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‘I’m fine. Sorry, I think I must have butt-called you by mistake. I’m really sorry.’
‘That’s okay. You can call me any time. Butt involved or not.’
‘Even at four in the morning?’
‘Even at four in the morning. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get some sleep. I’ve got an early meeting in the morning.’
‘Yes. Sorry. Of course.’
‘Night-night, Rori. Sleep tight.’
‘You, too. Sorry again.’
‘Stop apologising.’
‘Okay. Goodnight, then.’
‘Goodnight.’
Call ended, I snuggled down under my duvet and instantly fell into a dreamless sleep.
*****
When I woke next morning, after my disturbed night, my hand was still curled around my phone, and my mind went straight to King Kong and the butt-dial drama. Groaning with embarrassment, I was almost tempted to pull the covers over my head and try to pretend it had never happened.
But thinking about it a little more, Kurt hadn’t seemedthatannoyed about having some weird woman calling him in the dead of night. He had a sense of humour. Maybe he’d even found it quite funny?
Clinging to that thought, I decided I really ought to call him and apologise. Then I remembered he said he had a meeting this morning. Even better! I’d just have to leave a message in that case.
My heart beating a frantic rhythm, I found King Kong in my contacts.
He answered a second later. ‘Hello. Rori? How are you this morning?’
‘Oh. Hi! I’m fine, thanks. I thought you’d be in a meeting.’
He chuckled. ‘That’s nice. So you thought you’d phone and not have to speak to me?’
Dismayed, I squeezed my eyes tight shut. This man was too quick by half!
‘No, no. Well, yes. I was just going to leave a message apologising for last night. I... um... hope you’ve forgiven me for disturbing your beauty sleep last night?’
‘Absolutely. And by the way, it’s ten-thirty and the meeting’s over.’
‘Ten-thirty?’ I sat up in alarm. I’d thought it might be a little later than my usual wake-up time – but not that much!
‘Ten-thirty,’ he repeated. ‘Why do they call it “beauty sleep” anyway? When in reality, you wake up looking as if you’ve gone ten rounds with a psycho hairdresser.’
‘Speak for yourself.’
‘I am. Of course. He said chivalrously and not at all hoping for an invitation to drink coffee.’
Chuckling, I gave in and asked him if he was free later.
‘It just so happens I’ve got a meeting in Sunnybrook this afternoon, which should finish around four/four-thirty? Any good?’
‘Perfect.’That gives me roughly six hours to have yet another shower, wash the memory of manky lettuce from my hair and make myself presentable.‘Shall I meet you at the Little Duck Pond Café at four-thirty, then?’
‘Yes. See you later.’
