We Just Clicked: Fall in love with the most hilarious and heart-warming rom-com of the year!

by Anna Bell

  ‘I’ll get the drinks, you ladies get a table. What are we drinking?’

  ‘I’ll have a Coke,’ I say.

  ‘A Coke, OK, are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah, school night and all. Marissa wanted a fizzy water.’

  ‘Cheap round, and you, Bec?’

  ‘I’ll have a glass of Malbec, thanks.’

  We find a table near the window and sit down.

  ‘So, he seems nice,’ I say.

  I watch him at the bar, gesturing politely to the barman and smiling as he orders. He looks like an accountant, even though it’s the weekend. He’s got neat-looking jeans on and fitted V-neck jumper. He seems nice and safe and stable, which is probably exactly what Becca needs.

  ‘He is, he’s really nice. I just wasn’t expecting you to meet him just yet.’

  ‘We had to meet him sometime.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ she says in an almost whisper before leaning across the table. She keeps looking over her shoulder at Gareth. ‘It’s just I didn’t expect it to be now and he doesn’t exactly know… everything.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She looks sheepish. ‘I told him that I was in a serious relationship and living with someone before, but that’s it.’

  ‘He doesn’t know about Ben?’ I say, gasping.

  She closes her eyes for a second before she looks straight at me. ‘No. I sort of missed my chance. Bringing up the fact that your fiancé died isn’t really the kind of thing that goes down well on a first date. I tried that once before with that Tinder guy, do you remember?’

  I nod. I remember cuddling her as she cried when he didn’t want to see her anymore because she had ‘too much emotional baggage’.

  But whilst I can understand that it might not be the first thing she told him, I would have thought they’d have talked about it by now.

  ‘So in the whole time you’ve been dating there hasn’t been a good time to tell him?’

  She shakes her head.

  ‘I’ve tried to so many times, but I just couldn’t. The stupid thing is that I know he’ll be really good about it, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. Most people have an ex out of choice or because of something went wrong, but Ben and I, well, you know…’

  ‘You were meant to be,’ I say, a lump catching in my throat.

  ‘You know when I’m staying at Gareth’s, I often wake up in a panic and have to check he’s breathing, and then I’m wide awake just watching him sleep.’

  ‘Becca,’ I say, my heart breaking for her. It must have been so awful for her to have woken up and found Ben.

  I reach out and take her hand across the table and give her a quick squeeze.

  ‘It’s probably all the more reason for me to tell him. I’m terrified that one of these days he’s going to wake up in the night when I’m watching him and it’ll freak him out.’

  I smile before I look up at see that Gareth is coming back with the drinks and I do a subtle cough. She dabs at her eyes and plants a big smile on her face.

  ‘Here you go,’ he says, sliding our drinks to us.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, trying to get used to him sitting so close to Becca. ‘So, I hear you’re an accountant?’

  ‘For my sins,’ he says with a little bit of canned laughter.

  ‘And you enjoy it?’

  ‘I do. It’s actually a lot more interesting than people think. It’s quite amazing what some of my clients try to get away with.’

  ‘I can imagine. I work in insurance and some of the claims that people put in are ridiculous. At Christmas the claims department sends out a round-up of the best ones.’

  He chuckles again.

  ‘It must be so great for you two living together, two old school friends.’

  ‘Hmm,’ I say, realising how awkward him not knowing about Ben is. It’s the foundation of mine and Becca’s friendship. It’s how I met her, even though she was two years above me at school and it’s how I ended up living with her now. There were too many memories for her in the house she shared with Ben, so she sold it and we rented a flat together. At the time I thought I’d done it to be there for her, but looking back it was just as much about me needing to grieve with her.

  ‘So what was Becca like at school?’ he asks.

  ‘We don’t have to talk about this,’ she says awkwardly.

  ‘Of course we do, I want to hear all about you,’ he says.

  ‘Um, she was like she is now,’ I say. ‘Pretty. She had all the boys after her, of course.’ Although there was only one that captured her heart. ‘She was always the lead in the school play with her voice. Has she sung for you yet?’

  ‘Izzy.’ Becca shoots me a filthy look.

  ‘She’s got a great voice and she doesn’t sing enough anymore.’

  Becca hasn’t really sung much since Ben died. We’ve all got our coping mechanisms: mine’s Instagram, my mum’s is baking and Becca’s stopped singing because Ben was her biggest fan.

  He turns to her and smiles. ‘I am looking forward to hearing that.’ He kisses her on the top of her head and my heart burns in sadness. My hands start to shake a little and I sit on them. I hadn’t realised that seeing Becca with someone else would make me feel this way. I knew it would be a little weird but I wasn’t prepared to feel so sad.

  ‘So what are you guys doing in town?’ asks Gareth.

  I try and pull myself together for Becca’s sake. I really want to be happy for her.

  ‘Marissa and I went to the cinema to see the new Marvel movie earlier and then we went for a cup of tea at the top of town.’

  ‘How was the film?’

  ‘It was OK, but I’m not really into them like Marissa is.’

  ‘No, I don’t really like them either. I can’t think of the last time I went to the cinema; there never seems to be anything on,’ says Gareth.

  ‘I haven’t been either,’ says Becca.

  ‘I’m going to the cult cinema club in Newbury next month to see The Princess Bride. They’re doing a run of Eighties and Nineties films.’

  ‘Is that the one with the sword fighting?’ asks Gareth.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ says Becca.

  ‘Huh, I never got that movie. Thought it was a bit over-thetop.’

  ‘It’s not everyone’s cup of tea,’ I say, ‘but I love it.’

  And so did Ben. I’m not expecting Becca to have picked a carbon copy of him to date but it’s surprising how different they are.

  ‘So, what have I missed?’ says Marissa, arriving at our table and pulling out the chair next to me. ‘I’m sure you’ll have covered all the usual things: day jobs, hobbies et cetera,’ she says, waving her hand around. ‘Let’s get down to the nitty gritty. What are your intentions with Becca?’

  ‘Marissa!’ Becca gasps in horror.

  Gareth starts to stutter, but before he can get a chance to reply, Becca drains her drink.

  ‘Don’t you think we better go?’ she asks him, pointedly. ‘Our table was booked for seven and it’s almost quarter to.’

  ‘It’s not going to take us fifteen minutes to walk to the top of town,’ he says, chuckling. ‘Let’s see, my intentions. Well, I guess that depends on Becca. I’m hoping that this time next year she’ll be living with me.’

  I knock my Coke over the table. I’d been reaching for it, but the shock of hearing that made my hand spasm. Becca’s staring at him and she doesn’t notice at first that the Coke’s in danger of dripping on her.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I babble, ‘did I get you?’ I grab some napkins out of the dispenser and start blotting it.

  ‘No, don’t worry, it missed,’ says Becca. ‘I think we should take it as a sign that we should be leaving.’

  ‘OK then,’ says Gareth, finishing his wine. ‘But I want to do this again so I can meet you both properly. It’s been a pleasure, ladies.’

  ‘Likewise,’ I say, smiling. I’m still trying to mop up the Coke.

  Becca gives me a little wave over her shoulder as they le
ave.

  ‘I can’t believe that they left like that when I’ve only just come back,’ Marissa complains. ‘I barely got to ask any questions.’

  ‘Don’t take it personally. I think Becca wanted to get him away from you as quickly as possible.’

  ‘How am I not supposed to take that personally?’

  ‘She didn’t have an opportunity to brief you like she did me when he went to the bar. She hasn’t told him about Ben.’

  ‘What?’ Marissa says, her jaw nearly hitting the table as it flies open. ‘Not at all?’

  ‘She told him she’d been engaged, but not that he’d died.’

  ‘Bloody hell. So he doesn’t know that you were his sister?’

  I shake my head. I can feel tears prickling behind my eyes and I will myself not to cry.

  ‘He thinks that we were school friends.’

  ‘Oh, well I guess that’s partly true. You did know each other at school.’

  ‘Yes, but only because she was Ben’s girlfriend. It just feels weird rewriting the past.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll tell him.’

  ‘I know, I’m sure she will. It was just a bit of shock that she hadn’t. Ben was such a huge part of her life.’

  I look over at the bar wishing I’d picked something stronger to drink than Coke.

  ‘So, what’s he like?’ asks Marissa.

  ‘He seems… he’s really nice.’

  ‘But…?’

  ‘How did you know there was a but?’

  ‘Because you’ve got that look on your face.’

  I take a deep breath. ‘He’s nothing like Ben. I know that sounds absolutely ridiculous as I guess in some ways it would have been harder if she’d picked someone exactly like him. But he’s nothing like him at all. I mean he doesn’t get The Princess Bride.’

  ‘Izzy, I hate to break it to you, but not a lot of people do. Me included.’

  I half smile.

  ‘Becca really likes him,’ says Marissa. ‘I’m sure once you get to know him…’

  ‘I know, I know. It’s just I can’t imagine us all hanging out like we used to and I think it just hit me that that’s gone forever.’

  A tear rolls down my cheek and I wipe it away.

  ‘It’s OK not to be OK about this you know.’

  ‘I just feel like an awful friend.’

  ‘You’re not, it’s grief. It’s a bitch and it’s unpredictable.’

  I blink my eyes rapidly so that I don’t cry.

  ‘Can we change the subject?’ I ask.

  ‘If you want to.’

  I nod my head.

  ‘How many more likes has your Instagram post had since you last checked?’

  I pull my phone out and see that it’s gone up by a hundred since I last checked. I turn it round and show her.

  ‘Holy moly – that figure.’

  I smile and it makes me feel a teeny, tiny bit better. Looking back over the last couple of years I don’t know what I would have done without Instagram. If only I could live in the virtual life I present and not have to think about what happens in the real world, and then my life would be perfect.

  Chapter 11

  It might be Monday morning, but I’ve got no hint of back-towork blues today as the Dirty Dancing post on Instagram has been huge. People have been going crazy for it – I’ve had over 8,500 likes for it. Eight and a half thousand! That’s a 50 per cent engagement rate from my followers, which is amazing in the land of metrics.

  I haven’t even had any time to dwell on meeting Gareth yesterday because I’ve been so busy responding to comments and monitoring the rising figures.

  ‘There’s your coffee, Mrs Harris,’ I say, handing her a steaming cup from my tray before delivering one to Colin, who nods in thanks (he’s still not verbal), and Cleo, who thanks me before carrying on with her work.

  ‘What were you up to at the weekend?’ asks Mrs Harris, narrowing her eyes. ‘You’ve got a look about you.’

  ‘I got more Instagram followers.’ I can’t help the grin spreading over my face.

  ‘That’s what the spring in your step is about? You be careful, Izzy. They don’t call it “spinstergram” for nothing.’

  ‘No one calls it that.’

  ‘Well, they should and they will if you spend more time on it than with real men. It’s like that Kinder app.’

  ‘Tinder,’ I correct. ‘Kinder are the chocolate eggs.’

  ‘See, it’s all going so horribly wrong with you young folk. You need everything sweet. I saw chocolate pizza in the supermarket the other day.’

  ‘You can’t call us “you young folk”, you’re not that old.’

  She smiles and for a minute I think she’s going to accept the compliment.

  ‘I’m old enough to be a grandmother; some of my friends already are,’ she says instead.

  ‘At 31 I’m hypothetically old enough to be a grandmother too. You know, if I’d been less into books and more into boys when I was an early teen.’

  Mrs Harris scoffs and goes back to her work.

  I sip my coffee and try to focus on my screen. I’m already getting a surprising amount done today; it’s amazing how efficient I’m being when all I want to do is shove my phone in people’s faces and say, ‘Loooooooook at how popular I am!’

  A message from Luke pops up on Link.

  Luke Taylor:

  Did you see? I had over 9k likes on my photo!!! 48% reach!!!

  I type back immediately.

  Izzy Brown:

  I got 8.5k :) Your idea of posting photos on both of our accounts totally worked. I know that we won’t get that type of engagement every time, but still :)

  Luke Taylor:

  I know. Brands have surely got to start noticing us after that. Meet me for lunch? We can plan strategy.

  Izzy Brown:

  Are we taking over Westeros next?

  Luke Taylor:

  WTF????

  Izzy Brown:

  Game of Thrones? Ah, never mind.

  Luke Taylor:

  Quick tip – men in tights = no-no from me

  Izzy Brown:

  Not sure they wear tights…

  Luke Taylor:

  There are dragons in it. Also a no from me. Lunch?

  Izzy Brown:

  I’ve got sandwiches. Wanna eat in the park?

  Luke Taylor:

  Fine. See you at 1, usual place.

  Look at us having a usual place. It’s like we really are dating.

  ‘You haven’t even looked at your phone and you’re smiling,’ Mrs Harris says and I try to make my face neutral. I don’t want her to think I’m happy because I’m meeting Luke for lunch. ‘Have you been forwarded a funny email from Claims? Has someone tried to claim for hoover-related injuries again?’

  ‘Don’t mention that,’ I say, wincing. ‘Anytime the cleaners bring a Henry Hoover in the office I flinch – what those poor painted-on eyes of his have to see.’

  ‘Then what? Don’t tell me you’re taking a leaf out of Cleo’s book and dipping your pen in the company ink?’

  ‘Hey,’ says Cleo.

  ‘For the record I am not dating anyone,’ I say. ‘Not that it would matter if I was.’

  ‘Exactly,’ says Cleo. ‘We work in a massive office, Mrs Harris. It’s not like I’m dating Colin.’

  Poor Colin goes beetroot red at the mention.

  ‘Lucky you’re not,’ she says. ‘You wouldn’t trust him around your buns.’

  It’s all too much for Colin. He grabs a folder and walks off across the office.

  ‘So what are you doing then, young Izzy? You’re not applying for work in another department, are you?’

  Mrs Harris doesn’t like change. She’d be upset if she knew that I’d leave in a heartbeat if my influencer career was financially viable. I’ll have to start reminding her that I’m only a temp and this was only ever supposed to be a stop-gap, no matter how much fun we have when we’re supposed to be working.

  ‘Is it
that Jason in Risk Management? Is he trying to poach you? He may only be doing it to get to me, you know.’

  ‘Gee, thanks for doubting my professional abilities,’ I say, ‘but no, I’m not being poached. A guy from Sales is helping me with my Instagram stuff. He’s just a friend.’

  ‘Again, this is what’s wrong with you young people. You’re all “friends with benefits”. Well, let me give you some advice: there won’t be many friends wanting to give you benefits when you hit a certain age and gravity takes hold.’

  ‘Thanks for your wise words, Mrs H.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ she says, giving me a smile.

  And with that, I slip in my earphones and get back to work.

  I’m first to make it outside our building at 1 p.m. While I’m waiting I do a quick Instagram story post, featuring my watch with lots of party poppers going off around it and the caption, ‘Lunchtime!’

  ‘Hey, you’re on time.’ Luke appears in front of me, and I put my phone away.

  ‘Sometimes I manage it.’

  We start walking towards the park that we took the Dirty Dancing photos in.

  ‘So, did you have a good weekend?’ I ask.

  ‘Pretty good.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘You know, hung out.’

  ‘Wow, thanks, I’m so much the wiser,’ I say mock-rolling my eyes at him. ‘Who did you hang out with?’

  ‘People.’

  ‘Pretty sure that’s a given. Mates? Dates?’ I say, shrugging my shoulder and looking for some elaboration.

  ‘You sound like an actual girlfriend. I hung out with my mates Tom and Jack on Saturday, we went to the pub to watch the footie and then we went back to Tom’s and watched the boxing on Saturday night. Then on Sunday I did a bit of gaming until I met a group of friends for brunch. Happy now?’

  ‘Kind of. “Brunch with friends” is quite vague…’

  ‘But it does exactly what it says on the tin.’

  He goes quiet and I’m guessing that’s all the information I’m going to get.

  ‘Don’t you want to know what I did?’ I ask.

  ‘When?’

  ‘At the weekend?’

  He sighs.

  ‘You know, the up-side of having a fake relationship rather than a real one is that you don’t have to make small talk. Or learn about your partner’s friends who you don’t care about.’