Ask me? Ask me what? This had better not be about another date, because it’s not happening, no way, whatever Sadie wants-
“Lara.” Ed focuses on me with what looks like some difficulty, his forehead furrowed more deeply than ever. “Would you like to be my guest at the Business People dinner?”
I do not believe it.
In shock, I swivel my eyes up to Sadie’s-and she’s looking at me with an expression of triumph, her arms folded across her chest.
“Don’t say yes on my account,” she says carelessly. “It’s up to you. Entirely.”
Ooh. She’s good . She’s a lot smarter than I thought. I didn’t even realize she was paying attention to the conversation.
This is impossible. There’s no way I can turn down an invitation to the Business People dinner. It’s such a huge event. It’ll be stuffed full of important business types… I’ll be able to network… make contacts… It’s a massive opportunity. I can’t say no. I just can’t.
Damn her.
“Yes,” I say at last, stiffly. “Thank you, Ed, that’s very kind of you. I’d love to come.”
“Good. That’s great. I’ll send you the details.”
We both sound as though we’re reading lines from cards. Genevieve is looking back and forth between our faces, bewildered.
“So… you are a couple,” she says.
“No!” we reply in unison.
“No way,” I add for emphasis. “Not at all. I mean… never. Not in a million years.” I take a sip and glance over at Ed. Is it my imagination, or does he look just the tiniest bit offended?
I last about another twenty minutes, listening to Genevieve show off about every single holiday she’s ever been on, practically. Then Ed glances at me, and my empty glass, and says, “Don’t let me keep you.”
Don’t let me keep you . It’s a good thing I’m not into this guy. If that isn’t code for I can’t stand a moment more in your company , I don’t know what is.
“I’m sure you have dinner plans,” he adds politely.
“Yes!” I say brightly. “I do, as it happens. Absolutely. Dinner plans.” I do a pantomime sweep of my watch in front of my eyes. “Goodness, is that the time? I must run. My dinner companions will be waiting.” I resist the temptation to add, “At Lyle Place, with champagne.”
“Well, I have plans too.” He nods. “So maybe we should…”
He made dinner plans. Of course he did. He probably has a whole other, superior date lined up.
“Yes, let’s. It’s been… fun.”
We both stand up, make general parting gestures at the businesspeople, and head out of the bar onto the pavement.
“So.” Ed hesitates. “Thanks for…” He makes as though to lean in for a peck on the cheek, then clearly decides against it and holds out his hand instead. “That was great. I’ll let you know about the Business People dinner.”
His face is so easy to read it’s almost pitiful. He’s already wondering how the hell he got himself into this one-but, having invited me in front of a crowd, he can hardly back out now.
“So… I’m going this way…” he adds.
“I’m going the other way,” I respond at once. “Thanks again. Bye!” I quickly turn on my heel and start striding down the street. What a fiasco.
“Why are you going home so early?” says Sadie crossly in my ear. “You should have suggested going to a nightclub!”
“I have dinner plans, remember?” I say pointedly. “And so does he.” I stop dead on the pavement. I was in so much of a hurry to be off, I’m heading in totally the wrong direction. I turn around and look up the road, but there’s no sign of Ed. He must have legged it as quickly as I did.
I’m feeling pretty starving, and a bit sorry for myself. I should have made real dinner plans, I think as I head back up the road. I go into a Pret A Manger and start perusing the sandwich bar. I’ll get myself a wrap and a carton of soup, and a chocolate brownie, I decide. Go all out.
I’m just reaching for a smoothie when a familiar voice comes across the gentle buzz of customers.
“Pete. Hey, buddy. How’s it going?”
Sadie and I lock eyes in startled recognition.
Ed?
Instinctively I shrink back, trying to hide behind a rack of healthy crisps. My eyes scan the queues of people and land on an expensive overcoat. There he is. Buying a sandwich and talking on the phone. These are his so-called dinner plans?
“He didn’t have plans at all!” I mutter. “He lied!”
