by L.H. Cosway
“Yes, and I’m sure all those respected individuals are getting lucrative book deals and television interviews to talk about what they saw,” I shot back.
“Just because a person is getting paid doesn’t mean they’re lying,” she countered.
“Do you know what? I might even get a glass of plum wine,” Michaela commented, but I barely paid her any attention. This woman, Afric, aggravated me, and I was suddenly determined to win our little debate.
“Okay, let’s say they’re telling the truth,” I said. “Why haven’t the aliens come out and shown themselves to everyone? Why only a select few?”
She threw her hands up in the air, her tone sarcastic, “Oh, I don’t know. Because humanity has always been so kind and accepting to those who are different. Besides, have you ever considered that beings from another planet might be so far advanced that there would be no point trying to talk to us? It’d be like a human going into a field and trying to have a conversation with a cow. It just wouldn’t work. Cows can’t speak. Maybe the difference between humans and aliens is that vast. Maybe they’re here to observe us, the same way we observe animals in the wild, but they aren’t going to get involved in our daily lives because that’s not what they’re about.”
Michaela’s phone buzzed, and she busied herself responding to a text while I continued eyeing Afric. She wore a triumphant smile, and I couldn’t believe I’d allowed her to get under my skin discussing a subject I had little-to-no interest in. What was wrong with me today? Perhaps running Callum’s social media was stressing me more than it normally did.
I glanced at Afric one last time, realising that arguing with her wasn’t going to get me anywhere. And that was why I didn’t respond to her counterpoint. Instead, I glanced down and frowned intently at my menu.
A moment later, the waiter arrived, and we made our orders. Afric must’ve sensed my disinterest in talking to her further because she focused on chatting with Michaela about how things were going for her at work.
“Well, this was great,” Michaela said with a forced smile as we finished up lunch. My co-worker was clearly too polite to mention the awkwardness that had ensued after my and Afric’s argument.
Afric pulled Michaela into a hug. “Yeah, see you later,” she said, casting me a small, curious glance before she turned to wave down an approaching taxi. The taxi stopped by the kerb, and Afric climbed in.
“Well,” Michaela said, folding her arms. “I guess you won’t be coming to lunch with Afric and me again any time soon.”
I shot her an arch look. “You’ve guessed correctly.”
Michaela chuckled. “I warned you she wasn’t everybody’s cup of tea.”
“Seems appropriate that I’ve always preferred coffee,” I replied, and we made our way back to the gym.
Hours later, I was still irritable when I arrived at my grandma’s house for dinner. My younger sister, Rosie, still lived with her since she’d raised us after our parents passed away. I had my own place in the city, but I preferred to eat here rather than prepare a meal for one and eat alone in my sad little flat. Besides, nothing could beat Grandma’s cooking.
I smelled the shepherd’s pie as soon as I stepped in the door, and my mood improved substantially. As expected, my lunch hadn’t gone down very well. I liked sushi, but it’d probably be a while before I could stomach it again. What a horribly rude, argumentative woman. And what kind of name was “Afric” anyway?
I rarely said this about people, but I’d be happy if our paths never crossed again.
“You look like a brewing storm,” Grandma commented when I entered the kitchen. She stood by the cooker, removing a dish from the oven.
I sighed and took a seat by the table, rubbing the tension lines on my forehead.
“Is everything all right?” Rosie asked. She was already at the table, a worn paperback in front of her. My sister was never without a book. She’d graduated from university last year and managed to snag her dream job as a trainee librarian.
“Everything’s fine. I just met a particularly unpleasant person today, but with a bit of luck, I’ll never see her again, so every cloud and all that.”
“Oh?” Rosie said curiously as she pushed her glasses up her nose. Neither of us had managed to escape the short-sighted gene that seemed to run in our family. “Who was she?”
“Just a friend of Michaela’s,” I answered, hoping to change the subject. “Anyway, how was your day?”
Rosie smiled. “I convinced someone to give Neverwhere a try, so that’s another literary good deed completed.”
“She never gets tired of recommending books to people,” Grandma said fondly, her perceptive gaze coming to me. “Are you sure you’re okay? How are things with Leanne?”
I frowned at the mention of my boss/ex-crush. It had been over a year since I’d confessed my feelings for her, and aside from my current predicament managing Callum’s social media, I was completely over her. Unfortunately, Grandma still liked to check-in with me about the whole thing since I hadn’t had a girlfriend in the interim. She thought I was still pining, but I wasn’t. I’d moved on to an entirely new crush, but that was something I’d yet to discuss with my grandmother for various reasons.
“Things are fine with Leanne,” I replied. “I told you, it’s all in the past now. We’ve moved on from it.”
“Hmm, well, if you ask me, you’re a much better catch than that Callum. All those tattoos won’t age well. You mark my words.”
“I’m not sure the vast majority of the female British public would agree with you, Grandma, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
If you looked up “sexy, tattooed bad boy” in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of Cal.
“The vast majority must be blind if they can’t see what a fine gentleman you are. You’ll make some young lady very happy one day.”
I shifted, uncomfortable by all the fine gentleman talk. If my grandma knew the thoughts I’d had about Leanne, she might want to reconsider her words. Rosie grinned at me, enjoying my embarrassment, so I decided to turn the tables on her.
“What about Rosie? Do you think she’ll make some man very happy one day, too?”
“Oh, yes,” Grandma exclaimed. “Rosie is a smart, beautiful woman.” A pause as she studied my sister. “She could have men knocking down her door if she’d only put herself out there.”
“Grandma!” Rosie exclaimed, cheeks reddening.
“What?” Grandma retorted with a twinkle in her eye. “You know I’m right. You’d rather stick your head in a book on a Friday night than go out dancing. You might encounter some dashing heroes in the pages of a fantasy novel, but you’ll never meet a real one.”
“Real heroes are few and far between these days,” Rosie shot back. “If you ever tried those dating apps, you’d agree with me.”
“Have you ever tried them?” I questioned.
Rosie stiffened. “Well, no, but from what I’ve heard, I’m better off steering clear.”
At this, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw I had a new message from Annabelle. Remember the new crush I mentioned? Well, Annabelle was the lady I was currently pining after. Sadly, the entire situation had become far more complicated than I’d ever intended. Let’s just say my decision-making skills had been lacking when it came to Annabelle.
I was thinking about you a lot today.
I couldn’t help it. Her message piqued my curiosity. I typed a quick reply.
Oh?
It’s probably because I had a dream about you last night.
Now my curiosity was at optimum pique-age.
What was the dream about?
We were camping and there was only one sleeping bag…
I swallowed tightly. My cheeks heated against my will.
Did we share it?
We did.
I hope I kept you warm. x
Grandma cleared her throat as she placed my dinner down in front of me, and I quickly shoved my phone in my pocket. I
t was rude to text at the dinner table, even if the conversation was as interesting as the one Annabelle had started. Man, I really needed to come clean to her.
I just had to figure out how to do it without completely destroying our relationship and rendering myself unemployed.
2.
Afric
Okay, so … one thing you should know about me: if I’m rude or argumentative with you, it probably means that somewhere deep down in my psyche, I actually like you.
I’m not saying it’s a good thing. It just is what it is. Most people don’t understand that teasing is my special brand of affection, and you know what, that’s my fault. How can I expect virtual strangers to interpret the deep-seated issues in my head and translate Fuck off as Let’s be friends?
Being the second youngest of eight siblings meant I grew up fast. Winning arguments while also making my brothers and sisters laugh was big currency. And making them laugh often meant insulting one of them.
Maybe the fact that I’d spent most of my life not taking insults personally meant I was ill-equipped to understand people who did.
Neil Durant was one such person.
Yes, after our first meeting, I discovered his surname easily enough by surreptitiously quizzing Michaela. I then proceeded to look him up online. What? There was just something about him that rubbed me the wrong way enough to want to torture myself. For some reason, I needed to know what he was about. It was an itch that I couldn’t resist scratching, and I didn’t know how to explain it.
Sadly, though, when it came to social media, Neil went bare-bones, which only made me more curious.
Neil was my opposite; neatly dressed, professional, and reserved. And yet, behind all that, he had a look in his eyes that spoke to me. It drew me in. It was the look of a person who’d lost in life enough times to know that things didn’t always go your way. There was nothing I disliked more than people who always got what they wanted, having no idea that it wasn’t normal. I hated trying to explain a bad experience to someone who’d never had it happen to them. I felt like they were judging me, thinking that whatever happened, I’d somehow brought it upon myself and that it wasn’t the way of the world to lose far more often than you won.
So, yeah, going by first impressions, Neil and I didn’t get along, but despite that, I was intrigued. I sensed a lot more going on behind the conservative facade, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.
Don’t get me wrong; my interest wasn’t romantic. I’d learned my lesson the hard way not to go searching for love after being abandoned by one too many boyfriends. You might as well walk outside with your chest cavity wide open, waiting for the nearest careless fuckboy to tear your heart out.
No, thank you. Not for me. Not anymore.
If I wanted companionship, I made a friend. I endeavoured to be interested in people on an intellectual level only, a little like my gargoyle in Greenforest. Except, unlike him, I did enjoy sex from time to time. And if I wanted sex, I found someone to do it with then went on my merry way. Simple as.
Anyway, I didn’t think I’d run into Neil again, but several weeks after our ill-fated sushi lunch, Michaela asked me to do her a favour by covering for her at work for a few hours. She was in a tight squeeze, and I couldn’t say no. Besides, it might be fun to ruffle Neil’s feathers.
I took the Tube to Notting Hill, where Michaela and Neil’s bosses were hosting a screening of a special episode of Running on Air. When I arrived at the small boutique cinema, the place was still locked up. I pressed on the buzzer, and a few moments later, Neil’s voice came through.
“Hello?”
“Hey! It’s Afric. Remember me? Michaela asked me to cover for her for a few hours,” I replied, pulling the collar of my coat up to stave off the chill.
There was a noticeable pause on Neil’s end, and my lips began to curve in a grin. He definitely wasn’t pleased about me showing up, and the part of me that enjoyed riling him was amused by that.
I heard him clear his throat. “Why can’t Michaela be here?”
“Women’s issues. She’ll stop by later.”
Another pause. Oh, this was going to be fun. “Are you going to buzz me in or leave me standing out here all day?”
“I should be able to handle things on my own. You can go,” he replied stiffly.
“I’m not going anywhere. Now buzz me in before I freeze to death.”
“Listen, I’m very grateful to you for coming, but I really don’t need the help.”
Huh. So, he was going to be stubborn, eh? I exhaled heavily. “Is this about how things went at lunch last time? Because if it is, I’m sorry, okay? I don’t always mean to be a bitch. It just happens sometimes.”
Neil
“I don’t always mean to be a bitch. It just happens sometimes.”
She could say that again. It felt like the world was continually trying to test me, and Michaela’s friend Afric was one of the most aggravating people I’d ever met. The woman was a walking, talking annoyance, and I definitely didn’t have time to entertain her today. She struck me as the sort of person who made tasks take twice as long as they needed to, and there was nothing I hated more than time-wasters.
“Thank you for the apology, but as I said, I really don’t need any help.”
“Okay, well, could I use the bathroom before I go? I’ve come all the way from Brixton, and I’m busting for a pee. It’s also cold as balls out here.”
She looked up into the security camera, her big blue eyes pleading, and I had a brief pang of conscience. Even if she did annoy me, it wasn’t pleasant to make a journey only to be told to go home as soon as you got there. Grandma raised me to be a gentleman, and the least I could do was allow Afric to use the facilities before she made the journey back.
“Okay, then, I’ll buzz you in.”
I pressed the button to release the door then headed out to show her where the bathroom was.
“This place is fancy!” Afric exclaimed as she entered through the lobby. “Is this where posh people go when they want to see a movie? How the other half live, eh?”
“The ladies’ bathrooms are just through there,” I said, gesturing down the hall.
“Oh, yeah, I don’t need to go,” she waved me off. “I just said that so you’d let me in. Now, pull that stick out of your arse and let me help you. I know you can’t handle everything on your own.”
My lips formed a straight line as I levelled her with a hard stare. So, this was where being chivalrous got me. Tricked. I didn’t want her here, but she was right. Preparing for tonight’s event would be difficult to do solo. Perhaps I could just give her tasks and interact with her as little as possible.
I ran a hand down my face. “Okay, well, if you insist on being here, then come with me.”
I led her to the office at the back of the building and handed her the bundle of programs. “Place one of these on each seat inside the theatre.”
“And after I’m finished doing that?”
“Come find me, and I’ll give you something else to do.”
She saluted me. “Righteo.”
Afric left, and I was surprised by how easy that was. Maybe this would be okay. About twenty minutes later, I was taking a quick break to check the messages on my phone when someone crept up behind me.
“Who’s Annabelle?”
I bristled, stomach churning as I turned and found Afric standing behind me. How much had she seen? “Don’t you know it’s rude to read people’s messages like that?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m nosy. Can’t help it. So, what’s next?”
I glanced at the clock. “The caterers should be here any minute. Go wait out front and let them in when they arrive.”
She nodded but hesitated to leave, eyeing me with what appeared to be curiosity. “Is she your girlfriend?”
I frowned. “Who?”
She rolled her eyes like I was being dim. “Annabelle, who else.”
My lips firmed, and I shifted from
foot to foot under her scrutiny. “No. She’s just a friend.”
Afric started to smile. “But you’d like her to be your girlfriend?”
“That’s none of your business. Now, will you please go and wait for the caterers?”
She placed a hand on her hip and cocked her head. My attention wandered to the bottom half of her hair, which was still dyed bright blue. The top half had grown out a little, displaying her natural blonde roots. The blue ends matched her eyes, and they were … Okay, so I could admit her eyes were kind of spectacular. So bright they almost sparkled. I shook myself from the thought.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit rude?” Afric questioned.
“I’m rude?” I scoffed. She was one of the rudest people I’d ever met, and I worked as a PA for reality TV stars, so that was saying something.
“Yes, you are. I think you’re a bit of a snoot, too, to be honest,” she went on, a light behind her eyes like she enjoyed giving it to me straight.
I gaped at her. “I am not a snoot.”
Afric chuckled. “Oh, really? You’ve been looking down your nose at me since the day we met. If that’s not a snoot, then I don’t know what is.”
“I have not—” The loud noise of the buzzer for the front door went off, interrupting what I’d been about to say.
