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7
Rebecca
I paid for my chicken caesar and bacon baguette and found us a seat in the far corner, brushing somebody else’s crumbs off the table with the side of my hand and then giving it a once-over with an anti-bac wipe. Val found it hilarious that I carried a packet around with me. I wondered whether we’d be able to hear each other over the drone of about a hundred and fifty other voices all jostling to be heard. Kingsway Pret at 1.30 on a Thursday afternoon had to be one of the noisiest places on earth, but it was close to the office and the sandwiches were nice.
Val slammed her black tray down on the table, falling into the seat opposite.
‘I’m starving,’ she said, ripping open a packet of crisps. ‘I think my stomach’s expanded. We went to Mum’s last night and I had at least three portions of pepper stew.’
‘I so need to taste your mum’s cooking again,’ I said wistfully, thinking back to Val and Ekon’s wedding last year. There had been two weeks of intermittent celebrations, and one of the highlights for me had been the breakfast buffet at Val’s mum’s the morning after their Nigerian ceremony. Even though I was desperately hung-over, I’d managed to put away two platefuls of akara (which Val had explained was a sort of bean cake), fried yam and plantain. Sitting around a table with other people and enjoying a meal was something I didn’t do very often. Mealtimes were quick and functional; something to be got over with, with as little effort as possible. But it had been nice to do it that once at the wedding. And to remember what it had been like when I’d had my own family to do it with.
‘Have you seen that shiny American guy swanning round the office?’ said Val, digging into her sandwich. ‘Talk about polished. I noticed he had these lace-up leather shoes that probably cost more than I earn in a week.’
I laughed softly. Tyler had certainly made an impact; everyone seemed to have an opinion on him. ‘I met him at that hotel last month, didn’t I?’ I reminded her. ‘At that place Amanda thought would be perfect for the summer party.’
‘It wasn’t right for it though, you said?’ commented Val in between mouthfuls.
I tore a piece off the end of my baguette, thinking back to that night. It had all been purely professional at first; I’d been covering for Amanda, who had cried off at the last minute, citing a medical emergency. I believed her, actually, since there was no way she’d voluntarily miss out on the chance to suck up to someone more senior than she was.
I’d been waiting for the American CEO upstairs on the roof terrace of the hotel, having navigated the intimidating lobby with its resident DJ and pretentious staff dressed entirely in white linen. It was marginally less fake-holistic on the roof and admittedly the view was spectacular. The Shard stood shimmering in the distance; to the right was the London Eye and, below us, the rooftops of the National Gallery. Chilled-out dance music pumped out of the speakers, although I couldn’t imagine who would want to sit up here in December. It’d be lovely in the summer, though, I could see that.
‘Excuse me? Rebecca?’
I turned towards the smooth American voice and smiled. The man standing next to me was tall and handsome. Film-star handsome. Everything about him oozed money and confidence and he was immaculately groomed – he had the designer suit, the cropped salt-and-pepper hair, teeth that dazzled, even in this half-light.
I shook his hand. ‘Really lovely to meet you, Mr Martin.’
‘Please, call me Tyler.’
He moved in next to me and whistled in admiration. ‘Nice view,’ he said.
He smelled clean and expensive, a woody, spicy fragrance that was probably something by Tom Ford. He seemed like a Tom Ford kind of guy. I, on the other hand, felt massively scruffy in my black jeans and cream polo-neck jumper combo; if I’d known about the meeting in advance, I could have worn my Reiss trouser suit, the smartest (and most expensive) item I owned.
‘Apologies for the weather,’ I said, as a particularly sharp gust of wind plastered my hair across my face. I scraped it off again, ramming it behind my ears.
Tyler laughed. ‘That’s England for you, huh? Anyhow, New York is under a foot of snow. I was lucky to get a flight out.’
We turned back to the view. Surely he’d be impressed by the London skyline if nothing else. It always took my breath away, even though I’d lived here all my life.
‘What’s that super-old building?’ he asked, pointing at a church across the square.
‘Um, St Martin-in-the Fields, I think,’ I said, squinting to make it out. ‘It’s really beautiful inside, you should see it. It dates all the way back to the seventeen hundreds, I think.’
‘See, this is what I love about London,’ said Tyler, shaking his head, seemingly in awe. ‘All that history, everywhere you look.’
I smiled across at him. Americans were always impressed by stuff like that. I’d felt similarly in awe when Dan and I had gone to New York for our tenth anniversary. It had permanently felt as if we were on a set, coming across location after location we recognised from film and TV. I’d taken rolls of photos. Not that I’d looked at them since Dan had left. I couldn’t bear to see how happy we’d been then.
‘So, on first impressions, what are your thoughts on having the summer party up here?’ I asked, keen to get out of my own head. ‘There are lots of cosy spaces for people to sit and chat. And we could do the awards ceremony over there, with the London Eye as a backdrop. What dates were you thinking of? July or August, presumably, although, of course, we can’t count on the weather even then.’
He hesitated. ‘Can I be honest with you, Rebecca?’
‘Of course.’
I mentally prepared myself. What was he going to say?
‘I don’t like it,’ he said, looking sideways at me. ‘It’s trying too hard to be cool. The ridiculous lighting, the pseudo-trendy music – it wasn’t what I envisaged, and I’m kinda disappointed. Was this place your idea?’
Tempting as it was, I wasn’t about to throw Amanda under the bus, even if she had totally dropped me in it. It was my own fault for agreeing to cover for her; I needed to learn to say no once in a while. ‘Not entirely,’ I said, choosing my words carefully. ‘It was a joint effort. But Amanda has exquisite taste and is extremely knowledgeable about the industry. I can see why she thought this would be perfect.’
