We Just Clicked

by Anna Bell

  By the time I make it back to my desk I’m exhausted and in desperate need of a cup of tea.

  ‘Well?’ says Mrs Harris, lowering her glasses onto the tip of her nose and looking over them.

  ‘Jason wouldn’t let me get within three metres of his creation, but it smelled of cinnamon.’

  ‘Just cinnamon?’

  ‘Like a cin-a-bon concession.’

  ‘Got it,’ she says, writing it down on her notepad. ‘Go on.’

  ‘And then I swung past Mary’s desk and her mini cupcakes were mojito-flavoured. And oh my God they were soooo—’ I stop abruptly when I see Mrs Harris’s nostrils flaring. ‘They were OK. You know, the sponge was all melt-in-your-mouth-fluffy and the frosting was all creamy and the lime was zingy on my tongue then the rum gave it an unexpected kick—’ I can still taste it on the tip of my tongue. ‘They were just OK, though. And, you know, so unimaginative. I bet if you’d have made them they’d have tasted heaps better.’

  ‘You weren’t supposed to taste it, that was my job. I’m the one with the sophisticated palate.’

  ‘Sorry, I couldn’t help it, Brenda from Sales was coming for me.’

  ‘And Miles?’ she says arching her eyebrow.

  ‘He saw me get rumbled by Mary.’

  Mrs Harris tuts loudly and turns her attention to her screen. I think I’m in the dog house.

  Colin gives me a little smile in solidarity.

  My computer beeps and I see I’ve got a new message on Link. I click on it and read it.

  Luke Taylor:

  I’ve got something I want to talk to you about. Do you want to meet me for lunch today?

  Blimey, I didn’t expect to hear from him so quickly. Does this mean he’s super keen? I’m so out of the loop with dating. How do I tell him I’m not interested in that way?

  Izzy Brown:

  I’m a bit busy today. Snowed under. Could we do it another time?

  I’m hoping he’ll take the hint. I’d actually been planning to phone my mum during my break to see how she’s getting on. Going to see the ice hockey has set her back and I’ve been trying to phone her daily.

  Luke Taylor:

  Yes, you seemed busy walking round our floor trying to steal baking secrets.

  I don’t know what to write. He’ll be seeing the dots to indicate that I’m typing and unless I respond smartish he’ll expect an essay. Think, Izzy, think. What subtly says ‘I’m not interested in you’ but is still very polite?

  Luke Taylor:

  Just come along and hear what I have to say. Meet you outside the main block at 1pm?

  He isn’t giving me much room to get out of it and I get the impression that he’s going to be persistent.

  Izzy Brown:

  1pm is fine. See you then.

  ‘How are you so flushed in this ice box of an office?’ says Cleo, wheeling her chair next to mine. She touches her cold hands to my cheeks. I didn’t know they were burning.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it was the rum in those cupcakes.’

  ‘Or maybe it’s because Luke Taylor just sent you a message,’ she says, her eyes lighting up. I turn back to my screen to see that he’s sent a message saying, See you then.

  ‘What’s all that about?’ she asks. ‘Nothing! I saw him the other night at that Instagram event—’

  ‘Oh, you did, did you?’ She’s doing a patronising head tilt and overemphasising all her words. ‘I did. And now he wants to meet me for lunch.’

  ‘Lunch,’ she parrots back, eyebrow raised. ‘Yes, just lunch. He has something he wants to discuss, appar ently.’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ she says, smirking. ‘You’ve got a date, it’s about time.’

  ‘It’s not a date,’ I say firmly.

  ‘Whatever,’ she says, winking.

  I give up. She’s never going to believe me. It’s absolutely and categorically not a date and not because I’m afraid of having my heart broken again but because he’s not my type in the slightest.

  Chapter 7

  I dodge through the mass exodus that always happens during lunch hour scanning for Luke. I spot him channelling James Dean, leaning with his back against a wall, dressed in a leather jacket with large aviator sunglasses on.

  ‘You came,’ he says, walking forward to meet me.

  ‘Well, I figured you knew where I worked if I didn’t.’

  ‘Yeah and I could have totally dobbed you into Mary and Brenda.’

  I mock gasp, ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘Never underestimate me just because of my extremely pretty face.’

  I shake my head, he really is intolerable.

  ‘So, you hungry?’ he says, starting to walk.

  ‘Starving.’

  ‘Great, I’ve got somewhere in mind,’ he says, without running it past me for approval. ‘So did you manage to stay out of trouble for the rest of the morning? Brenda and Mary have been watching the doors to the floor ever since you left.’

  ‘They’ll be pleased to know that apart from the coffee machine, I didn’t leave my desk and I actually knuckled down and did some work.’

  ‘Huh? Work at work. Interesting.’

  ‘Well, that’s what they pay me to do so I figure that I should do it every so often.’

  ‘Wise plan,’ he says. We walk through one of the back streets on the edge of the high street. ‘I thought we could go to this new little café,’ he says, leading me towards it. I recognise it, and it takes me a moment to place it as the Mexican café I saw from the window of the bar when I was out with the girls.

  My skin prickles at the thought of the Aidan in his Led Zeppelin T-shirt. I’d promised myself I’d come back to talk to him but I hadn’t built up the courage. I wonder if he’ll be inside and if he’ll recognise me. I start to panic. I don’t want to thank him in front of Luke, but if he does recognise me then it would be rude not to say anything.

  ‘Oh, is that Mexican food?’ I say with an over-the-top wince, pretending that it’s not one of my favourite type of foods.

  ‘Mostly, but I think they do other cuisines, too.’

  We’re close enough to see in through the windows. I can only see two women behind the counter; no sign of him.

  ‘Let’s give it a try,’ says Luke, pushing open the door. ‘The lighting’s great in here and the food’s vibrant so it works for my feed.’

  I’m beginning to realise that he’s not the kind of guy who takes no for an answer.

  The café’s bigger on the inside than it looks, and there are a few free tables at the back.

  ‘This is cute,’ I say, loving the bright yellow-painted walls and the multicoloured sombreros lining it.

  ‘Yeah, a selfie against these walls really sets off my tan,’ says Luke.

  We queue at the counter waiting for our turn to order, and I stare at the menu. It all looks so good.

  ‘I think I might get a spicy pulled pork and cheese burrito,’ I say, struggling to choose.

  ‘Brave choice for someone who doesn’t like Mexican,’ Luke says, raising a neat and tidy eyebrow. I can’t help staring at it, wondering if he plucks them.

  ‘Well, if I’m not going to like it, might as well go the whole hog. Get it? Hog – pulled pork.’

  He smiles but I don’t think he gets it. Perhaps I can put him off with my bad jokes.

  ‘What can I get you?’ asks the woman behind the counter. She’s got long dark brown hair and sun-kissed skin and she smiles warmly at us. I fully expect Luke to swoop in and start flirting madly with her, and I’m a little surprised when he orders his lunch without any fuss.

  I order my burrito, loving the fact that the woman lets me choose all the different elements of it. It looks mammoth by the time it’s all rolled up.

  ‘How are you going to get that in your mouth?’ asks Luke.

  ‘You’d be surprised what I can get in my mouth,’ I say.

  Luke’s face lights up and I wish I could take it back.

  ‘Sounds like a challenge.’r />
  I ignore him and pick up the cutlery from the table and start to cut into it instead. ‘So what did you want to speak to me about so urgently?’ I say.

  I watch with jealousy as he bites straight into his whilst I’m forced to eat teeny tiny forkfuls trying to keep it from coming unravelled. ‘No beating around the bush, I like it,’ he says, after he finishes what he’s chewing. ‘Are you single?’

  I choke on the tiny mouthful I’m eating.

  ‘Um, I’m technically single, but not really single, single.’

  He narrows his eyes.

  ‘You mean you’re seeing someone but it’s not Facebook official?’

  ‘No, I mean I’m not seeing anyone and I don’t want to at the moment. I’m happy just being me and alone.’

  He wrinkles his face before he relaxes it again.

  ‘My Instagram post of us two was really popular.’

  ‘Was it?’ I’d not looked it again as I’d been trying to block it out.

  ‘It had over 8,000 likes.’

  Blimey. Despite having over 15,000 followers the most amount of likes for a single post of mine was 3,000.

  ‘Bloody hell, did it? You must have really dedicated followers.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s just to do with me; it’s more our story.’

  ‘Our story?’

  ‘Yeah, you know people are suckers for romance. Everyone’s been eating it up. You should have read the comments. They kept asking if I was going to ask you out and it got me thinking.’

  He pulls out his phone and shows me the picture again. ‘We look great together and I thought we could have an old-school classic romance. You know, we could be the Romeo and Juliet of the Instagram world.’

  ‘Er, you know they died at the end, right?’

  ‘OK, then,’ he says, waving a hand. ‘Antony and Cleopatra.’

  ‘Um, they died too.’

  He sighs loudly. ‘OK, perhaps not classic romance, but how about Brad and Angelina.’

  ‘They got divorced, years ago.’

  ‘Bloody hell. Isn’t there one shining example of romance?’

  ‘No, because it’s inevitable that where there’s love there’s heartbreak.’

  I give up with my knife and fork and bite into the burrito whilst holding it with my hands.

  ‘I’m sensing issues here, but the point is, we could be that shining example.’

  ‘Um,’ I say, screwing up my face. ‘It’s really not a good time for me. I’m at a point in my life where I need to focus on me and what makes me happy as well as concentrating on my Instagram and—’

  ‘Izzy, you don’t think I’m hitting on you for real, do you?’ he says, cutting me off with a little laugh.

  ‘Um, no of course not,’ I say, trying to hide the fact I’m a bit miffed. I know I didn’t want to date him but it was flattering thinking that he was interested. ‘Although, I’ll have you know I’m a pretty good catch.’

  ‘I’m sure you are – perhaps if you weren’t carrying round so much emotional baggage. Let me guess, your ex cheated on you and broke your heart?’

  I’m stunned that he was able to guess so easily. Although my heartbreak isn’t simply as a result of Cameron cheating. It was more to do with the timing in relation to Ben’s death, which magnified it all.

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I’ve been a shoulder to cry on many a time. I’m an excellent rebound, but not for you. I actually like you.’

  ‘I don’t know if I should be pleased or offended. But wait, I’m confused, if you’re not asking me out, what are you asking me?’

  ‘You know how Lara was saying that brands like Instagram couples? There’s a lot of cross pollination for couples. Sharing each other’s followers, boosting each other’s likes. Big brands like it as it stretches their reach.’

  ‘I imagine they do,’ I say, sipping my drink, totally lost as to where this conversation’s leading.

  ‘Yeah, and my followers actually liked that I’d met someone. I thought they’d all be jealous as hell.’

  ‘This might be news to you, but not everyone follows someone on Instagram because they want to hook up with them.’

  He chuckles a little before seeing my face is deadpan.

  ‘Oh, Izzy, you should read my inbox.’

  ‘What, is it like mine? Full of bots trying to scam you by pretending they fancy you.’

  ‘I feel like we’re going off topic… I think we should date. Everyone would love us on Instagram.’

  I blink a couple of times trying to process what he’s just said.

  ‘You want to date me, for Instagram?’

  ‘Exactly. Like fake date,’ he says nodding and tucking into his burrito like he’s just suggested something totally normal.

  I look at my Coke and wish it were something stronger. ‘Fake date? What does that even mean?’

  ‘It’s exactly like it sounds,’ he says through a mouthful of burrito. ‘We’d make it look on Instagram like we were dating. You’re already in the habit of planning and staging photos. This is no different. We’d take photos of us on our first date, second date and so on – we both share the photos, add cute hashtags and hopefully we’ll grow our number of followers and move up a level as Influencers.’

  It takes me a moment to fully digest what he’s saying and then I start to laugh.

  ‘Now that was funny,’ I say. ‘You had me going for a minute.’

  I pick up my burrito to start eating again.

  ‘I’m not kidding,’ he says.

  My jaw drops open and I put down my food.

  ‘Luke, we can’t fake a relationship.’

  ‘Why not? Everyone fakes everything on Instagram. How would it be any different?’

  ‘Not everything on Instagram is fake.’

  ‘Come on, almost everything on it is manipulated somehow. When was the last time you posted a photo of yourself without a filter?’

  ‘That’s different,’ I protest.

  ‘Why is it?’

  ‘Because it just is,’ I say, folding my arms over my chest.

  ‘OK,’ he says, shrugging. ‘It was just an idea. A way for us to get to that 30k mark by Christmas. You know, that’s when people start making money.’

  I try to comprehend what he’s proposing. It wouldn’t be the most ridiculous thing I’d have done for my feed – we all know that involved two rolls of clingfilm and some corn starch and red food dye – but it would certainly be up there amongst them.

  ‘How would you see it working?’ I say with a huff. It might be a terrible idea but I’m slightly intrigued nonetheless.

  ‘Well,’ he says with a smug smile.

  I raise my eyebrow in a warning. ‘I haven’t said I’ll do it.’

  ‘Your eyes have. Look, it wouldn’t have to be much. We’d maintain our individual feeds but we’d go on dates and post photos of us on them. We wouldn’t necessarily have to meet up a lot, we could take photos in a few different outfits at a time – or one outside then one indoor but post them on different days so that people think they’ve been taken at different times.’

  ‘And that’s it? We go out a few times and take a few selfies?’

  ‘Yep. We’ll do it for a little bit to try and get the numbers up. Hopefully we’ll catch the attention of some companies who’ll pay us to advertise their products on our feed.’

  It’s almost making sense.

  ‘But how will it end? We couldn’t be like those couples that Lara was talking about – we’re not buying a house to do up, or having a baby.’

  ‘I guess at some point we’ve got to break up. Mutually, of course. We’ll probably decide that we’re better off friends or something to make sure we don’t alienate our joint followers.’

  He’s got it all worked out. The annoying thing is that I think his idea could work. I’ve been scratching my head for ways to bump up my followers and this could be it.

  ‘I don’t know. This feels wrong.’

  I finally admi
t defeat with my burrito and push it to one side.

  ‘Look, we’re not doing any harm, we’re both single, we’re not cheating on anyone. All we’re doing is a few photos. No big deal. Do you have many family and close friends that follow you?’

  ‘Only a few close friends.’

  When I set up my Instagram I deliberately wanted it keep it separate from my real life and didn’t advertise it on my personal Facebook account. I love the anonymity of it and the fact that no one on there knows the real me.

  ‘Then I suggest you tell them the truth so that they don’t ruin it in the comments, and we keep it a secret from everyone else.’

  ‘That would make sense.’

  If I did it, it’s not the kind of thing I’d want everyone to know.

  The bell goes over the café door and I look up and see Aidan. He’s even better-looking up close, despite being dressed in scruffy jeans and another faded band T-shirt.

  He walks in carrying a cardboard box overflowing with fresh vegetables. I’m terrified he’s going to look over and I don’t want to talk to him in front of Luke, it’s too personal.

  But he doesn’t look my way, he only has eyes for the woman behind the counter, and I can’t blame him, she’s gorgeous. She’s midway through serving a customer and when he smiles at her she beams back and blows him an over-the-top kiss in a way that makes me sure that they’re together.

  ‘Hello…’ says Luke, staring at me. ‘Earth to Izzy.’

  ‘Huh?’

  Aidan disappears through the kitchen door. As it swings shut behind him, I let out a deep breath.

  ‘So, are you in?’ asks Luke.

  ‘Can I think about it?’

  ‘OK, but an offer like this,’ he says, waving his hands down his face and torso, ‘doesn’t come along every day.’

  ‘It certainly doesn’t,’ I say, trying to rein in my sarcasm.

  The woman from behind the counter swings through the door into the kitchen and I almost immediately hear her laugh echo back.

  ‘Did you want to head back to the office?’ I say, looking at Luke’s empty plate. I suddenly don’t want to be here when Aidan walks back through. He seems to stir up so many emotions in me that I’m not ready to confront.