gina held up her mug, steam coming out the top. “Here’s to assistants everywhere. I don’t know what I’d do without mine, either.” They touched mugs, and took a sip. “By the way, my sister loves these biscuits.” Gina pointed at the packet on the table between them. “When she heard I’d met you, she was begging me to set up a hotline so she could order direct.” Gina decided not to tell India that Neeta had also wanted Gina to marry India. This was only their third meeting, after all.
“She’s not the only one. They’re our top seller. I’m hoping the Pride biscuits will be as big a hit, too. We’re calling them Rainbow Rings. What do you think?”
“They sound pretty gay to me.” Gina paused, staring across the river at Dryden Wharf. They fell into silence for a few moments, but it didn’t feel heavy at all. In fact, the opposite. As Gina stretched out in her lazy chair, all the stresses of the day seeped out of her. She should have started rooftop surfing a long time ago. “Do you know what the word ‘wharf’ stands for?”
India turned to her. “I don’t.”
“Warehouse at river front.”
India raised an eyebrow her way. “You are full of knowledge and surprises.”
“Blame my sister, Neeta. She’s a wealth of useless information.”
“Let me know her address. I’ll send her some biscuits.”
“She lives three floors below me.”
“Perhaps I can drop them off to you one day.”
Gina held India’s stare, the intention in the words leaping from her. Was India inviting herself to Gina’s? Gina was trying not to read too much into it, but she wasn’t doing too well. Her ears, which had tingled with heat earlier, were now roasting.
“Did I tell you I’m taking part in Pride this year?” India licked her lips as she spoke.
“You didn’t. I love their theme of ‘It’s Never Too Late’. I’m a walking example of that. I was thinking about volunteering, but I keep forgetting to sign up.”
India tilted her head in Gina’s direction. “I need volunteers for the Stable Foods bus if you want to do that? Bring your sister, too. It involves biscuits.”
Neeta would freak. “I’d love to.”
India gave her a sure smile, and something wobbled inside Gina.
“Good,” India replied. A few moments passed before she spoke again. “Have you heard about the long-lost love story this year? The 79-year-old whose letters have been found?”
Gina nodded. “Pretty incredible stuff.”
“I read them the other night. They’re so coded, so heart-breaking. I’m meeting the woman at the centre of the story soon. She’s called Eunice. I’m going to try to convince her she should appeal to see if her mysterious love, H, is still alive. What has she got to lose? If H doesn’t want to come forward, she doesn’t have to.”
Gina’s stomach rolled. “Coming out is never easy, though, is it? I only did it in my early 30s, and it was traumatic, wondering what everyone’s reactions would be, and how work would react. It was one of the reasons I wanted to run my own business. If I’m my own boss, I have none of those worries.”
India nodded. “I get that.”
“If I put myself in Eunice’s shoes… Coming out and then searching for a long-lost love after all this time… I can’t imagine how it would feel, even if the life she lived was happy.” Would she be kicking herself? Be embarrassed? Ashamed? A mix of all three? “If I saw this campaign, though, it would spur me to come out if I hadn’t already. Her story is romantic and hopeful, but it also serves as a warning to live your best life. Your true life.” Gina paused. “Going to meet her is exciting, though. Where does she live?”
“Birmingham.”
A punch to the gut. “My hometown.” Gina shivered, but not from the cold.
“Really? You’re a Brummie? You don’t sound like a Brummie.”
“I’ve lived in London far too long. That’s what my mum would tell you, anyway.” Gina rolled her eyes. “She constantly moans that my sister and I don’t visit enough. She’s right, but that’s how it is with family, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t know. I work with mine, and we see each other far too much.” But India’s grin told Gina she didn’t mind that one bit.
“I couldn’t imagine that. My parents, being first-generation Indian, aren’t so keen on me being gay. They’re slowly coming around to the idea, but it’s like moving an oil tanker. The fact I turned 40 and nothing’s changed might have influenced their decision.”
“Mine were a little flummoxed when both my brother and I came out, but they’re fine with it now. They have to be. There’s no other choice.” India gave a small laugh. “Did your parents meet your ex-girlfriend?”
Before Gina had a chance to reply, India shook her head. “What is it about us and rooftops? We start pouring out our life stories to each other. Just wait until I move into my flat. Although, perhaps that’ll get it out of our systems, then we can just have light-hearted chats and drink coffee and wine.”
Now it was Gina’s turn to laugh. “And biscuits I hope.” She paused. “But no, Sara never met my family, she was never that interested.”
India furrowed her brow. “You were going out for how long?”
“Eighteen months.”
“That’s a statement.”
“I never pushed it, but yes, you’re right. I think if my parents met someone, it might crystallise it in their heads, make it more real. Right now, my being gay is imaginary if I don’t have someone to be gay with.”
India shook her head. “Straight people never have to go through this, do they? It annoys the fuck out of me.”
“I gave up being annoyed at things I can’t change a while ago.”
India held Gina with her gaze. “I’m getting that about you. You have good energy.” She smiled. “If you’re ever pressed by a reporter, don’t tell them I said that. It sounds a bit woo-woo. They’ll paint me as a hippy.”
“There are worse things.”
“Not for a CEO of a multinational company. I work in a strait-laced world.”
“A shame for someone who’s not so straight.”
“Exactly.”
Gina glanced at her. “Do you get that a lot? Hassled by reporters? I’d hate that. I’m a very private person.”
India shook her head. “Not as much as some. I don’t live my life in the spotlight, so it’s not that difficult. If you’re not falling out of bars in the early hours or having public fights with your other half, they tend to leave you alone.” She paused. “It happened a lot more when I was with my ex, but now we’ve split up, it turned out it’s her they’re more interested in. She’s more in the public eye, being on the radio every day. I’m just a woman who makes biscuits and tells shop owners off. We’re not on the same level.”
“Sounds like your life’s simpler without her.” Gina couldn’t lie. She was also glad there was nobody else in India’s life. Not when it was just the two of them on a rooftop.
India stared, then nodded. “You’re right. It is.”
“I know since Sara and I parted, a weight’s been lifted.” Gina snagged India’s gaze. “Bernie told me Sara wasn’t right for me at the start, but I didn’t listen. She never liked her.”
“Sounds like Bernie is a smart cookie,” India replied. “I wish someone had told me that about Andi, but I probably wouldn’t have listened, just like you. We’re all stubborn, aren’t we? But I still believe there’s someone out there who’s perfect for me. All those love songs and sappy films can’t be lying, can they?”
Gina’s heart thumped in her chest as their gazes connected. It took everything she had to press it down and appear normal. India’s words were so open and honest. Gina wanted to reach out and run her fingers down India’s smooth cheek, and tell her it was going to be okay. That there was someone just for her. It might be in the last place she looked. Or it might be right under her nose.
Gina gulped at the thought. Right under her nose.
“I hope you’re right, for my sake, too,” she replied. “I’m pinning all my hopes on it.”