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‘You’re right, of course,’ she replies. ‘That was the one thing that I found myself wondering when Wade asked me to move in. “Am I accepting second best here? What if he’s not as fertile as Jonathan?” I’ve encouraged him to manspread as much as possible at home, to give the boys some ventilation, but it’s still a risk.’
I smile, pleased at having deflected the conversation back onto her. I love Ruth to bits and I’d like nothing more than to tell her the truth, but my true relationship status has to remain a deeply guarded secret, especially from her.
2
It’s only a couple of short bus rides from the office to the flat so, despite a detour to pick up a few groceries, it’s only just gone seven o’clock when I get back. I’m expecting to find my boyfriend sitting at the breakfast bar, still poring over his laptop, so it’s a bit of a surprise to find him relaxing in front of the TV.
‘What’s this?’ I ask him. ‘Slacking off? That’s very unlike you.’
‘To be honest, Els, I’ve been over this bloody thing so many times, I don’t think I can tweak it any more. I’ve decided to let it rest.’
After dumping my coat and laptop bag in the cupboard by the front door and putting away the groceries, I pour us each a large glass of the red wine I know he likes and take them over to the sofa, planting a kiss on his head as I sit down.
‘Are you confident?’ I ask, as I lean into him and he puts his arm around me. Even after a long day, he still smells delicious.
‘As much as I can be,’ he replies, wearily. ‘You know what it’s like. I could go through it again, and I’m sure I’d find something I want to change. I reckon I’m at the stage now where I can’t polish this turd of a presentation any more. It’s time to roll it in glitter and put it to bed.’
‘I hope it’s not a turd!’
‘No, but you know what I mean.’
‘I bought steak to give you stamina, but I’m going to grab a quick shower first and wash the day off. OK?’
‘Good idea. I’ll go in after you,’ he replies as I pick up my glass of wine and head for the bedroom.
You may be wondering why Lee and I have to keep our relationship secret. After all, he’s not married or seeing anyone else, so there’s no logical reason why we should have to skulk about under everyone’s radar. The truth is that Orchestra has very firm views about office romances. On the day I joined, the HR person responsible for my ‘onboarding’ took me through a long list of company policies, one of which included the policy on employees dating each other, which was basically a no-no.
‘Listen,’ she’d told me when I’d raised my eyebrows. ‘Obviously we can’tdictatehow you run your personal life, but it’s better for everyone if office relations stay firmly platonic. If you were to form a romantic attachment with a colleague, and that relationship were to turn sour, I’m sure you can understand that a toxic break-up in an office environment poisons more than the two people directly involved. What I’m trying to say,’ she’d continued when I had evidently looked completely nonplussed, ‘is that we can’t forbid you from having a relationship with a colleague, but it would be very severely frowned upon.’
‘If you don’t mind me saying, that seems slightly draconian. I’m not planning on dating anyone at work, but surely my private life is just that?’
She’d sighed. ‘You’re right, of course. The reason we have this policy is that there was an incident a couple of years ago that left a nasty taste in everyone’s mouth. Management therefore decided to implement this policy to try to prevent anything similar from happening again.’
I’d nodded my understanding and we’d continued working our way through the rest of the company policies, which were totally predictable. Being drunk at work was out, as was being high on drugs. There was a long list of things that could lead to instant dismissal, and an even longer list that could lead to disciplinary action. I happily signed on the dotted line, confident that there would be no problem.
And there wasn’t, until Lee turned up halfway through my first week.
When I was at school, my friends and I used to amuse ourselves by finding sex scenes in books and reading them out loud to each other, often shrieking hysterically in the process. One thing that was guaranteed to set us off was when a man was described as ‘smouldering’. We used to draw little stick men with smoke coming off them to emphasise how ridiculous a description it was. I still believed it to be a nonsense, right up to the day I met Lee. I can clearly remember the first time I laid eyes on him.
You know how, if you look out of a window without moving your eyes for a long time, and then squeeze them tightly shut, you can still see the image? My first impression of Lee is burned into my mind like that. He was wearing a charcoal-grey suit that fitted him so well, it was like a mould he’d been poured into, black Oxford shoes that had been shined almost to a mirror finish, a crisp, white shirt without a single crease, and a blue and yellow, silk tie. He’d walked over to the hot desk opposite mine and hung his jacket carefully on the back of the chair, before leaning over the partition to introduce himself. His voice was deep and rich, causing my insides to resonate in a most unsettling manner as he spoke. And all of this was before I had a chance to properly take in his face. Oh, yes, Lee Johnson definitely smouldered. His eyes were so dark, they were almost black, and there was a mesmerising intensity to them; when he looked at you, it felt like you were the only person in the world besides him. His high cheekbones and strong chin framed a mouth that you just knew would be heaven to kiss, but would also leave you filled with regret the next morning. His handshake was warm and appropriately firm, and a whiff of expensive aftershave trailed behind him wherever he went.
I took an instant dislike to him.
I knew his type all too well and it was obvious that a man who dressed and looked the way he did would be incredibly arrogant and full of himself. Thankfully, the nature of his job meant that he rarely came to the office, but I couldn’t help noticing that he sought out the hot desk opposite mine every time he did. To begin with, I assumed he just liked that particular desk, but when I went through a phase of moving around, sitting at different desks for a bit of variety (sad, I know) he still sat opposite me whenever he could.
‘Are you stalking me?’ I’d asked him one morning, as he hung his jacket on the back of the chair and began settling himself into the desk opposite me again.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Every time you come in, you sit opposite me, even when there are a number of other desks available. Do I need to be worried? Are you going to start following me home?’ I’d smiled to try to indicate that I was teasing him, but I don’t think he got the memo.
‘I’m sorry,’ he’d replied, looking deadly serious. ‘I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. Would you rather I sat somewhere else?’
I’d thought about it. Deep down, part of me wanted to say that yes, I would prefer him to sit somewhere else, but it sounded petty when I tested it in my head and there was no way that I was going to admit that I found him a little distracting, so I’d just smiled again and told him he was fine where he was and did my best to ignore him.
‘I’m going down to the coffee shop, would you like something?’ he’d then asked, mid-morning. I was somewhat taken aback; apart from our earlier conversation where I’d accused him of stalking me, we’d hardly spoken to each other since he’d first introduced himself. I wasn’t sure how to respond. On the one hand, I didn’t want to be in his debt, but I also didn’t want to turn him down and appear even more rude than I had at the start of the day.
‘I can never decide what I want. I tell you what, I’ll walk down there with you,’ I’d replied eventually. My plan was simple. I’d pay for my own coffee (a skinny latte – I’m a creature of habit, but he didn’t need to know that) to avoid being indebted to him, and I’d also manage to avoid being rude at the same time.
