Chapter 6 #3
This cheeky bastard had my heart doing somersaults. I scoffed loudly at the message, causing Kofi – who had his headset on – to briefly turn around to see if I was OK.
‘Sorry, allergies,’ I lied as I went back to my phone. I typed back:
Ha! You’d be surprised what I can ‘scrape up’ when the mood takes me. I must say you did leave quite an impression, so I thought an IRL meetup would be able to satiate my curiosity. Anyway, where are you taking me? Here’s hoping our date will be more impressive than your weak chat-up lines. :)
I enjoyed the mildly flirty-yet-humorous tête-à-tête we’d gotten ourselves into, and was very much looking forward to our upcoming date.
I wondered what he smelled like? Would he put effort into his outfit?
How many dates like this had he gone on before?
Would he end up regurgitating lines? More importantly, was there a specific way I needed to act?
Rules I needed to follow? I’d been focusing so much on him that I’d completely forgotten to think about whether there was some kind of ‘escort code’ I needed to adhere to.
Note to self; get on some escort research once I get home.
I put my phone in my drawer and went back to work, answering emails from GPs, collating various patient surgical notes for the consultants and booking pre-operative appointments. I willed the time to go quickly as I anticipated what Jericho’s response to my message would be.
There was an hour left until the end of the day and I had just reached the office after spending the last hour in a consultant monthly meeting taking minutes.
I opened the door to find Mr Paulson in conversation with Kofi at his desk.
I waved awkwardly at them both and went to my desk, praying for the last hour to melt away, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I turned around to see Mr Paulson smiling down at me, his horn-rimmed glasses sliding ever so slowly down his nose.
I guess you could call him ‘attractive’ – in a nerdy maths teacher ‘Taika Waititi’ kind of way.
‘I’ve nearly finished moving in!’ Jeff exclaimed proudly, pushing his glasses up to meet his nose.
‘Cheers for also speaking to HR about my email, I’ll likely be getting that tomorrow.
I also wanted to ask—’ he turned around and tapped Kofi on the shoulder ‘—if you guys perhaps wanted to do after-work drinks tomorrow with the rest of the team? It’ll be great to get down to a local pub and get to know you all! ’
In all the years I’d worked here, myself and Kofi had successfully been able to evade every single post-works-drinks night with the rest of the Trauma and Orthopaedic department. It wasn’t that we purposefully wanted to be antisocial per se, but:
I just never understood the fascination with the British and after-work drinking. Was it possible to ever relax around colleagues in a social environment where alcohol was being consumed?
I never understood the fascination with pub culture in general. It always seemed rather exclusionary for some reason. On a … cultural level.
Personally, after seven and a half hours of nonstop human interaction, the only company I wanted to keep was my own – preferably in silence, with snacks that didn’t come in a communal bowl.
Me and Kofi briefly gave each other ‘The Look’; the universally acknowledged unspoken gesture between Black people that signified confusion and increments of ‘are you hearing what I’m hearing?’
Going for work drinks during the week sounded like a bad idea, but I would rather have gotten it over and done with now instead of it being on Friday night. I wanted to use Friday to mentally prepare for my date with Jericho … and spending time with the family, of course.
‘Um, yeah sure! That would be nice – a lovely way to welcome you to the team.’ I smiled, briefly looking over at Kofi who had an incredulous look on his face. ‘I’ll send an email round to the department now. There’s a pub at the end of the road we can go to.’
‘Brilliant! Love that idea, Cassandra, thanks!’ Jeff exclaimed, clapping his hands together. As he left the room, Kofi turned again to look at me, his eyebrow cocked.
‘Cass …’ he started, before I cut him off.
‘Oh … you’re coming too. Don’t try it! Strength in numbers and all that.’
At that, he grinned and turned back to his desk. Before getting back to work I decided to send a quick text to Sade to alert her to my matchmaking finesse with her and Kofi. So far I’d:
Offloaded Kofi onto my best friend
Secured a date with Jericho for this Saturday
Had somewhat of a heart-to-heart with my dad
Received a free ride to work
Small victories, but victories nonetheless. I smiled to myself as I completed the rest of my tasks for the day, as I looked forward to getting home, cuddling with Toby and picking up where I left off with Jericho in our messages. A buzz from my drawer alerted me to a text reply from Sade:
Clearly I need to take you on as my pimp or something because the speed with which you were able to supply cock on demand is truly a talent! Is he fine at least? I’ll call you after work! #CockOnDemand
My best friend was ridiculous.