“Yes, definitely hate him.”
“Even if he’s hot, a very good kisser, and clearly into you?”
“He’s not into me.”
“Why would he kiss you the moment he finds out you’re not married or engaged if he’s not into you?”
“Maybe it was the only thing he could think of to make me stop screaming at him. And after I slapped him, he’s obviously going to hate me even more than he did before.”
“Have you seen him after the kissing incident?”
“No, I steered clear of him all day.”
“Mmm, I don’t know. I’ll have to meet him before I can form a complete opinion. Actually, it’s good you have a date with him tomorrow night. I can’t wait to meet Dylan the kisser.”
“It’s not a date. It’s office drinks.”
“Yeah, and that’s why you bought take-me-to-bed shoes especially for the occasion.”
Amelia smothers me with a pillow.
“What are you going to wear?”
“No idea. You want to help me choose?” she asks, getting up from the bed.
“Sure.” I offer my hand and she pulls me up.
We start digging outfits out of her suitcase. I love girls’ nights. And this is such a perfect one I almost don’t think about Jake at all. Almost.
***
At six-thirty the following evening, we’re pushing our way into a posh bar in central London. Amelia’s wearing her new shoes and a simple-but-sexy LBD. And since last night we were going through Amelia’s wardrobe, I borrowed my outfit from her closet. I’m wearing—drum roll here—a stretch-jersey print dress. A big change from my usual color palette of monochrome boring.
“Let’s go to the bar, I need a drink,” Amelia suggests.
“Is the kisser already here?” I ask. I can’t wait to see this guy.
Amelia takes a quick scan of the room. “No, not yet.”
“Drinks it is then.” I take her hand and shoulder my way into the crowd.
When we finally reach the bar, I order two martinis and two shots. Amelia needs to loosen up a little. As for me, the more alcohol in me, the less I think about Jake on his honeymoon; Jake moving into his new house with his wife; Jake making love to her… you get the gist.
“Here, shots first!” I take the two glasses and pass one to Amelia.
“I’m not doing shots. Are you crazy?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to get drunk in front of all my colleagues. I’m already the office joke for what happened with Will. The last thing I need is to embarrass myself further.”
“I’m sure no one’s making fun of you for what happened.”
“No? You’re going to find out very soon. Flotsam and Jetsam are coming this way so you can see for yourself how charming my female colleagues are.”
“You named them Flotsam and Jetsam? After the Sea Witch minions in The Little Mermaid?”
“Yes, Flotsam’s the blonde,” Amelia whispers before parting her lips in a big, fake smile. “Felicia, Jackie… you made it.”
I turn around and choke on a chuckle. If Flotsam and Jetsam had to drink a magical potion and transform into deadly mean girls, Felicia and Jackie would make an excellent representation. They’re two thin Prada-clad evil-smiling minions. They even have their arms intertwined just like the eels’ tails in the movie, and apparently, they speak in unison too.
“Amelia, so good to see you,” they say in high-pitched voices, air kissing my friend.
“And who’s your friend?” Jetsam asks.
“Gemma, nice to meet you.” I wave to avoid having to shake their hands.
“We were just doing shots.” Amelia downs hers and I follow her lead. “You want to join us?”
“Now, Amelia. Shots? Seriously?” Flotsam asks. “Isn’t it a jot juvenile?”
“But now that you’re newly single,” Jetsam picks up the snarky banter, “you’re up for a bit of wildness.”
“So you two gals are married?” I jump into the conversation.
“No, we’re too concentrated on our careers,” they reply in chorus.
“We don’t want to keep you from your team building then,” I say.
“It was so nice meeting you,” Flotsam says, moving away.
“So nice,” Jetsam echoes and they’re gone.
I goggle my eyes at Amelia.
“Told yah. And thanks for the shot—I needed it to survive that.”
“We can move on to less juvenile drinks.” I do an impression of Flotsam’s shrill voice and pass Amelia her martini. She grabs the glass and turns around so quickly her drink sloshes on the bar.
“Hey, careful. You’re spilling your drink.”
“He’s here,” Amelia hisses.
“The kisser? Where?”
“Two tall guys at the door, he’s the one on the right.”
“Who, David Beckham doppelgänger in a suit?”
“He’s not David Beckham’s doppelgänger!”
“Mmm, I bet he wouldn’t look too bad in an underwear ad.”
“You’re the worst. Next time, you’re staying at home. What’s he doing?”
“Looking around… as if he’s searching for something, and… he’s found it!”
“How do you know he’s found it?”
“Because he’s coming over here.”
I watch David Beckham whisper something to his friend before moving decidedly in our direction. I turn around to face the bar as Amelia’s already doing.
“What? Talk to me so he’ll have to go away.”
“Nope. You’ll have to talk to him. And I’ll be here discreetly listening to all you guys say.”
“You’re the worst friend ever; you were supposed to come here to…”
“Amelia?” A deep voice coming from behind us interrupts her babbling.
“Dylan,” she says coldly, turning around to face him.
I make myself as small and inconspicuous as possible while I hang onto their every word.
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday.”
“Good. I’m glad you came here to apologize.”
“Apologise? Why should I apologise? You’re the one who slapped me. You should apologise.”
“You deserved the slap. You stole my account, you made me cry, and then you kissed me!”
“And tell me you didn’t like it.”
Even though I’m not watching them, I sense he’s moved forward, nailing Amelia against the bar. The guy’s bold. I like him.
“Of course I didn’t like it.” She’s trying to have an indignant-professional tone, but she’s achieving more of a meowing-kitten one.
“So why did you kiss me back?”
“I didn’t.” There’s a moment of silence before Amelia crumbles. “Okay, it was an instinctive reaction. I didn’t expect you to kiss me. Why did you kiss me?”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day you set foot inside the office.”
“But you’ve never said anything before.”
“You’ve never been single before.”
I don’t hear Amelia’s comeback as I get distracted by a guy next to me.
“Hi, I’m Richard Stratton. I’m supposed to keep you entertained while my mate Dylan chats Amelia up.”
I turn toward him. Rumpled dark hair, on the longish side. Dark eyes, strong jaw covered in five o’clock shadow, and his lips are parted in a wicked smile. Is every single one of Amelia’s coworkers so damn sexy?
“Gemma Dawson.” I give him my cocktail-free hand. “Shouldn’t wing men be more discreet? And you’re late. I’ve already been eavesdropping on their entire conversation.”
“What conversation?” Richard throws me a mischievous smile and I turn around to see that indeed Amelia isn’t having a conversation anymore. Instead, she’s shamelessly making out with Dylan the kisser who’s living up to his name. I should probably remind her that she isn�
��t playing seven minutes in heaven in a private closet and that she’s in a very public bar with all her colleagues watching. I peek at the back of the bar and immediately spot Flotsam and Jetsam staring at the couple, stone-faced. The green of their envy makes them even more similar to their fishy counterparts. Maybe I should let Amelia have her fun.
I focus on Richard. “You’re right. It seems your job here is done.”
“So eager to get rid of me?”
“No, sorry. That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to be rude at all.”
“And you weren’t. You want another drink?”
“Yes, please. A martini.”
“So how do you know Amelia?” Richard asks me after ordering our drinks.
“High school. I moved here a couple of years after her.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a lawyer. You?”
“Wow, tough. I work with Amelia, same marketing agency.”
“Of course, sorry, this is supposed to be your office night. I’m the intruder. What do you do at the agency, are you in sales like Amelia?”
“No, I’m head of digital. But, really, it’s a bit of everything from client management to searching new business opportunities to managing digital delivery, and I run a tight commercial ship. I work directly with Amelia from time to time.”
“Oh, so you’re a big shot.”
“Nah, not really.” He shrugs.
Good-looking, charming, and modest.
“What do you think of these team building nights?”
“I guess some have taken their bonding more seriously than others.” He chuckles, throwing a look behind my shoulders.
“Right, I feel weird standing here while they make out. Would you mind if we moved to find a table?” I smile at Richard.
“It’s going to be difficult here, but if you want, we can go somewhere else. Our friends are not going to miss us.”
“Aw, well. I’m not really… I didn’t mean it like that. I—uh—don’t think it’s a good idea. It’s totally my fault, not yours.”
“Did you really just give me an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech five minutes after meeting me?”
Despite the awkwardness, Richard manages to make me smile. “But it really is me and not you. I am a mess.”
“How come?”
“How about we move outside this bar and I can tell you all about it?”
Richard smiles and shows me the way with his left arm. “After you.”
***
“So you wanted to crash your ex-boyfriend’s wedding,” Richard says. He seems amused by my story. “But you ended up having to crash your best friend’s—my colleague Amelia’s—one instead. Then you went on her honeymoon with her and now you’re roommates. And all of this happened when?”
“In the past three weeks,” I chime in. “So you see, it really is me. I’ve just said goodbye to the love of my life for good and I’m not open to anything new at the moment.”
“Amelia was just left at the altar and she doesn’t seem to be having much trouble moving on.”
“Well, it turned out Amelia hasn’t been in love with her fiancé for the longest time. So you see how that might speed up things. Whereas for me, I still have a broken heart.”
“And that’s why you won’t go out on a date with me.”
“You never asked me on a date,” I protest.
“But if I were to, would you really say no? Not even for a bite or a friendly drink?”
I’m saved from answering by Amelia bursting out of the bar. “There you are.” She looks as flustered and in disarray as someone who’s been making out in a crowded bar should. “I’ve been looking for you all over.”
“You mean when you were pausing to breathe,” I whisper in her ear.
“Richard.” She nods at him.
“Amelia, enjoying the office bonding?” he teases.
“Not funny,” she mouths at him.
“Dylan, my mate.” Richard greets his friend who’s also joined us outside. He looks… well, there’s only one way to say it: like the cat who got the cream.
“I need to go to the ladies.” Amelia tugs at my arm. “We’ll be back in a sec,” she tells her colleagues and then drags me away.
As soon as we enter the restroom, she starts pacing around with both her hands in her hair, adding to the look of general dishevelment. “Gosh. Oh, gosh. What did I do?”
“Behaved like a horny teenager?” I offer.
“Everybody saw us.”
“Yep.”
“I’m never going to be able to show my face in the office again. I’ll have to change jobs.”
“Now, that seems a bit extreme. I’m sure office flings are pretty common.”
“Why? Why did I do it? I don’t even like the guy!”
“Actually, he’s not that hard on the eye,” I tease. This is the understatement of the year. Dylan’s a looker and we both know it.
“You’re not helping. And I wasn’t talking physically. I literally can’t stand the guy. I hate him. So what on earth made me do that?”
“I have three answers for you. Number one: vodka. My fault. Number two: animal instinct. Your fault.”
“And number three?”
“The thin line that divides hate from love… it’s an easy one to cross. But I’m told hate sex can be interesting. You should give it a try.”
“You’re definitely not helping. You know me, I’m not this person.”
“What person?”
“The person who behaves on impulses without thinking. I’ve always been good, calm, squared…”
“That doesn’t mean it isn’t time to become round.”
“Are you calling me fat?” Amelia smirks.
“No. I’m just saying the way you’ve been all your life is not the only way. And you definitely don’t have to keep behaving a certain way if you don’t want to. You can be whoever you want and date whomever you like.”
“Easy to talk. But what about you?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you and Richard.”
“Uh?”
“Well, he’s not hard on the eye either.”
“He’s just not my type.”
Amelia takes a comb out of her clutch bag and pauses in front of the mirror to tame her hair. “How come he’s not your type?”
I’m about to say, “He’s not Jake,” when she anticipates me.
“And don’t tell me it’s because he’s not Jake. I want serious reasons.”
It’s my turn to pace around the bathroom.
“Okay, I don’t have any good reason, except that he’s not Jake. But don’t you see? That’s more important than all the good reasons in the world. He’s just not him.”
Amelia turns around and takes my hands in hers. “Honey, Jake’s married. He’s gone. He’s starting a family with someone else. You’ve got to let him go.”
“I’m not ready.”
“You’re never going to be ready unless you start. And Richard’s a good guy, I promise.”
“Well I’ve already told him all my Jake drama, so I don’t think he’s too keen on me right now. Plus, he’d only be a rebound. It wouldn’t be fair on him.”
“If you’ve already told him about Jake, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“How come?”
“Richard’s an adult.” She stares in the mirror. “If you told him about Jake, he knows he’s risking being a rebound and he’s willing to take that chance. So, if he asks you on a date, will you say yes?”
“He’s not going to ask.” I don’t tell Amelia I practically made it clear that I’d say no.
“What if he does?”
“What about Dylan? If he were to ask you on a date, what would you say?”
“That’s a completely different matter. I can’t start something with a colleague.”
“It might be too late for that. So?”
Amelia nods
at her reflection and puts away the comb, then looks me straight in the eyes through the mirror.
“I’ll say yes to Dylan, if you say yes to Richard.”
“He hasn’t asked me,” I repeat.
“Neither has Dylan. So do we have a deal? If they ask, we both say yes?”
I roll my eyes at her in the mirror. “Deal.”
Maybe she’s right. I do need to move on eventually, so why not start tonight? At the thought, my body goes through a super concentrated version of a panic attack. In five seconds, my heart skips a beat at the thought of having lost Jake forever. Then my pulse starts racing, bringing along a blind panic that spreads from my stomach to my throat. That’s when a shiver goes through me and I force myself to calm down and shake away the feeling. And with that shake, I’m finally back to normal.
As we’re exiting the restroom, Flotsam and Jetsam stroll in.
“Amelia,” Jetsam speaks first. “We thought you might need to freshen up.”
“You really have gone on a wild spree,” Flotsam sneers.
I can already see their comments putting doubts in Amelia’s pretty head, so I take over. “Excuse us, ladies, but we’ve got to go back to our dates. You should try one of those. They’re fun, I promise.”
And with that, I push Amelia out of the door and leave Flotsam and Jetsam to stare at their outraged, obnoxious faces in the mirror.
“Oh gosh,” Amelia says as we push our way back out of the bar. “I’m never going to hear the end of it. They’re going to make my life at the office a nightmare. But did you see their faces?” Amelia giggles. “Totally worth it. I love you.”
“And I you.”
“And when we were about to despair, they came back.” Richard greets us as we get outside. “Ladies, we were thinking about grabbing a bite for dinner. Would you like to join us?”
I look at Richard first, his rumpled brown hair at odds with his square jaw. An open expression on his face, a twinkle in his crinkly eyes. Why not? I need this. I need a handsome guy with an honest face. Even if it’s just going to be for a night, a month, or whatever.
Before answering, I observe Dylan and he appears hungry. He’s looking at Amelia as if he’d rather have her for dinner. I giggle inwardly. “I’d love to join you for dinner,” I say. “But only if we can have burgers. They’re my favorites, and I’m craving one.”
Richard laughs. “Burgers it is, I know just the place. It’s not too far away, we can walk there.”
Love Connection (A Feel Good Romantic Comedy) Page 8
