Chapter Two #2
‘A salmon sperm face moisturizer!’ I gasp, elated.
Oh my goodness. I literally just read an article on how the DNA from salmon sperm is great for collagen production and now here it is. It has to be Fate, calling my name.
I mean, sure, salmon sperm sounds disgusting.
But if my bottom is sailing south then it’s only a matter of time before my chops follow suit, right?
I pick up a pot. It has the word ‘sperm’ written across it in an alarmingly large font, the ‘e’ replaced by a pencil drawing of a fish.
Underneath, words like elastin, hydration and radiance dance before my eyes and I am quite certain that this product will be the answer to all of my fine line woes.
I take a sip of coffee, turning the pot around to read the impressive stats on the back. The more I read, the more convinced I am that it will be necessary, going forward, to regularly rub fish semen into my face.
I’m making appreciative noises when I get the distinct impression that I’m being watched. With trepidation, I spin on my heels.
Callum Bang is darkening my doorstep. His looming presence causes an immediate adrenaline spike. It feels like my organs are trying to break free from my body, as if my brain is screeching ‘Run!’.
His tall frame takes up all of the space as he stands there, talking into his phone, laconic gaze directed right at me.
‘No problem, happy to help,’ he’s saying. ‘Honestly, it’s on me. I just bought some gaffer tape, extra-thick bin bags and string.’
He says his goodbyes and hangs up.
‘Discussing your villain origin story again?’ I suggest.
Callum slips his phone into his back pocket and regards me with disdain.
‘Very funny, Moss. I spent the weekend helping out on a building project for the charity I volunteer at. That was them, offering to pay for the kit I bought. I said it wasn’t necessary.’
I told you he’s the worst!
Callum appears to be looking around with relish as I narrow my eyes at him.
‘Salmon sperm?’ He quirks an eyebrow.
Oh no.
The colour rises in my cheeks as I shove the box back on the shelf, but in my haste I knock a handful of pots over and they clatter to the floor.
I’m muttering under my breath as we both reach down to pick them up, Callum’s large hands scooping up all but one.
I scrabble for the final box while trying to come up with a snappy retort.
Annoyingly, Callum gets in there first.
‘Hydrating,’ he reads approvingly as he stacks them back in place.
I scowl at him. His piercing green eyes skewer me to the spot.
‘Please, don’t let me interrupt,’ he adds. ‘You looked like you were about to make a purchase.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I huff, frowning at his thoroughly amused look. ‘I was just … researching.’
The arched eyebrow suggests he does not believe me.
As if being caught pondering the benefits of rubbing marine sperm into my face wasn’t enough, I am immediately disarmed by Callum’s appearance.
He looks different. His usual work wardrobe of trousers, T-shirt, and a denim shirt over the top has been replaced with deep blue joggers and a matching crew-neck jumper, a crisp white T-shirt peeping out from around the neckline.
He looks like he’s modelling loungewear for GQ.
‘I like your hat,’ he adds.
This, it seems, tips me over the edge.
‘Oh for God’s sake!’ I huff, clean forgetting my promise to be cool and calm.
‘You know, it’s not very polite to grumble at someone who’s just given you a compliment, Moss.’
‘It wasn’t a compliment, though, was it? You were cueing up another chance to take the piss. So come on, out with it. What’s next? Some joke about me heading off to Panama or something?’
‘It’s got more of a cowboy look to me.’
I nudge the hat further up on my head.
‘How apt,’ I whisper, feeling a lot like we’re in the middle of our own private Western. Me with my fingers twitching, waiting for the saloon door to swing open before I pull the trigger. Or is it the other way round? It’s always hard to tell where Callum’s concerned.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, flicking my hair back over my shoulder and trying to recover myself.
Callum peers down at me, his broad physique taking up most of my view.
‘Haven’t you heard? You get the pleasure of my company for this trip.’
‘Playing fast and loose with the word pleasure there, Callum,’ I retort, folding my arms across my chest.
‘Charming as ever.’
‘I am charming, actually,’ I protest, ignoring the fact that having to point this out kind of negates the argument. ‘Lots of people say so.’
‘Do they now?’ he drawls, lips quirked into a smile.
‘Yes, they do. Lots of people! All my clients. My friends and family. Basically everyone who isn’t you.’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ he says, locking gaze with me for way too long.
To the uninitiated, Callum’s combination of startling green eyes and scholarly glasses is a heart-melter.
He’s one of those rare breeds of ridiculously good-looking people who nobody seems to resent for having won the genetic lottery.
I remain impervious.
‘I had heard that you were coming on the trip, by the way,’ I say.
‘So why did you ask me what I was doing here? Wishful amnesia?’
I roll my eyes. ‘I meant here, in the beauty hall.’
‘Oh.’ Callum looks around us and seems to remember where we’re standing. ‘I love it here, they always have such a good selection of products. I was going to do some shopping of my own when I spotted you.’
Finding that we have a love of duty-free and beauty products in common is unsettling to say the least. Thankfully my good friend caffeine is really helping me to keep things calm and casual.
‘Don’t let me stop you.’ I step back, waving dramatically around the aisles as if he should make the most of them immediately. A tiny tidal wave of coffee splashes out of the takeaway cup and I quickly lick the lid to stop it seeping over the sides.
Callum watches me steadily.
‘Nope.’ He shakes his head.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘You don’t get rid of me that quickly. Kat wants us to become sympatico, remember?’
My lip curls.
‘How could I forget?’
‘Well now, don’t sound too keen, Moss.’
‘Oh come on, it’s not like you’re champing at the bit to spend the next twenty-four hours in transit with me, is it?’
‘I’m sure you’re not all bad.’
‘That’s funny, I was just thinking the opposite about you. Maybe we should just steer clear of each other for a while, hey? We’ve got a whole week of this, after all. Plenty of opportunity to, to …’
‘To?’
‘Collaborate,’ I eventually manage.
‘Ah yes, a week-long work trip full of collaboration. Sounds great.’
‘Doesn’t it?’
‘One problem though,’ he offers.
I can’t narrow my eyes any further because if I did, they would be completely closed. So instead, I ask: ‘Is it you?’
Callum sighs demonstratively.
‘It might be tricky to “steer clear” given that we’re on the same flight. We might even be sitting together.’
That horrifying thought has me pulling out my boarding pass.
‘31A,’ I read out.
‘31C,’ Callum looks at his. ‘Same row, but it looks like someone will be sitting in between us.’
‘Poor soul. Let’s hope they’re more fun than you are.’
‘Please. I’m a lot of fun.’
‘Doubt it.’
Callum shakes his head like he’s disappointed in me.
I mentally slap myself in the face. If I’ve got to endure this for the next week then I’m going to have to up my smart comebacks.
Being so thoroughly discombobulated does not help.
Why does he bring out the worst in me? Just look at him, standing by the moisturizers like a normal human being in his handsome travel outfit.
Nobody knows that under his glossy exterior lies the devil incarnate, like Voldemort in disguise.
He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing and only I can see it.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ he asks, startling me out of my contemplation.
‘Just surprised to see you wearing clothes, I guess.’
‘Did you expect me to come naked, Moss?’ There goes that eyebrow again.
‘I meant normal clothes,’ I bluster. ‘Not work clothes. I’m surprised to see you wearing normal clothes.’
Yes, that’s good, Nina.
Maybe say it one more time for emphasis?
Callum is watching me with a deeply amused look. His eyes track up and down my body which for some reason makes my fingers tingle.
‘We match,’ he says eventually. ‘Except you’re all in black.’
‘That’s right,’ I compose myself. ‘I came dressed for your funeral.’
Ha! That’s much better, I tell myself.
‘Very dark. And on that delightful note, I’ll leave you browsing the sperm moisturizers.’ He gestures to the products.
‘Have a great day now!’ I call after him.
‘No, you have a great day.’ He turns and waves.
Jackass.
This will not do. Surely it won’t be long until Cody arrive and we can’t be bickering when they do, it will look deeply unprofessional and I refuse to let Callum Bang’s snarky comments ruin this gig for me before we’ve even taken off.
We got off on the wrong foot, that’s all.
If I could go back and do it all over again, I’d be waiting for Callum at the airport café, sitting in front of my laptop while oozing professionalism, not perusing unmentionable moisturizers.
Alas, I’ll just have to shake it off and move forward.
I march with purpose over to WHSmith where I stock up on magazines and a book for the journey, before spotting that the gate’s been called. A bolt of nervous energy flows through me. This is it!
Stashing the new purchases into my massive bag, I sling it back over my shoulder and hop on the travelator all the way to the gate.
How much fun are these walking pavements?
! I’m marching along it, past the myriad adverts for watches, when I spot Callum up ahead, not on the travelator.
Can’t say I’m surprised. Why take the fun route when you can be boring, eh Callum?
I glide by him and wave, feeling ridiculously triumphant.
Turns out I am a small child sometimes, and I’m okay with that.
When he sees me he frowns, and the next thing I know, he’s broken out into a run to try and catch up. I face forwards again, picking up into a jog because although I am a grown woman, I will not be beaten in this apparent race with Callum Bang.
The departure gate is up ahead. I will get there first. A brief look back and dear lord, he’s fast!
I suddenly remember that he often uses his lunch break to get out for a run and curse myself.
I can’t compete with an actual runner, can I?
Plus, the rational part of my brain tells me it’s not a good idea to break into a sweat moments before a full twenty-four hours of travel, with no prospect of a shower.
Be sensible, Nina! Conserve energy! This lightweight cotton bra will not support an unexpected cardio session!
And yet here I am, actively racing on the travelator towards the gate.
He’s still on static ground but now he’s ahead of me.
This will not do! Thankfully, Callum’s trajectory is thwarted by a rowdy hen party meandering towards the gate in front of him.
I observe with unbridled glee as he has to slow down to a stop, no space to get past the women dressed in matching T-shirts.
I feel practically giddy as Callum gets embroiled in the sprawling group and I glide past him once again.
The moving walkway up ahead of me is totally clear. I slow down, there’s no need to run now, and as I step off right by the correct gate, I turn to give him my best ‘sorry you lost’ face.
He shakes his head at me before he’s enveloped by the hens. The bride-to-be is running her hands down his torso and he looks slightly terrified. I chuckle to myself as I watch him try to politely extract himself from her clutches and finally join me at the gate.
‘Better luck next time,’ I say.
‘Very childish.’ He shakes his head, dishevelled.
‘Me? You’re the one who started to run.’
‘No, you started it,’ he huffs, rearranging his glasses. ‘That smug little wave?’
‘I was not smug!’ Well, not much. Okay, maybe a bit, but there’s no way I’m admitting that.
We are saved from descending into yet more squabbling by the arrival of Cody, who turn up at the gate in their own chauffeur-driven luggage buggy.
I hastily mop my brow, regretting the mad dash here, while Callum mutters under his breath.
I can’t quite hear what he says but it sounds a lot like the F-word and a very undignified part of me is thrilled that he’s rattled.
‘Clio, Brody,’ he beams, recovering himself just in time to spread his arms wide and welcome our clients. Which, actually, should be my job.
‘Clio, Brody,’ I echo, spreading my own arms wide. I shoot him a look which tells him that this is still my gig, he’s just here for the ride. ‘Amazing to see you both.’
Clio is clapping, delighted. She’s wearing cargo pants, a vest and a loose-fitting shirt over the top, and Brody is in matching cargo pants with a plain tee. They have heavily modelled themselves on the Posh and Becks aesthetic of the early Noughties and their fans lap it up.
‘I can’t believe it’s happening. Wait …’ She pauses, eyeing up Callum and me. ‘Did you two match on purpose? Because ohmygod how cute, you know how much I love to harmonize with this one.’
Clio places a manicured hand on Brody’s chest.
I’m too busy processing the idea that Callum and I could ever be ‘too cute’ to think of an answer.
‘Nina is always texting me with outfit options,’ jokes Callum. ‘She loves it.’
‘Ha ha, yes, I love it,’ I say, my smile hardening when I meet his gaze. ‘Besides, poor Callum does need all the help he can get.’
‘Adorable.’ Clio nods approvingly. ‘I do the same for Brody. I just lay out a fit for you on the bed every morning, don’t I, babe?’
We all turn to Brody.
‘Whatever you want, babe,’ he says placidly. ‘Makes sense to keep your partner happy, right, Cal?’
Callum looks briefly startled before he rearranges his features back to affable.
‘So, are you …’ Clio trails off, looking between the two of us.
The penny drops. Bloody hell, she thinks we’re together because we’re wearing matching clothes.
Imagine! Or rather, don’t.
I scoff so hard I end up having a coughing fit.
‘Ah, no. Just colleagues,’ Callum replies smoothly, giving me a pat on the back.
‘We’re going to have so much fun. I was so pleased when I heard you were coming too, Cal,’ says Clio.
The self-satisfied look he gives me! That alone is enough to stop my coughing fit.
‘Yes,’ I beam, eyes snagging on the world’s most annoying colleague. ‘So much fun!’
Callum smiles right back at me.
‘It’s going to be awesome,’ he says. This is classic Callum. To Cody, he’s a charming addition to the trip. To me, I can see right through that professional veneer. His smile might be wide but his teeth are gritted when he meets my gaze and he’s shooting daggers directly at me.
I begin to plot his demise.