He sits down in Gordon’s old seat, his leg casually brushing against mine. It’s very possible that I might implode. He looks at me for a second. ‘You were much chattier before you knew I was here. Cat got your tongue?’
‘My name is Cat. So . . . y’know. Kind of . . .’
What the hell am I saying? This man is making me nervous.
Kerry face-palms and I’m on the verge of grabbing my coat. He just laughs. ‘Hmm. Well, I can see why you keep quiet, Cat.’
‘So if you’re not an actor, what is it you do then?’ I ask confidently, trying to redeem myself. ‘I’m guessing marketing or PR? You look comfortable in this environment. Ha, maybe you organized it. If so, terrible wine and boring speeches.’
‘Wrong again,’ he replies. ‘I actually hate this shit – half of these people are morons. Adrian invited most of the guests, so it’s his fault really. Anyway, you’re both terrible at this game, so let me put you out of your misery.’
Suddenly he jumps upon his chair and commands the attention of the room. ‘Ladies and gentlemen! Apologies for my tardiness. I am Dylan Morrison, co-owner of the new Filmhouse, and I’d like to thank you all for coming to what Adrian and I hope will be an exciting and lucrative venture. I won’t bore you with another speech, so please get back to your drinks and enjoy the rest of your evening.’
He sits down to applause and takes a long swig from his beer. ‘Unfortunately, I’m going to have to go and mingle now, but it’s been a pleasure.’
Kerry and I sit open-mouthed as he swaggers off towards the middle of the room, instantly surrounded by people who’ve been waiting all night to meet him. I can’t take my eyes off him. Kerry laughs. ‘I did not see that coming. I really like him. You should marry him. We could come here for free.’
I’m laughing too. ‘You called him self-important and I insulted his business partner AND the booze. Maybe we should leave.’
She thinks for a moment. ‘You’re probably right, but let’s have one more drink first? Be a shame to see this awful wine go to waste.’ Before I can answer, she’s heading back to the bar and I nip to the toilet.
On my way back to the bar I bump into Patrick. He’s nursing a whisky and chatting to three women, who strangely enough don’t seem in any hurry to get the fuck away from him. His intoxicated face is the same colour as his dark-pink tie.
‘Did Gordon leave already?’ he asks. ‘I was hoping to share a cab with him.’
‘Ages ago. He had plans with his wife.’
Patrick looks displeased but continues sipping his whisky. ‘Not to worry.’
‘Where do you live?’ asks the woman to Patrick’s right. ‘I can drop you.’
Patrick looks as amazed as I do. ‘Near the Saltmarket,’ he stammers. ‘And that would be great.’
For fuck’s sake, it look as if even Patrick will be getting some action this evening. I leave him to it and head back to my table, where Kerry is once more chatting to Dylan. I’m stunned he came back. Perhaps we didn’t offend him after all. I reclaim my seat and take a sip of the wine Kerry’s placed in front of me.
Dylan smiles at me. ‘So, we’ve established what I do for a living, and Kerry was just telling me she works in finance. What do you do?’
‘I write for the Tribune supplement,’ I reply. ‘Features, interviews, that kind of thing.’
‘Interesting.’
‘I work beside him.’ I point over to Patrick, who’s just heading out the door with his female friend. How the hell did he pull?
‘Him? That’s odd. I asked him who you were and he said he’d never seen you before in his life.’
‘Yes, that Patrick is such a joker!’ I reply drily.
‘You asked who Cat was?’ Kerry interjects with a grin. ‘And why might that be?’
I feel my face go red. He pauses for a moment, then chuckles. ‘Because I wanted to know! I didn’t send the invites, remember.’
I’m secretly elated that he asked who I was. He totally fancies me—
‘But sadly, ladies, I must be leaving.’
Or maybe not.
He takes a final slug from his beer bottle before placing it down on the table in front of me.
