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We stood there awkwardly, neither of us quite knowing what to do next. I supposed I ought to apologise; I hadn’t reacted in the most helpful way, in hindsight, but he’d caught me at a bad time. On the other hand, I thought he should be the one to say sorry first – he’d completely overstepped the mark with his condescending tone. No, I was still too wound up to do the whole heartfelt apology thing; there was no point if I didn’t mean it.
‘Bye, then,’ I said, thinking there was no need to keep standing here like an idiot when Tyler – a mature, normal human being – was downstairs waiting for me in the lobby.
‘Thanks for dropping it round,’ he mumbled after me.
I did some kind of bizarre half-wave thing and turned away as he closed the door.
When I got down to the ground floor, Tyler was busy scrolling through his phone. ‘You do realise we’re going to have to get the tube into Holborn, don’t you?’ I said, bustling past him. ‘You can’t get a cab at this time of day, the traffic’s a nightmare.’
‘So I’m gonna have to get squished like a sardine on an ancient subway train with no air conditioning, is that what you’re telling me, Rebecca?’ he replied.
I looked over my shoulder at him, surprised. He wasn’t usually the teasing kind. I wondered whether that was what made things feel uncomfortable between us, the fact that he was quite serious. I wasn’t sure he’d made me laugh out loud once. Even Dan had had me cracking up on occasion. Maybe it was a British/American thing; a sense of humour disconnect, although it did make a change to be with someone with a more mature, earnest way of looking at things.
‘By the way,’ I said, just so it was clear, ‘we probably shouldn’t walk into the office together.’
‘I completely agree,’ he replied. ‘I can grab a coffee first, then I’ve got back-to-back meetings. And I need to prep my departmental presentation ready for tomorrow.’
I nodded, relieved. ‘Yeah, I saw you were doing that.’
The invitation had been circulated a couple of weeks ago and had been the topic of conversation for days afterwards.
COME AND MEET TYLER MARTIN, CEO OF KINGSLAND MARKETING NYC. FIND OUT HOW HE PLANS TO ELEVATE THE UK OFFICE TO THE NEXT LEVEL AND HELP US TAP INTO THE US MARKET.
There had been great excitement. My friend Freya, who sat at the desk opposite mine, had chirpily informed me that she’d heard he looked like George Clooney (which, I suppose, he did a bit, from a distance and if you squinted).
‘It’s just that it’s kind of a gossipy office,’ I said to Tyler now, opening the front door for him because you had to yank the handle a certain way that no visitor could ever manage. ‘And there’s that promotion coming up. You know, the head of press and marketing position? I’m hoping to get it.’
I didn’t tell him that it wasn’t something I’d ever really planned, but it was the next step up, and everyone was expecting me to apply, so I felt like I had to.
He followed me outside, looking me up and down as though he was supremely impressed. ‘I like your confidence.’
‘I did say hoping.’
‘And you don’t want people saying you got the job because of me, right?’ He winked.
I nodded. ‘Exactly. I definitely do not want that.’
God, that would be the worst. I wanted to get the job because I was the best candidate, not because someone I’d slept with twice had put in a good word for me. Not that I thought he would; he seemed much too professional to blur the boundaries like that.
‘My lips are sealed, Rebecca,’ he said, slipping on his Ray-Bans, even though it was a freezing-cold January morning and the sun was nowhere to be seen.
