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“This is Curtis and Danny,” she introduces.
“And they are?” asks Arthur.
“Filling in for Leon and Max,” she replies. He decides not to push, instead sighing heavily and checking his mobile.
Dinner arrives and the starter is some kind of slime in a shell. I stare at it. “What’s this?”
“Oyster,” Arthur whispers.
“Didn’t we get a choice?”
“Just eat the salad dressing if you don’t like it,” he mutters, checking his phone for the hundredth time.
“Are you mad with me?” I ask, pushing my plate away.
He eyes the food I’m clearly not going to eat in irritation. “What?”
“You’re being really off with me, and I’m trying to work out if it’s because you’re mad at me for this morning.”
“How come you brought the office girl?” asks Jolene, interrupting us.
“That’s rude,” I mutter, more to myself.
“Excuse me?” she asks, arching a brow.
“Meli, enough,” Arthur warns, staring at his phone again. Jolene gives a smirk before tipping the slimy food into her mouth.
“I love oysters,” she adds, taking Arthur’s and placing it to his lips. He frowns, still staring at the phone but tipping his head back so the oyster slips down his throat. I want to laugh, or maybe scream, because who the fuck does this bitch think she is? He continues to tap away without noticing my discomfort. “You need to look after yourself, Arthur,” she says, squeezing his arm in an affectionate manor. “Business can wait while you eat.”
“Huh?” he asks, clearly distracted.
“You look stressed,” she continues, rubbing her hand over his thigh. He frowns at it before shaking her off. A man from across the table strikes up a conversation with Arthur, and he puts his phone away to talk about planning permission on a new build he wants. The second course comes out and I’m thankful it’s steak and salad.
“Rumours are circulating,” one of the men at the table says, and Arthur’s face hardens. “Is a street gang moving in on your patch?”
“With all due respect,” Arthur mutters in a dangerously low voice, “I’m here with my beautiful date, not to discuss street rats.”
I almost scoff. He’s hardly spoken a word to me all evening. Jolene narrows her eyes. “Date?” she repeats. “You’re dating your office junior?”
“Junior?” I laugh.
“You’ve got to be at least ten years younger,” she assesses, rolling her eyes.
“Jealousy is an ugly colour on you,” I snap.
Arthur glares at me. “Enough,” he growls.
I throw my napkin down on the table and scrape my chair back as I stand. “Fuck you,” I hiss, grabbing my jacket from the back of my chair and marching off.
The place is busy with people mingling around other people’s tables so they can talk business. I look around frantically, trying to find a way out. I spot Arthur rushing after me and curse under my breath. Spotting a fire exit, I head that way and shove the door hard. An alarm immediately sounds and an emergency light flashes above the door. I freeze, not daring to turn around because the entire room is now silent. Arthur presses his mouth close to my ear. “That’s not the way out,” he whispers.
“No fucking shit,” I hiss.
He reaches around me and pulls the door closed. The alarm stops, and I sag with relief. “Now, let’s go and sit back down.”
The room begins to move again, and voices drown each other out. “No,” I say firmly.
I turn to find him smirking. His hand rests above my head as he stares down at me. “No?” he repeats.
