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Ben smiles and nods in agreement.
“Well, Ben’s a big boy. He can do whatever he wants,” I reply.
“No, he cannot!” Natasha snaps. “Fuck, find me some wine, Abs. She’s gone mad.”
I hear the refrigerator open. “There’s only this…” I hear Abbie mutter.
“Why do you have such shit wine in your fridge?” Natasha snaps
“Because I don’t have a fucking wine cellar,” I snap back. “Will you two get out of my house?”
“No. We’re waiting for you,” Abbie calls.
I roll my eyes and Ben smirks.
“Yeah, I know what car Ben is in. Let’s stalk him,” Natasha replies.
“We can take the bitch out,” Abbie suggests.
Ben’s mouth drops open in horror.
I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing. Oh, God, they’re going to give away all my secrets here.
“I’m not with Ben; he can date whoever he wants to,” I tell them.
“You’re not with Eric, are you?” Natasha snaps. “Oh, my God, she’s with Eric,” she whispers to Abbie.
Abbie snatches the phone from Natasha. “Don’t make me hurt you. You better not be back with that tool. He does want us all in fucking prison, remember?”
I laugh. Oh, God… these two are idiots. “Get your busy-body noses out of my business. I’m going now.”
Natasha gets back on the phone. “You better ring Ben.”
“I’m not ringing Ben.” I glance over and Ben’s eyes are dancing with delight as he listens.
“He’s come back for you, and you’re over there playing hard to get. It’s fucking ridiculous. You snooze, you lose.”
I roll my eyes.
“Oh, can I borrow your pink dress for tomorrow night? I have that work party,” Abbie asks.
I frown, and Ben points to the street we’re meant to be turning onto.
“You still have my black one.” I frown.
“No, I brought it back.”
“When?”
“Just now.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, fine, just don’t wreck it.”
“Okay then. Well, Abbie and I are going to try and find out who Ben’s with. We’re going back to my house to interrogate Joshua,” Natasha tells me.
“Do you have good wine?” Abbie asks her in the background.
“I have great wine,” Tash mutters. “And chips and dip.”
“Hell, yeah,” I hear Abbie reply.
I giggle as I imagine poor Joshua putting up with these two’s questions as they drink.
“Bye, girls,” I call.
“See you tomorrow. Oh…” Natasha pauses. “I’m going to invite Ben to Mum’s for dinner on Sunday night. You’re coming.”
I smirk. “Don’t bother.”
“I already asked him,” she cries, and then hangs up in a rush so I can’t say anything more.
Ben puts my phone in my bag and smirks as he looks out through the windscreen.
I glance over and smile. “Don’t say a word,” I mutter.
He holds his hands up and smiles broadly. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Ten minutes later, we pull into park at an out-of-the-way Italian restaurant when Ben’s phone rings. He pulls it out and smirks when he sees the name and holds it up for me to see: Natasha.
I laugh and shake my head. These two girls, honestly. What are they up to now?
He answers and puts it on speaker. “Hey, Tash.”
“Oh, hi, Ben,” she answers sweetly. “I just called to see if you wanted to come to dinner at Mum’s on Sunday night.”
He smiles. “Yeah, okay, thanks. What time?”
“Ahh... about seven. Also, will I see you tonight when you get back to our place?”
He frowns. “Ah, no. I’m going to stay at my new place tonight.”
“But you don’t have any furniture yet?”
I shake my head and grin as Ben rolls his eyes. “That’s okay, I don’t need furniture, I will come over tomorrow and see you.”
“Well, Abbie and I are just in the neighbourhood. We might call by to see your place,” she continues.
I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing. They are trying to find out where he is. This is spying at its absolute worst.
“I’m not at home.” He frowns as he thinks. “I’m out with an old work friend.”
“Who’s that?” Tash asks without hesitation. Honestly, does she have no shame?
“You don’t know him, Tash,” he replies.
“Oh.” She stays silent for a moment, and Ben smiles broadly. He’s used to her after all these years.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he asks.
“Hmm.” She pauses and then we can hear Abbie whisper something. “Have you seen Bridget?” she asks.
Ben laughs, unable to help it. “No, I haven’t.”
I scrunch my eyes shut in embarrassment. Honestly, these two are ridiculous.
“Okay then.” She thinks for a moment again, as if distracted. “See you tomorrow night.”
“Bye, Tash.” He hangs up. “I feel sorry for Stan tonight,” he mutters under his breath.
“So do I.” I laugh. “So do I.”
The restaurant is dark, almost moody, and we’re sitting in the back corner at a cosy table for two, waiting for dessert. Our conversation has been easy, fun, and it’s like a weight has been lifted from the both of us. It feels so good to talk to him, and perhaps this is what we both needed: some privacy to take the pressure off.
