I accepted, smiling graciously. Coffee is important to me, regardless of who’s making it.
I sat at one of the tables in the middle of the room and took off my rain-soaked coat, hanging it over the seat. Water began to pool on the floor underneath.
‘Oh God, I’m making a mess here, sorry,’ I apologised. ‘I’m dripping all over the place.’
‘That’s what she said,’ he replied, sniggering as he brought some coffee over.
Oh dear God. He’s one ofthem. I bet he knows Brian.
I didn’t bother laughing. I’m fed up humouring men who aren’t funny. Instead I opened my folder and clicked my pen.
‘So,’ I began, ‘you had a decent response—’
‘Sugar?’
‘One, please.’
‘—from the adverts we ran?’
‘I have no idea,’ he replied. ‘Yes, we were busy, but we always are. It’s hard to gauge response.’
My coffee was far too hot but I sipped regardless. ‘There are promotions you could run which might help with that. Say, offers on our ads for discounted drinks, etc. That’s a good way—’
‘Are you single?’
‘I . . . excuse me?’
‘Did I stutter? Are you single?’
‘I don’t see how that’s relevant, but no. Can we get back to this?’
‘Married then?’
I closed my folder. ‘Why are you asking me this?’
‘Because I’d like to take you out.’ He dragged his chair a little closer and I felt his foot rub against mine.
Lucy was right. Of course she was, she’s Lucy.
‘You would?!’ I exclaimed. ‘How lovely. Well, in that case, no, I’m not married.’
He grinned. ‘Great, well, we could—’
‘But I do have a daughter. A big one. You don’t have a problem with kids, right?’
His grin began to fade.
‘I know that some men are allI’m not taking on someone else’s child,’ I continued, ‘but I don’t get that vibe from you, Jay. How much do you make here?’
‘What? Um . . . I . . .’
‘Oh, I’m sure it’s enough for us. And Molly loves all the bars I take her to. She’ll have fun here.’
He squirmed uncomfortably, looking towards the door as if he was expecting help to appear at any minute.
‘Now, I should warn you. Once I tell her dad – we’re seeing each other – he won’t be happy. He rarely is. I blame it on all the bare-knuckle fighting he did as a kid in Ireland but just stand your ground. Actually, maybe just run – he’s tall but he’s not fast.’
‘Jesus, Phoebe, I get it! Enough.’
