I put a hand up to the air again. No, Michelle. Never tell me that, ever.
She cackles and finishes the last bit of my doughnut. ‘But it all started with a little spark. That’s all I’m saying. Despite everything that’s gone a bit wrong so far, Cameron could be your great love. Was it a good kiss?’
‘Yes.’
She wrinkles her nose at me for not regaling any more detail. But it was one of those kisses you think about too much. When you’re alone in bed, fantasising about what could have come next: some casual, made-up movie in my head where we jumped in a taxi that was serendipitously waiting there, back to my room (my parents not downstairs watchingPeaky Blinders, obviously) and had the best sex. Sex which is intuitive, where you orgasm without even having to tell the other person what to do, where your boobs look pert and nice, and you laugh and hold each other like you’re one and the same.
And at that precise moment, my phone rings.
Cameron. Calling.
Bloody hell. If the staff downstairs didn’t know Michelle and her excitability well enough, they would think she’s having an orgasm in this office with the way she’s shrieking. I stare at the phone. This is just coincidence. I’ve had this before when I’ve been craving pizza and my Mum gets a margarita in without me telling her.
‘Answerit, answerit, answerit,’ she says, jigging on the spot. ‘It’s the universe. This is a sign.’
I still stare at the phone. I don’t quite know what to do. How many rings before he gives up? Or leaves a voicemail? Who cold-calls someone like this? Maybe he’s ringing in the workday as he knows he can leave a message, so I should leave him to it. But Michelle won’t let it go.
‘Good morning, this is Josie’s phone,’ she says, putting her finger to the green call icon.
I don’t even have the chance to grab the phone off her, though I am immediately impressed by her ability to switch from screechy banshee to professional office person. She puts the phone on speaker and trots to the other side of the office.
‘Oh… hi. This is Cameron. I’m a friend of Josie’s…’
A friend, she mouths, impressed.
I shake my head at her, slowly. I am so going to cut your doughnut allowance after this.
‘Josie is with a client right now. I’m her PA, can I maybe help?’
‘Oh no, I can message her. I was just wondering if she was free for lunch? Is she busy today?’
Michelle pretends to think, a finger to her cheek. ‘Let me just check her diary.’ There is no diary, but Michelle pretends to flick through the imaginary pages of one. ‘Actually, after this business meeting, she has a window and, between you and me, she works too hard. She needs a break.’
I hear him laugh quietly on the other end of the phone.
‘Do you like Mexican food, Cameron?’
‘Ummm, yes. I do.’
‘Then do you know Wimbledon at all? In the village, there is a new street food restaurant called Mi Corazon. I am going to tell her to meet you there for 12 p.m. Does that work for you?’
There’s a pause as he takes in this very efficient PA who books in my meals. I blush from how cringeworthy this all is.
‘I need to be somewhere for 3 p.m., so that’s perfect. I think I know it. Are you sure she’ll be fine with this?’
‘I do this all the time for her. Otherwise, she’ll end up eating a Snickers and a banana at her desk.’
He laughs again. I don’t because this is true and it suits me just fine. Also, I’m not dressed for a cute lunch date. I’m dressed for Monday; I haven’t even accessorised.
‘I’ll even book a table for you guys. No worries. She will see you later, Cameron!’
‘OK then, mystery PA lady.’
‘My name is Michelle.’
‘Nice to meet you, Michelle. Cheers! Bye!’
He hangs up and Michelle dances around the room once more. I watch as she holds my phone high into the sky.
