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“The one and only.”
Her eyes light up as I join her on my beanbag, placing the boxes between us. “Wasn’t sure what toppings you like, so I went for the two safest bets.”
Amber gingerly lifts the lid on the boxes. “Cheese and…pepperoni. So daring of you, Finn.”
That’s the third time she’s used my name now. I don’t think she’s even realised.
“What’s your usual topping of choice?” I ask as I unearth the pile of napkins I’d shoved into my pocket and hand half of them to her. “For future reference.”
“Mushrooms and sausage. Oh, and it’s got to be covered in hot sauce.”
I pretend to gag. “Mushrooms and sausage covered in hot sauce? Sweetheart, that’s disgusting. A waste of perfectly good pizza, even.”
She laughs as she tugs a slice free and brings it to her lips. “Don’t knock it until you try it.” She bites into the slice and closes her eyes, humming contentedly as she chews. “So. Damn. Good.”
I grab a slice from the pepperoni box and quickly discover that she’s not exaggerating. “Thisispretty good. For a non-New York pizza, I mean.”
She rolls her eyes. “Ah yes, that old stereotype.”
“It’s not a stereotype if it’s true.”
“Well, if I ever make it over there you’ll have to take me to your favourite pizza place andthenI’ll make my final decision.”
“Sure. It’s a date.”
She hums and I can’t tell if she’s blushing or if she’s just finally getting some more life back into her after eating. “Do you take a lot of your dates out to get pizza then?”
I know she’s trying to sound indifferent, but there’s a slight edge to her tone that betrays her.
“I don’t go on many dates,” I tell her honestly.
She snorts. “Sure you don’t.”
“Why is that so difficult to believe?” I ask, brow raised.
“Becauselook at you,” she says, sounding somewhere between amused and exasperated. She waves a pizza-laden hand in my direction, the greasy slice flopping up and down as she moves. “I don’t know if you’re fishing for a compliment or what, but I’m pretty sure you’re not lacking for romantic attention.”
“Is that the closest you’re going to get to calling me hot?”
Her cheeks flush unmistakably, but she holds her ground and stares back at me with defiant eyes. “Absolutely.”
I laugh. “Then I’ll take it. But seriously, I really don’t date often.” There have been a few random flings over the years, but nothing serious and they all end the same way. “Too busy with work.”
“That—” She cuts herself off and shakes her head. “Never mind.”
“No, go on.” I scootch my beanbag even closer to hers and bump her leg with mine. “Say it.”
The look she shoots me is slightly bashful. “I was just going to say…That it’s sad. That you don’t date because of work. You’re a good guy, Finn and I know this is going to sound incredibly hypocritical coming from me of all people, but work isn’t everything.”
“You and Nel would get along very well.”
She gives me a sad smile. “I’m glad you have someone in your corner back home. Even if you don’t listen to her.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes. I don’t know if there’s something on her mind or if she’s just giving me the space to stew in my thoughts before I say something else.
“How’d you start working with Cynthia?” I ask.
Amber frowns, looking confused at the sudden change in topic. “I applied for an assistant role with her not long after I graduated university. I was so happy the day I got the email saying that she’d chosen me for the role.” She chuckles quietly under her breath. “Little did I know. Why’re you asking? Looking for a change in career?”
