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‘Minnie,’ he said, cutting her off, ‘I felt like such an idiot as soon as you left.’ He leant forward, putting his wine down on a side table and then propped an elbow on each knee. ‘We had such a great day together and I ruined it, I’m sorry.’
‘Well, they do say penguin poo is a real aphrodisiac.’
‘You don’t need to make a joke about everything, Minnie. I’m trying to do the decent thing here.’ Quinn closed his eyes but carried on talking. ‘I’m no good at relationships, I just endup hurting people. I’ve got my business, my mother – I don’t have the capacity to look after … for anything else.’
‘Quinn, it’s fine. It was a moment, I’m over it. Wow, do you have this much angst every time you almost kiss someone?’ Quinn made a face of embarrassed amusement. ‘Anyway, what makes you think I’d need looking after?’
‘Well, I know you’re now holding out for your knight on a shining unicorn.’
Minnie scrunched up her face. She knew she shouldn’t have told him all that stuff when he’d been drunk at the office.
‘Look, you don’t have to give me the whole “tortured loner” routine.’ Minnie rolled her eyes at him and his mouth twitched in the hint of a smile.
‘Is that what I’m doing? I wasn’t aware there was such a routine.’
‘Yeah, guys do it all the time,’ Minnie said, with a limp-wristed flap of her hand. ‘Poor me, I can’t get close to anyone because I had a tough childhood.’
She said it in a mocking voice, then flashed him a quick grin. Humour was the only way she knew to defuse an awkward conversation, the only way to salvage some sense of dignity in this dynamic.
‘Wow, OK. Sorry for being so obvious,’ he said, brushing his stubble with a palm and leaning back in his chair.
‘It’s fine, I forgive you. I’d just rather you were playing a more original character trope in this romcom. “Tortured commitment-phobe” is so nineties.’
‘Is it now?’ he laughed. ‘And who said we were in a romcom? If I’m going to be in any kind of film, I’d want it to be a thriller or an action movie.’
‘I don’t think management consultants get to be action heroes,’ said Minnie. She was relieved to be on safer ground. The elephant in the room had been dealt with. Now they could pack it up in a giant elephant-size box, bury it in the garden and never speak of it again. It could all just be banter and friendly conversation again.
‘So what film are you playing a leading lady in?’ Quinn asked.
Minnie bounced slightly in her chair. That second glass of wine had sent a buzz to her head. ‘Finding Nemo, when I had the fish tail on, but usuallyRatatouille. Maybe my genre is kids’ films.’
‘Ratatouille?’
‘It’s about a rat who’s a chef.’
‘You’re definitely not a rat, I see you in a superhero franchise,’ Quinn said, taking another sip of wine. ‘They’d call you Coco Nuts, and you’d take out all the bad guys by bashing their heads together with these enormous coconuts.’
Quinn glanced at the coconut bra lying between them on the sofa.
‘I don’t know if I could kill a man with those.’ There was a fruit bowl on the coffee table and Minnie reached out for a banana. ‘I think Coconut Girl would have some other fruit-themed weaponry up her sleeve.’ She held the banana against Quinn’s chest like a gun and Quinn raised his hands in surrender.
‘Ah Coco Nuts, we meet again. I see you have foiled my cunning plan to steal all the fruit in Fruitopolis.’ Quinn affected a deep American drawl.
‘You won’t get away with it this time,’ said Minnie, in a theatrical voice of her own.
‘Unfortunately for you, my superpowers involve telepathically forcing you to eat your own weapon,’ said Quinn, still in character.
‘I don’t think so, Evil Baddie Man,’ Minnie said.
‘Is that my name?’ Quinn asked in a stage whisper. ‘It’s not very good.’
‘You didn’t introduce yourself,’ Minnie deadpanned, trying to compose herself. ‘Very bad manners.’
Quinn reached for the banana, Minnie grabbed his elbow, and then followed what Minnie could only describe as a sort of play-fight, which ended up with Quinn pinning her to the sofa and taking the banana from her hand. Minnie suddenly felt very aware that she was not wearing a bra.
‘I’m not eating it,’ she said, still in character. ‘You can’t make me.’
‘Can’t I?’ said Quinn, his voice an even deeper drawl. ‘I have very persuasive powers.’ He peeled the banana and held a piece to her mouth. Minnie pretended some supernatural force was taking over her body.
