I glance around the room again, praying Jennifer is in her office, or too busy to notice I’ve just come in. And then I spot her – thankfully deep in conversation in the meeting room. I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding. It looks like I’ve got away with it, so maybe I can even grab a coffee before I start, as I didn’t get the chance to make one before I left the flat.
‘Coffee, anyone?’ I mouth at Faye and Molly, already halfway out of my chair.
Faye smiles and nods.
‘Please,’ Molly adds.
I head toward the kitchen area, my mind already drifting to my plan for tonight – for my date. Well, my sort of date.
I hover in the kitchen area, and as I wait for the coffee machine to warm up, I aimlessly glance toward the meeting room, just to be nosy really.
Ugh, Steve is talking. Just the sight of him gives me the ick in every way imaginable these days. The harder he tries to get me to like him again, the less I’m interested.
We weren’t even really a couple; we just dated for… what, a few weeks, max? It didn’t last long enough for me to recall exactly how long it went on. But when I needed a place to stay, he swooped in with an offer, acting like it was no big deal, just a friend helping out a friend. We’d been over for ages by then, and he made it seem so innocent, and I really was grateful.
Now, though, it annoys me. The whole thing was a trap. He thought he could lure me back in, save the day, and win me over. To be honest, one of the reasons I’m still there is probably because of the fact that he only did it to manipulate me – it serves him right. I’m saving up, to get my own place – which is easier when you live rent-free – but once I have enough, I’m out of there.
I’m about to get back to making the coffee when something catches my eye in the meeting room. The back of a man’s head – broad shoulders, familiar hair… No, it can’t be. But that neck, that body language, even the way he’s tilting his head slightly. I suddenly feel like I can smell his aftershave, which is impossible, right? I mean, even if it washim– which it most likely isn’t – there’s no way I’d be able to smell him through the bloody wall. Still, I can’t stop staring, not because I think it’s him, but because I really, really wish it was.
I often think about him, about how amazing things were when we were together. No one has measured up to him since. Sure, it was for the best that we parted ways when he went back to London, but the best thing generally isn’t always the best thing for you personally, is it?
The meeting looks like it’s coming to an end. People start standing up, gathering their things, and I keep one eye on the door, stirring my coffee more than it really needs. And then the man turns around, and my breath catches in my throat. It is him. It’s Ethan, and he’s heading this way.
Panic literally jolts through me, and before I can steady myself, I knock over a mug, sending it crashing to the floor. The noise is loud enough to make everyone around me turn their heads to see what it was. Great, Lana. Just great. Ten out of ten, as usual.
But at least the awkwardness is out of the way now. He’s seen me. I’ve seen him. And now he’s coming over to say hello, and…
‘Hi,’ I say, probably a little too brightly.
He laughs and it feels like a punch to the stomach.
‘Hello, still causing trouble, I see,’ he replies.
‘You know it,’ I reply, smiling back at him. ‘Still trying to work here, I see…’
He laughs again. God, I’ve missed that laugh.
‘I think I’m finally getting somewhere,’ he says with a grin. ‘You’re looking good.’
‘Thanks,’ I reply, trying to keep my tone casual. ‘You too.’
He isn’t just looking good; he’s looking phenomenal. Better than he did two years ago, if that’s even possible. It’s somehow both wonderful and devastating to see him again. Of course, I want him more than ever, but seeing him here, in this office of all places, reminds me of why we parted ways. We were nothing but trouble together, a dangerous mixture of chemicals that was always going to explode.
‘How have you been?’
‘So, how are you?’
Our questions collide in mid-air, overlapping in a way that makes us both laugh. There’s this strange mix of familiarity and awkwardness between us, like we’re trying to pick up from where we left off, but we can’t quite do it.
Before either of us can say anything more, Steve rocks up alongside us, clearly muscling his way in to see what’s going on.
‘Hello,’ he says – how did I ever tolerate his voice because lately it just makes me mad?
Oh, God, not right now, Steve.
‘Lana,’ he continues, not waiting for a reply – and louder now, like he’s making an announcement. ‘Can you get us some toilet roll on the way home, please? You wiped the last one out this morning.’
My eyes widen in horror, and I feel my face flush. That absolutely did not happen, and I can see exactly what he’s doing. He’s trying to embarrass me in front of Ethan, mark his territory, point out that we live together in the hope it puts him off. But I know better than to let him rattle me.
