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Hannah cleared her throat meaningfully and narrowed her eyes, causing her eyebrows to join in a single line that brooked no nonsense.
I caved so easily, it was almost embarrassing. ‘Okay. I might have plans for this evening,’ I said. The eyebrows rose, demanding more information. ‘All right, if you must know, I have a date. I’m going out with Finn Douglas.’
‘I knew it!’ Hannah declared in triumph, thumping the mattress with her fist before picking up the sandwich again. ‘I absolutely knew this would happen.’
‘What? When exactly did you know? BecauseIdidn’t even know until last night.’
Hannah shook her head impatiently. ‘I knew it years ago, when the two of you first met. I knew then that it was only the first chapter of your story together.’
‘Oh, you did, did you?’ I said, hoping to sound sceptical when what I really felt was intrigued.
‘No one takes that much of an instant dislike to a total stranger without there being more to it.’
Part of me wanted to buy into Hannah’s fairy-tale-romance story, but it was so full of holes, it was practically a sieve.
‘You like him, don’t you?’ Hannah pushed, her voice full of glee now that I’d finally relented and given her a blow-by-blow account of everything that had happened after I’d left the hospital the night before.
‘He’s okay,’ I said with a feigned nonchalance that did not cover the flotilla of butterflies that kept taking off and landing in my stomach whenever I thought of the evening ahead. ‘He might not be as bad as I first thought,’ I added, hoping to put her off the trail, but she was part best friend and part bloodhound.
‘I can see exactly how this is going to end,’ she said delightedly, actually clapping her hands in glee in a way I’d always thought no one ever did in real life.
Except she couldn’t know, of course. Not really. How could anyone?
*
He brought me flowers. It was the first surprise in an evening that turned out to be full of them.
I’d been lurking in my hallway, never straying too far from the doorbell intercom, and yet I still jumped when the buzzer sounded beside me.
‘Hi. I’m here. Can I come up?’
I gulped, which I hoped the occasionally dodgy intercom system hadn’t picked up. My usually tidy flat looked as though it had been burgled or struck by a twister. I’d left quite a trail of devastation in my attempt to be ready on time. Thankfully, the worst of the mess was confined to my bedroom, and Finn certainly wasn’t going to be invited in there – well, not tonight, at least. The thought brought a flush to my cheeks that I didn’t even bother trying to fan away.
‘Sure, come on up. I’m on the fifth floor.’
The lift was always slow to respond to a summons, and for once I was grateful as I studied my reflection one last time in the hallway mirror. My hair had gone better than I could have hoped. I’d styled it in soft, tousled curls, which was a nice contrast to the simple lines of my new red shift dress. Even after eighteen months, it still occasionally took me by surprise when I saw a blonde-haired me staring back from the looking glass. Did Finn even remember I’d been a redhead when we’d met years ago or wasn’t that the kind of thing men noticed?
He’d probably be much more likely to have spotted if you’d had a boob job, a voice in my head couldn’t resist pointing out. I scowled, because that wasn’t entirely fair. I’d dated my share of men who would happily conduct an entire conversation with my cleavage, but my instincts told me that the man currently travelling up to my floor to take me out for dinner wasn’t like that.
At least, I assumed taking me for dinner was the plan. Finn had been intentionally vague in the messages we’d exchanged during the day.
Pick you up at 5.30? I know it’s early, but we’ve got a bit of a drive.
Intriguing. Can I ask where we’re going?
No. It’s a surprise.
I could hear the sound of approaching footsteps on the other side of my front door. I did one last quick check in the mirror to make sure the glossy bright red lipstick hadn’t strayed to my teeth. Sunlight from the adjacent window glinted off the glass and caught the silver hoops at my ears. They were the only jewellery I was wearing. Anything else would have detracted from the dress, whose scooped neckline showed off the column of my throat and sat just below my collarbones. In contrast, the back of the dress was a little more risqué, with a deep, plunging V that ended just millimetres above my bra strap.
I grinned at my reflection, acknowledging that I was more excited about the evening ahead than I’d been about anything in a very long time.
It was neither cool nor sophisticated to feel the breath catch in my throat when I opened the front door and saw Finn leaning casually against the frame. In the summer the public areas of my building were frequently as hot as a greenhouse, so he’d slipped off the jacket of his light grey suit and it now hung over his shoulder, swinging from one finger by a loop. He looked like an advert for something very masculine and expensive. My stomach gave a lurch, probably colliding with several other internal organs that I imagined were twisting and turning inside me. Never, ever had I reacted in such a visceral, physical way to a man. It was as if my self-control was already slipping away. There was a very real possibility that whatever he asked me to do, I’d agree to without stopping to think. And that wasn’t like me at all.
With no trace of awkwardness, which probably meant he’d done this many times before, Finn passed me the bunch of flowers he’d been holding in his free hand. They were a riot of reds and golds and didn’t look like the kind you picked up as an afterthought from a petrol station forecourt or at the checkout of a supermarket. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had brought me flowers on a first date, and I dipped my face into the blooms, inhaling their sweet fragrance.
‘They’re gorgeous, Finn. Thank you.’
His smile was devastating and did little to stop my heartbeat from reading like a seismograph during an earthquake.
