Chapter Fifteen
The interview was set for early evening in one of The Hexagon’s higher-end meeting rooms on the green floor.
Alongside a multitude of ferns, the room contained sofas with canapés laid out on a mid-century table.
The presentation screen had been discreetly stowed away.
Cali had asked to interview Ajax and Esme at home, but they’d demurred: their ‘coupling’ was so recent, Esme said, they were still looking at properties to buy together.
Earlier that afternoon Sasha had told me a large number of pizzas had been delivered to the Resilience Needs office and Ajax’s ultra-healthy workforce had descended upon them like jackals, tearing off slices dripping with cheese as though it was the first food they’d seen in months.
I’d won my bet with Olly, and he’d ordered up the unhealthy food that was his punishment.
‘I heard you bought pizzas for your team,’ I said, as we strode towards the interview room. ‘Didn’t you fancy the choccy muffins?’
‘The pizza place didn’t have any. Also, I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ he said, without looking at me.
He held the door open to the meeting room, where Esme was already sitting in Ajax’s arms, and Cali was unpacking her notebook, recording device and gold-plated pens.
As I passed him, I caught the scent of his expensive aftershave and tensed involuntarily, an instinctive reflex of attraction that I couldn’t quite get on top of.
Olly and I attempted to fade into the background, but I saw Cali’s eyes narrow slightly when she looked in our direction, an indication that she definitely did not want us to interfere in her interview.
With excessive lavishness, Ajax had ordered two bottles of champagne in a silver wine cooler and I saw Esme gulp a huge mouthful from a flute as Cali settled down. I noticed Cali accepted a glass, but didn’t sip it.
‘So,’ Cali said, once her recording equipment was set up, opening her hands in an expansive gesture, ‘guys!’ She gestured to them and the room.
The three of them laughed. I fake-laughed. Olly just watched.
‘How did all of this come about?’ Cali took a sip of champagne. A fake sip, to my eye.
Ajax went misty-eyed. ‘True love, I guess.’
He began a forensic examination of the ways in which he and Esme were compatible. Number one was their intense sexual connection. As he said the word sexual, he brought his hands together, miming a spark exploding.
Olly started coughing and gave Ajax a tone it down look.
Cali turned glittering blue eyes upon us, swivelling in her chair. ‘I can take it from here, my loves. I’m not used to having my interviews managed.’ She glanced back at Ajax and Esme. ‘That’s fine with you, yes?’ Her tone was non-negotiable.
‘Sure.’ Ajax looked relaxed. Esme sucked an olive off a cocktail stick, her smudged, kohl-rimmed eyes wide and innocent. I opened my mouth to protest but thought better of it, at the precise moment Olly’s elbow nudged mine.
‘Have a great time!’ I said, and we glided out of the room as though we were on wheels.
‘Pub?’ Olly said to me as the slow-close door finally shut behind us, but I noticed he couldn’t seem to look at me.
‘Bad idea,’ I said, thinking there was no way I would ever combine his presence with alcohol again.
‘Sure,’ he said flatly. ‘So come upstairs to my so-called office and at least have a coffee.’ His mouth tightened, his tone was imperious. ‘There are other people around, we won’t be alone.’
‘Fine,’ I said, my voice sounding ridiculously cold, my body as stiff as a board.
Olly was as good as his word. His assistant Carl was busy creating a collage of positive slogans on one side of the office floor, and although he was at a distance, his presence defused things.
A small table had been set up with drinks and snacks for the Resilience Needs employees, and I watched as Olly poured me a coffee and – straight-faced – offered me a banana, before waving me towards his desk.
‘Clearly this interview is going to be a car crash, with Ajax and the sex talk, so maybe we can brainstorm a recovery plan,’ I said, sounding falsely perky.
‘I’ve got to recover from seeing it first,’ he said, making Ajax’s ‘spark’ gesture. ‘So maybe tomorrow. Perhaps a night of sleep can cleanse my mind.’ He looked at me. ‘He wasn’t like this before they got together, you know.’
‘Are you blaming Esme for him being cringe?’
‘Not Esme, per se. It’s safe to say the whole situation is making everyone a little crazy.’
‘Agreed.’ I felt a blush rising in my face. An actual, real-life blush, which in my previous life I had been entirely immune to, and yet which now happened regularly, always in Olly’s presence.
‘Lizzy?’
‘Yes?’
‘About what happened between us.’
I glanced up to see that Carl was a safe distance from us. ‘It’s absolutely fine,’ I said sharply.
He swallowed, I saw a muscle in his jaw flex.
‘I just wanted to check everything is okay.’ Our eyes met, and there it was, the thing I hoped had been caused by the whisky: some kind of spark, some kind of connection, which – I was pretty sure – I was imagining into life.
An echo of that heady, crackling way we’d looked at each other just before we’d kissed.
He wasn’t smiling now, but even so he had the kind of dark brown eyes you could look at, and look at, and look at.
He was too handsome for his own good. I dragged my gaze into the middle distance.
‘As I said, everything’s fine,’ I managed. ‘And as we agreed, it’s best if we never speak of it ever again.’ I tried for a smile.
‘Great,’ he said, seeming insultingly relieved. ‘I’ll bury it five fathoms deep.’
‘Me too.’
‘Great.’
‘Great. Also, your team must be thrilled, you allowing them to have pizza.’
‘Oh, that. Yes. Well, a gentleman keeps his word.’
‘Ha!’ I segued into an awkward laugh. ‘Can you imagine how ridiculous it would have been if we actually got together? As well as a nightmare, professionally.’
He folded his arms, looked down. ‘Sure, yeah.’
‘I mean, also, my life is so complicated, you wouldn’t believe it.’
He tilted his head, frowning. ‘You’re not – in a… situationship?’
‘No! God, no!’ I caught the hesitation in his expression. ‘I have a father.’
‘Aye, most people do…’
I held up a finger. ‘And a brother, Alex. Who has severe autism.’ I paused, saw he was listening intently. ‘He has other health complications, too. But he’s doing well at the moment. My mum died thirteen years ago.’
His expression softened. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay. But what I’m trying to say is, I have to look after them both – not physically, but you know, as the responsible adult.’
‘I think I understand,’ he said softly. But of course, he didn’t. He had no idea.
I looked down at my hands. Somehow this felt real, too real. Talking to my polite, guarded colleague about Dad.
‘You’ve finished your coffee,’ he said, noticing my discomfort. ‘Let me get you another one.’
I was grateful to him for giving me a moment of space. As he walked away, Olly’s phone lit up on the table, white letters on a black background.
ISOBEL (TINDER)
I released a lungful of breath. Another babe for the babe magnet. How did he have the energy to be on Tinder?
He returned to the desk and put a coffee down in front of me, along with a protein bar. ‘Dinner,’ he said. ‘Don’t say I never get you anything.’
‘Thanks.’ I straightened my shoulders, smiled, and nodded towards the vibrating phone. ‘Someone wants you,’ I said, trying to insert some arch cheeriness into my tone and (yay me!) succeeding.
His eyes flicked to the screen. ‘Right,’ he said.
ISOBEL (TINDER) rang off, then immediately rang again, the phone purring on the pale wood of the desk. Olly stayed on his feet.
‘She’s a persistent lady,’ I said, taking a sip of my drink. ‘Mmm, great coffee, thanks, mate.’ Okay, so the ‘mate’ sounded super awkward, but it did the job of persuading him our conversation was over; I saw all softness fade from his face and he snatched the phone up.
‘Excuse me.’ Turning away, he said ‘hello’, and walked towards the stairway.
I watched him walk away, noting his super-confident glide, the fist bump he gave Carl as he passed him.
And he claimed he was a geek who previously had no appeal to women?
Come on, the man was born a gym bro, surely.
So I’d been sensible to shut down our connection.
Really sensible. Almost painfully so. There wasn’t actually a non-fraternisation clause in my contract (I definitely hadn’t checked this the night before) but all in all, us being together would be a really bad idea.
The kind of thing that could explode and leave shrapnel embedded in my career for years to come.
I opened the protein bar, which looked reassuringly like chocolate. The first mouthful was fine, the second not so good, the third like a mouthful of soil. I closed the packet and unobtrusively posted it into the bin.
‘Hi.’ Blank-faced, Olly had returned, and sat down.
‘Hi!’ I was trying too hard to be relaxed.
‘You’ve got a bit of…’ He gestured to my face.
‘What?’ I put my hands to my face.
He leaned forward and brushed his thumb against the corner of my mouth. It was an innocuous enough gesture, but the brush sparked a shiver which moved through me and seemingly into him; for a moment we stared at each other, still, breathless.
He pushed his chair back, hard. ‘Look, it’s been a long day for both of us. Let’s go.’
‘Sure.’ I stood up, brushed myself down. Was he going to meet a date now? I wanted to ask him so much. Of course he was… I needed to seal this thing off. I held out a hand in a weirdly formal way. ‘Shall we start again? Friends? As in, work friends. Not proper friends.’
He half-smiled, half-frowned. ‘Sure,’ he said, and shook my hand. ‘Let’s start again. Hi, I’m Olly, I’m thirty-four and I’m from Edinburgh, now Finchley. I live alone, I work too hard, and I like good whisky.’
‘Cheeky.’ I rolled my eyes at the twinkle in his, but couldn’t help smiling. ‘Hi, I’m Lizzy. I live in Oval, with a psychopathic cat called Pebble, who I inherited from a neighbour. You could say my life is work-centric. Pleased to meet you.’
He still had hold of my hand.
‘Agree to reset?’ I said, while my brain screamed his eyes are so amazing.
He hesitated, gave a little sigh. ‘Agree to reset.’
We shook briskly, then let go.