The Funny Thing About Love

24. Charlie

24

CHARLIE

OK. This is no big deal. I just have to be casual. Play it cool. It’s just lunch.

Just one intern asking another intern if she wants to get some lunch.

I stand up from my desk and mumble something about nipping out for a sandwich. But I don’t think anyone even notices. All the writers are plugged into their earbuds, frowning at their screens, pounding away at their keyboards.

Before Jed left the building an hour ago, after that emotional rollercoaster of a meeting, he made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t at all keen on any of the sketches the team had proposed. So Nate instructed everyone to bash out as many new ideas as possible for an emergency meeting this afternoon. Since they’re all super-busy, and I’m a not-super-busy intern, I should probably be offering to do a lunch run right now. But that would get in the way of my plan. And at this moment, the plan feels more important.

I head out of the nook towards the IT department, checking my reflection in every mirrored surface en route. I’m going to ask Nell out. Not out out. It’s not a date. I need to make that very clear to her. It’s just a ‘thank-you’ for performing that scooter-based miracle and totally saving my – and everyone else’s – arse.

Because, honestly, if Jed had heard that recording . . . Well, Nate was right: we’d be totally, utterly fucked. And since it was pretty much all my fault in the first place, I would’ve been the totally, utterly fuckedest.

I didn’t even have time to thank her once the meeting was over. Jed had still been within earshot as we all filed out of the writers’ room, and Nell had headed straight back to her desk. So, this, the plan, is my golden opportunity to properly say thank you, while conveniently wrangling some one-on-one time with her and hopefully getting a glimpse of that smile again.

I’m busy rehearsing the exact wording of what I’ll say to her when I suddenly come face to face with her rounding the corner.

‘Oh, sorry!’

‘Oh, Francombe. Hey!’ she says.

I try not to wince too hard at the ‘Francombe’. ‘Hey!’

She nods towards the lifts. ‘I was just heading to lunch.’

‘Oh, right.’ I gulp. ‘I was actually just coming to see you.’

Her hand goes to her chest. ‘See me?’

‘Yeah. I just realised I hadn’t said thank you yet for what you did in that meeting.’

She smiles. That smile. Oh man. ‘No worries,’ she says. ‘I still can’t believe that actually worked.’

‘Honestly, Nell, you were incredible. If Jed had heard what everyone was saying about him . . .’

I shake my head and her grin widens. ‘What did everyone say about him?’

‘Oh, pretty much everything it was possible to say.’ I count them off on my fingers. ‘Astroturf hair, stupid name, bigoted twat . . .’

She laughs. ‘He really did seem like a complete dickhead.’

‘Yeah, and you totally duped him!’ I tell her. ‘You played it so well. The whole thing was my fault anyway – I knocked that stupid scooter over – so I owe you even more than the others do. Seriously, thank you.’

‘That’s OK.’ She pauses for a second, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. ‘I mean . . . I owed you for Zach, anyway.’

This time it’s my grin that widens. ‘Ha! That took way less guts. I was quite pleased with the Phoebe Waller-Bridge dig though.’

‘I did enjoy that,’ she says, and my stomach flips.

‘Have you messaged him back yet?’ I ask.

She nods. ‘Yep. I let him down gently last night.’

‘Poor bloke,’ I sigh. ‘How’s he going to do his Ironman with a broken heart?’

She laughs again and looks down at the carpet. ‘I’m sure he’ll cope . . .’

Ask her. Ask her now.

I take a deep breath. ‘So, listen, I was wondering – just to say thanks for the scooter miracle and all . . . did you fancy getting some lunch? Together?’

‘Oh, erm . . .’ Her cheeks flush and she swallows. But she’s not looking at me. She’s looking . . . behind me?

‘Hello, interns!’

I turn around to see Nate standing there. He claps me on the shoulder in greeting, and then looks at Nell.

‘Nell, I was just coming to grab you, actually,’ he says. ‘I wondered if you had time for a quick chat over lunch?’