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Estelle tried to look innocent. ‘No, there wasn’t. Should there have been?’
He shook his head.
Silence.
‘So… Coffee?’
He gave her a curt nod and left.
James soon returned, carrying a cappuccino.
He stood by her desk. ‘And where am I meant to put this?’
Estelle leapt to her feet, her slippers coming to life. ‘Let me clear a space.’
Moving some papers to one side, she found a coaster that read ‘Coffee. Because adulting is hard’.
James was silent, his gaze on the mug as he placed it down.
Estelle breathed in deeply, filling her head with the incredible scent of him. Whatever cologne he was wearing seemed to be half pheromone and half tractor beam, pulling her into the heart of the Death Star. She held her breath, but the smell was already inside her, making hot, dirty love to every cell.
No, no, no, no, no!
James’s chest rose and his nostrils flared.
Oh, shit. He can smell his girlfriend’s perfume. Quick! Do something!
She jumped on the spot, activating her mood-killing slippers.
‘Thanks for the coffee!’ she enthused, lifting it up. ‘Did you attempt a pattern in the foam?’
Turning abruptly, James went to his desk, standing by it with his back to her.
‘You’ve covered the top with cocoa powder,’ she continued. ‘But underneath it looks like you’ve tried to create something, then given up and rubbed it out with a spoon.’
If he’d been still before, now it seemed he’d been turned to stone.
Bingo! ‘There’s no shame in trying.’ She tried to sound kind, and not gleefully smug that her hunch had been right. ‘It took Henry at least a week before he mastered it.’
James huffed, then went around the side of his desk, sat, and flipped his laptop open.
Estelle hid her grin inside her mug as she took a sip. Oh, my god, that’s good. Tapping the foot that jingled, then the one that whinnied and galloped, she tried to work out from James’s micro-expressions which one irritated him the most.
His eyebrows were drawn together, his fingers hammering at the keyboard.
‘What are you doing?’
He ignored her.
Putting her coffee down, she clip-clopped around her desk and made her way over to his.
His fingers moved faster, then he punched the return key and slammed the lid down before she could see what he’d been doing.
She pouted. ‘Aww, you’re no fun.’
His gaze flicked to her desk. ‘And you’re Comic Sans all the way.’
‘Comic Sans?’ she spluttered. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
