Chapter 21 Life is good #3
She nods, not opening her eyes. “Turns out I’m not as good in meetings as I thought I was.” Her eyes slowly open. “I think I blew a partner deal. Lost us a lot of money.” She tuts. “So sorry.”
“Why are you saying sorry to me?”
Her head rolls my way, still resting on the seat. “We could have got a pay rise. Can’t see that happening now.”
I wait for her to realise I’m not mad. “Sarah,” I have to then say when she stares dead ahead, presumably replaying her meeting over. “I don’t give two hoots about whether you land a deal with a new partner or not.”
She laughs then, shoulders relaxing.
“Just don’t tell your dad, though. As far as he’s concerned, I strive to excel the company and… crap, I forget what else we’re supposed to say.”
Another burst of laughter escapes her.
“What?” I ask.
“Two hoots. You don’t get many of those anymore.”
“You do now.” We both laugh at my stupid phrase.
“Thank you.”
I look at her. “For what?” I ask quite genuinely.
“For not putting any pressure on me. Everyone seems like they’ve only asked how things are going because they want the big pay rise. But not you.”
I lift my shoulders to my ears. “I don’t care about any of that.”
Her brows pinch with confusion. “Why not?”
“I don’t know,” I answer with a slight shake of my head.
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with that man who keeps showing up after work, would it?”
My eyes pop from my head. “No,” I say, sounding offended, but I haven’t fooled her.
“You liar.” She beams. “Come on, tell me all about him.”
“There isn’t anything to tell.” Seriously.
“Bullshit. I know you’re a private girl. But I’ve seen him. I know he’s hotter than any man I’ve seen knocking around here.”
“It isn’t like that,” I mutter, feeling my temperature rise.
“Well, give me his number then. If you’re not going to jump on him, I will.”
My lips part. “Sarah,” I whisper shout. “Behave, will you?”
She grins. “Ahh, you’re blushing. So you do like him. I knew I was right.”
“Will you keep your voice down?”
“Why? No one on here knows who we are.”
“Still. It’s embarrassing.”
Giggling, she suddenly looks thoroughly pleased with herself. “I think we should have that wine night and you can tell me all about him.”
“There really isn’t anything to tell. Anyway,” I say with my eyebrows arching high, “where are you off to this time of the day?”
She shoots me a glance. “Nowhere.”
“Mm-hmm.” I push the inside of my mouth with my tongue. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with the guy you’ve been seeing, would it?” I use her words against her.
“Harry?” she says, feigning disinterest. “No, girl. I had a hair appointment, that’s all. The lady could only squeeze me in during my lunch.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling a little stupid.
“But if Harry wanted to squeeze me in during my lunch, I wouldn’t say no, either.” She nudges me.
“You’re terrible.”
The more we get to know one another, the more I enjoy being around Sarah. And, I might be wrong, but I think she’s enjoyed having me around too. I’m “low-key”, she tells me, which apparently isn’t a bad thing.
“So, that wine night. Shall we make it tonight?”
The bus slows as we approach the main high street.
“Oh, I can’t tonight.”
Sarah’s eyes widen. “No?”
“If you must know, I’m going to watch a football match.”
“Anyone worth watching?”
I laugh under my breath. She has no idea. “Only the Stoney Grange Gladiators.”
She looks at me deadpan. “I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just say that.”
I snort when I’m unable to stop myself from laughing. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”
“It’s quite possibly the worst thing I’ve ever heard, yes,” she agrees before adding, “but I can only assume a certain someone is playing and invited you?”
I nod subtly, before turning my gaze to out the window.
“Then it sounds like it could be fun. Fancy some company on the baseline?”
“I think it’s a sideline. And, really?” I ask, looking at her amused. “I mean, I don’t know how much fun it’s going to be.”
“Yeah,” Sarah chuckles. “He might have hot friends.” Then she shrugs nonchalantly, making me laugh.
I wouldn’t consider Danny as hot, but he’s the only other single man I know who plays on the team. “Okay, why not,” I tell her, going back to looking out of the window.
When the bus pulls into a layby and the doors open, my attention flits to the café with seating out front. I know the man sitting outside without needing to see his face.
Paddy.
Knowing he’s waiting for Tom, I keep my eyes trained on him, hoping he’ll turn so I can steal a few seconds to admire the man who, with every passing day, I’m more hopelessly drawn to.
He’s everything a girl could ever want.
And my stomach drops when a tall brunette, clearly older than me, woman arrives at his table.
What?
Paddy looks up from his phone, and it’s as though someone’s striking a blade straight through my middle. He stands and reaches out to place his hand on her hip, kissing her cheek before pulling out a chair and gesturing for her to sit down.
He knows her.
When the beautiful woman takes a seat, Paddy takes the one next to her. The flurry of warmth and scattering of hope that one day this man might be mine vanishes like a flash of lightning, shattering like a broken mirror.
Tiny shards of glass nick and jab at me, making my deepest fear come to fruition.
I will never be Paddy’s girlfriend because I will always just be the girl he knew growing up.
Regardless of everything we know about each other, regardless of how much time we’ve spent together, seeing him with another woman makes me feel like he will never be mine.
I need to stop. I’m being ridiculous.
Striking another blow, Paddy places a hand on top of hers, which is resting on the table.
Oh no.
The woman smiles appreciatively, looking at him with relaxed, comfortable eyes.
Yeah, they’re close.
Letting my body sag back into the cushion of my seat, my smile fades, downcast and staring right back at me in the reflection of the window, mocking me. I swallow hard looking past it, feeling a tightness in my chest and a knot in my stomach.
Slipping my hands into my pockets, I close my eyes, unable to look at the happy scene a second longer.
Perhaps it’s time to start putting myself first? If I’ve learned anything in my time with Paddy, it’s that my feelings count. What I want counts.
Now that I think of it, it doesn’t matter if that wishing well was broken when I was a kid and made my wish. I know what I really want. Even if I can’t have every piece of the dream, there’s a slice of it that I can take for myself.