Take a Moment

by Nina Kaye

  I take a moment to consider my response, so I can ensure that I keep things as smooth as possible.

  ‘Thank you, Danielle. Everyone, this news was supposed to be shared next week. I haven’t yet had the chance to digest it myself.’

  ‘So, will you be delegating some of your responsibilities?’ Danielle asks, before anyone else can get a word in.

  ‘We’re still working things through, Danielle. I expect I’ll keep the majority of my workload, but I may need support with some of the project governance activities.’

  I actually do know this answer to this – Emmanuel’s arranging for me to have a project assistant – but it’s not appropriate to share this now.

  ‘Now that Danielle’s ruined your big news…’ Dhruv throws a look in her direction. ‘…may we offer our congratulations as well?’

  I look around my project team, trying to gauge their reactions. My eyes linger on Felix for a fraction of a second longer, but he shows no obvious negative reaction.

  ‘I… eh… sure, why not.’

  There’s an immediate flurry of congratulatory messages.

  ‘Well done, mate.’ Dhruv gives me a slapping handshake. ‘Fantastic news. Good to know we’re learning from one of the best in the company.’

  ‘This is very good news, Alex,’ Felix chips in, and to my relief, sounds genuinely pleased for me. ‘In Germany, we say Herzliche Glückwünsche. This means… heartfelt wishes of luck.’

  The others follow with their support in quick succession, including those on the Zoom call, and I’m quite overwhelmed by the collective sincere and supportive reactions. Danielle aside, they really are a great bunch.

  ‘Thank you, all of you. It’s my hope that I can bring what I learn back to this room and be the best, most supportive leader I can be.’

  ‘Hear hear,’ Dhruv calls out. ‘Now let’s get out of here. My pint isn’t going to pour itself.’

  We laugh as we say our goodbyes to our international colleagues and head out of the meeting room. As we walk along the corridor to the lifts, I notice Danielle looking a bit smug, despite the fact I received such a positive response from the team. I up my pace slightly so that I can catch her up.

  ‘So, Danielle, how did you come across that particular piece of information?’ I keep my tone deliberately casual.

  ‘Oh, you know. It was doing the rounds. Can’t remember where it came from.’ She looks me straight in the eye, but I can tell she’s lying through her teeth.

  ‘Right. Seems funny though, if it was getting around, that it was such a surprise to the rest of the team, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Guess they must have missed it somehow,’ she says, then struts off ahead of me.

  Yeah, and I’m the Queen of Sheba. All too aware that Danielle’s behaviour may be escalating, and needs to be nipped in the bud, I decide to schedule some time with Emmanuel to discuss how to do just that. Emmanuel will be very unhappy that this has leaked. But where did it come from? Suddenly, I get a flash of memory, back to bumping into Danielle that Monday lunchtime. She was with someone. Another member of her coven, it seems. I wonder who that person is, and where she works.

  * * *

  I’m beyond shattered by the time I’m unlocking the door to my apartment. A heavy week was not what I needed after Sasha’s visit, but I’m still in high spirits, despite Danielle’s attempt to steal my sunshine. I push her and her nonsense firmly to the back of my mind.

  As I’m not meeting Matt until 7:30 p.m., I have a quick catnap and when I wake to my alarm forty-five minutes later, I feel groggy, as if I’ve been asleep for hours. I’m also less refreshed than expected. Padding lethargically around my apartment, I get ready to go out, while throwing something resembling a meal down my throat – all the time wondering why I didn’t ask Matt if we could do Saturday instead. That would have given me a bit of recuperation time. But by the time I’m walking out the main door of my apartment block, I’ve perked up, and the adrenaline and excitement of finally spending some proper time in Matt’s company have kicked in. Along with some stomach-churning nerves.

  I look up where I’m meeting him on Google Maps and start walking in that direction. Something I’ve realised I love about living on the fringe of the city centre is that everywhere I want to go is within easy reach. I cross the plaza at Brindley Place, descend the arc-shaped steps and amble along the canal bank, scrolling through Twitter on my phone. Although it’s dark, I feel quite comfortable doing this alone. It’s a well-lit path and there’s plenty of people around, meandering between the handful of eating and drinking establishments that line the waterway.

  I reach the Tetris-like exterior of the Cube, tentatively enter the foyer, locate the lift and take it to the twenty-fifth floor. My stomach feels like it’s going through a forty-degree wash. Between the feeling of ascension, my giddy nervousness and my underlying exhaustion, I’m ever so slightly nauseous. It’s a feeling I’ve never quite experienced. Not even on my first date with Dom.

  Several seconds later, the lift stops and the doors ping open. I step out into a much smaller foyer as the second lift dings and out steps Matt, nearly colliding with me as he does.

  ‘Hi there.’ His gorgeous features break into a grin. ‘Seems we both have good timing.’

  ‘So we do.’ I smile back at him, my nerves having now kicked into spin-cycle mode.

  He leans across, touching me lightly on my upper arm as he greets me with a kiss on the cheek. It’s hardly off the scale in terms of physical contact, but this, along with his fresh, citrusy eau de toilette wafting into my nostrils, sets off a symphony of fireworks in my body. He’s even more delicious than I remember. His beard is perfectly groomed, hair just the right balance of styled with a hint of ‘just out of bed’. And those eyes: like melted chocolate. They make me want to dive right in.

  ‘How was your day?’ he asks a little too forcefully, his Birmingham accent thicker than I remember.

  I can tell he’s trying to break the ice quickly, his initial confidence wavering. That’s all we need. The two of us turning into a pair of gibbering idiots who can’t manage a coherent conversation.

  ‘It was fine. Busy.’

  ‘Mine too.’ He nods.

  For a few moments we stand silently, muted by our first date nerves, and I have to force down a giggle threatening to rise in my throat. It’s a bit awkward, but not like previous experiences, where I’ve been planning my escape the from moment I clapped eyes on my date. There’s an added layer of intrigue and chemistry that’s overwhelming the two of us.

  ‘Shall we get a drink?’ I suggest.

  ‘Of course.’ Matt seems to come to. ‘It’s this way.’

  He leads me into the chic surroundings of Magenta: a rooftop bar with low lighting, contemporary decor and floor-to-ceiling windows that provide a panoramic view of Birmingham’s skyline by night. The silhouettes of the historical landmarks nestled among the more imposing modern structures create a breathtakingly majestic cityscape, made all the more alluring by the twinkling lights that look like static fireflies in the sky.

  ‘Oh, wow.’ I’m immediately impressed. ‘This place is incredible.’

  ‘It’s good, isn’t it? One of my favourite places in Birmingham. You can see right across the city.’

  ‘I’d love to see it in the light as well.’

  ‘We can always come back.’

  I glance at him and bite my lip. ‘Planning our second date already?’

  ‘No.’

  He shakes his head a little too determinedly, eyes still on the view outside, and I feel disappointed. Then he looks back at me, a hint of a smile sneaking through.

  ‘I’ve already got something else planned for that.’

  As he says this, another symphony erupts in my abdomen. We’ve barely said two words but he already wants to see me again? I’m so elated, I feel like I could float above the Birmingham skyline myself, on a white fluffy cloud.

  ‘Where would you like to sit?’ asks Matt.
<
br />   ‘How about over there by the other set of windows?’

  We make our way across to the table I’ve chosen, where a waiter materialises almost immediately with the drinks list.

  ‘They do great cocktails in here,’ says Matt. ‘Have anything you like. My shout.’

  I read down the list and then wish I hadn’t. As the gin cocktails jump off the page at me, I realise just one would have me at my two-drink limit – which I’ve set in units of alcohol, not actual drinks. I decide to stick with a gin and tonic, but I make it an interesting one.

  ‘Good choice, madam,’ says the waiter. ‘Would you like a double or a single measure?’

  ‘Single please.’

  ‘You sure?’ Matt obviously thinks I’m just being polite.

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘All right then. I’ll have the same.’ He hands the drinks list back to the waiter.

  ‘You could have had a double.’

  ‘I’ve been a bit slow to this gin thing. I take my lead from others.’

  I watch him for a second, unsure what to make of this comment, then decide that it must be his way of making me feel comfortable.

  Another silence develops between us, again more electrically charged than awkward. I study Matt’s handsome features, feeling myself blush a little as I wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

  ‘How’s the world of manufacturing engineering?’ I ask, mainly to divert the blood from my face to my brain.

  He rubs his beard thoughtfully. ‘I’d say… as boring as IT project management.’

  ‘Hey, I love my job.’

  ‘I know. That did make me wonder if I’d had a narrow escape before.’

  I laugh. ‘You’re a bit of a cheeky one, aren’t you?’

  ‘Think I do that to cover up that I’m nervous.’

  I expect this comment to be paired with a mischievous grin, but his face is neutral, which makes me warm to him even more. He’s so open, just says it as it is. Such a refreshing quality.

  ‘So, you’re nervous?’ I tease him.

  ‘And you’re not?’

  ‘You know when a washing machine goes on spin cycle?’

  ‘No. My mum does all my washing.’

  As he says this alarm bells clang in my head. He’s a mummy’s boy? I knew this was too good to be true.

  Matt gives a little wave to bring my attention back. ‘Probably the time to tell you I’m joking, right? By the look on your face, you’re about thirty seconds from the “I’ve just had a family emergency” call.’

  I burst into relief-fuelled laughter. ‘Seriously? I thought that was real. Might be an idea to tone it down a bit. At least til I’ve got the basic facts.’

  ‘Sorry. I’ll try and reel it in.’

  The waiter returns with our drinks and a small jar of what looks like seasoned corn kernels. We thank him and as he walks away, Matt lifts his drink and looks me straight in the eye.

  ‘Cheers, Alex. Nice to finally have a drink with you again.’

  I raise my own glass, clinking it against his. ‘It sure is.’

  We sip at our drinks while admiring the view, then simultaneously reach for the nibbles, causing our fingers to collide. I snatch my hand away as he does exactly the same, then we look at each other and start to laugh.

  ‘You go,’ he prompts me, grinning.

  ‘Thanks.’

  I take a few pieces of corn, then he does the same.

  ‘I know you’ve been here a few months now, but how are you settling in?’

  ‘Fine.’ I nod, cringing a little as I crunch loudly on the corn.

  ‘Don’t worry. I can barely hear you over my own horse-like munching.’

  ‘They’re really good, but not sure they’re first date snacks.’

  ‘Unless you’re a horse,’ he points out.

  I accidentally snort – horse-like – in amusement and then redden at Matt’s resulting laugh. ‘I’m settling really well,’ I say, keen to move us along. ‘I love working on Brindley Place. It’s got a great buzz, and it’s such a treat to be able to take a lunchtime walk along the canal – on the days I actually manage a lunch break.’

  ‘I know the feeling.’ Matt grimaces. ‘A bad habit working through lunch, but for me it’s a choice between that and working late every day.’

  ‘Totally.’ I abandon the corn and sip at my drink instead, enjoying the warmth from the alcohol, complemented by the spicy botanicals and the bitterness of the tonic.

  ‘My best option for a scenic lunch is the industrial estate car park.’

  ‘That’s not going to suit someone who loves the hills and countryside as much as you do.’

  ‘Correct.’ He sits forward and leans on the table, hand propping up his chin, dark eyes glinting in the half-light. ‘There’s something about being on the peak of a mountain that’s so liberating, you almost think you could leap off it and fly.’

  ‘I suggest you don’t try that.’

  ‘No, obviously not. But you understand what I mean. When I saw you up singing last weekend, I could see that it did the same for you. You were so lost in the music. It was quite something to watch.’

  My flush returns in response to the compliment; that and the feeling that Matt’s eyes are almost scanning my soul, seeking out our compatibility.

  ‘I do enjoy it.’

  ‘And you’re amazing.’

  ‘Mmm…’ I bob my head from side to side in a non-committal way. ‘…I’m not sure I’d go that far.’

  ‘Modest too.’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘Is there no limit to your good qualities?’

  How about a deteriorating central nervous system? Or a possible future in a wheelchair? As this flicker of negativity flits through my mind, I’m so shocked I have to catch my breath.

  ‘You OK?’ Matt looks concerned. ‘Not choking on the animal feed?’

  ‘Oh… no, I’m fine. Just a twinge of pain. Overdid the running, I think. Seem to have injured my knee.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that. I wondered if you were trying to distract me from giving you compliments.’ He pauses thoughtfully. ‘It might be too soon to mention this, but one of my mates at the bar with me the other night is in a band. It’s a semi-professional set-up. They play decent-sized weekend gigs, make all right money on the side, rehearse in a proper studio. They’re looking for a lead vocalist – someone who can sing the likes of the Killers, in fact. He wanted to know if you’d be interested in auditioning?’

  I purse my lips, aware that yet another commitment is not what I need when I’m trying to keep my health stable. Being far from ready to share my circumstances with Matt (which would undoubtedly send him scarpering for his beloved hills), I attempt to divert the conversation by mirroring his humour.

  ‘You’re right, it is too soon.’

  ‘OK, sure.’ Matt half-shrugs.

  I immediately feel guilty as hell. ‘I’m only joking. Just playing you at your own game – and realising that was a stupid thing to do.’

  Matt chuckles and shakes his head. ‘Shall we start again?’

  ‘That would be good.’

  ‘I’m Matt. Great to meet you.’ He sticks out his hand and I burst out laughing, then shake it.

  ‘Alex. It’s a pleasure.’

  ‘So. The band?’ he prompts. ‘Or should I go back to pleasantries?’

  ‘No, please don’t go there. Who knows where we’ll end up.’

  We slug at our drinks and it feels like the awkwardness is finally starting to lift.

  ‘I think…’ I look out the window at the twinkling city lights, wondering how to politely decline ‘…it sounds amazing. But being perfectly honest, I’m not sure I’m good enough and I get stage fright. I probably couldn’t make the commitment right now anyway.’

  ‘The commitment issue I can’t help with. But having seen you, you’d get over the nerves quickly, and you need to dispel any doubts as to your talent. When I said my mate wondered if you fancied auditioning, what he actually said was “Matt, if y
ou know her, you need to get her to my rehearsal studio – whatever it takes”.’

  ‘That would be a lovely compliment if it didn’t sound a little sinister.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have shared it verbatim.’ Matt swirls the ice round in his drink. ‘But you weren’t responding to the diluted version.’

  ‘True. Well, thank you, that is high praise. But as much as that would be like my younger self’s dream come true, I’m just not sure I can. My job is full on. I’ve just been nominated for their leadership talent development scheme, which is going to be all-consuming.’

  ‘Wow. I really am in the presence of a superstar. I thought you had to drink two pints of blood, sacrifice a llama and master an impossible handshake to get on corporate schemes like that.’

  I snigger with amusement. I love Matt’s quick-witted responses and how he keeps me on my toes with his slick banter (when he’s not getting all tongue-tied like me).

  ‘That may be the case in some places but the company I work for is actually really great. So is my manager. Can’t believe how lucky I’ve been.’

  ‘I’m sure luck is only a small part of it.’

  ‘It’s not, believe me. Back in Glasgow, I would have had to develop superhuman abilities to have made it on their talent programme. Though I did have a challenging role and other development opportunities, until…’ I trail off, realising I’m about to stray into difficult territory.

  This has the effect of reminding me that while Matt has taken the ‘play no games’ oath, I’m not being completely up front with him. I don’t think I can be – not yet anyway. I chew my lip and stare out the window distractedly.

  ‘Hey, where did you go?’ Matt reaches over and places his hand on my forearm gently.

  ‘Sorry.’ I come back to the moment, my skin tingling in response to his touch. ‘Caught up in a weird memory there.’

  ‘Didn’t seem like a particularly pleasant one.’

  ‘It’s nothing. Office politics. You know how it is. Or maybe you don’t.’

  ‘Why would that be?’ He gives me a curious look.

  ‘Because you don’t work in a corporate environment.’