Chapter Six
‘I can’t believe you changed your mind.’ Erik smiled at her across the restaurant table, looking better than he knew in the candlelight. ‘I’d almost given up hope.’
‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t giving you the run-around. It’s just been a trying day,’ she replied, trying to muster some social energy. ‘I wasn’t sure I’d be good company.’
‘How could you not be? You’d be good company on a silent monastic retreat.’
She smiled. ‘Well that’s a very kind thing to say.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m just happy to hear that was the reason for your hesitation and not something I did or said last night to put you off.’
‘No,’ she said, trying to look puzzled by the mere suggestion. ‘Of course not.’
‘Good, because I enjoyed last night; I really wanted to see you again.’
‘Yeah. It was fun. I’d not been to Br?nnum before.’
‘You liked it there? Well then when I get back, I’ll take you to Bazaar. That’s even better.’
‘Really?’ She swallowed, already bored. The conversation felt hollow and fatuous compared to the few words she’d exchanged with Max, in which everything had felt charged and loaded.
‘They’ve got a ten-month waiting list for a reservation – they turned away Brooklyn Beckham and his wife not long ago.’
‘Oh.’ She ran her hands through her hair, but no amount of root lift could override a day without sunlight and she hoped she didn’t look as jaded as she felt. She had pulled a ten-hour shift in the archives only to make her way through a grand total of...three boxes. ‘So then, how would we get in?’
‘My father’s friends with the owner, so I can always get us a good table.’
‘Is he in the hospitality business then, your father?’
‘...No.’ He laughed, bemused. ‘You know, your Danish may be excellent but I can tell you’re not from here if you don’t know who my father is.’
‘Should I?’
‘He’s a pretty big name in the city. He set up his commercial property development business twenty-five years ago and it turned over 125 million krone last year; he started with nothing and now he’s a donor to the Venstre party, knows everyone, is respected by everyone. And now he’s grooming me to take the helm of the company when he retires in a few years.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Darcy swallowed, feeling a budding resentment in the pit of her stomach at the casual nepotism he clearly expected her to admire. Her own father was a geography teacher at the local sixth form college back home in Berkshire and her mother a GP receptionist; she felt every bit as proud of them as he was, only she suspected he would see nothing to admire. Money and status were important to him, and his choice in women was no doubt intended as a reflection of his high self-worth. She supposed there was a compliment in there somewhere. ‘Well, that sounds like an amazing opportunity for you.’
Erik shrugged. ‘My father’s an incredible man.’
She took another sip of her wine, trying not to think about whether her own father would be disappointed to see her having dinner with such a spoilt man-child.
‘Yeah. This deal we’re putting together in Dubai is actually my first solo.’ Erik sat back in the club chair, pressing his fingers together. ‘I made the pitch, won it, and now I’m going out there to drill into the detail with the client. The budget is AED 90 million.’
‘Gosh.’ She wasn’t quite sure how to respond to the boast. ‘...That is a lot of dirham.’
He looked surprised that she knew of their currency. ‘Have you been?’
‘To Dubai? No.’ She shook her head. ‘But I stopped off at Doha once, en route to Bali.’
‘It’s incredible there too. Even just the airport is a spectacle.’ He pinned her with an intense look. ‘You never know, if things continue to go well between us, you could come out with me on the next trip. I could show you the sights,’ he winked.
‘Oh, no...I don’t think that would be necessary.’
His self-assured look slipped and she wondered if she’d been too blunt.
‘I mean, if it’s a work trip, you need to concentrate,’ she explained quickly.
‘Don’t you worry about that; there’s plenty of time on these things for work and play. I think we’d have a lot of fun together.’
He held her gaze at the not-so-subtle intimation and she forced herself to smile back. It was why they were both here, after all: two single, consenting adults looking for something light and casual. She definitely didn’t want another relationship so soon, and there was no doubt he was an attractive man; she had caught plenty of women checking him out as they passed by the table. Clearly, they were incompatible on a personal level – but how personal did things really need to be? She was here to have fun , as per Freja’s instructions.
And yet...
‘Well, it’s not really my scene anyway.’ She heard the rejection in her own voice.
There was a missed beat. ‘No? Why not?’
‘Well, look at who goes there – it’s full of oil barons, property developers, TikTokers, social media influencers and Love Island people. Everything there’s so shiny and my life is more...dusty.’
‘Dusty?’
‘Yes. Let’s be honest, it’s not exactly the natural habitat for a history of art academic. I deal with the dead, I guess. Dead artists. Centuries-old paintings. It’s about as different as you can get.’ Every word was a rebuff. She could hear it and yet she couldn’t stop. Something in him made her turn away. ‘...Unless the beautiful people living in your glossy high-rises will want some old masters to hang on their walls? Then I could be their art advisor, I guess.’
It was only a throwaway comment, but Erik’s expression went from wary to intensely focused. ‘There’s probably good money in that. I know a lot of rich people who are just looking for ways to spend their money. Someone like you could make a killing.’
‘Someone like me?’
‘Yeah – I imagine academia really doesn’t pay so well?’
She swallowed. ‘I guess compared to building hotels, no.’
Just then the waiter came over, and she looked away with relief. A slight edge had crept into the conversation and it was her fault, she knew. He was trying to flirt and she was blocking him at every turn. ‘Mr Rasmussen, are you ready for me to take your orders?’
‘Thank you, Oscar. We’ll have the chateaubriand and a bottle of the Puligny Montrachet.’
‘Very good, sir,’ the waiter said, snapping the menus shut and slipping away again.
‘Oh, but—’ Darcy had wanted to order the truffle pasta. She watched in disbelief as the waiter retreated without even glancing over at her.
‘You’re going to love the filet,’ Erik said with certainty as he sat back in his chair. ‘I’ve never once come here and been unhappy with the choice.’ She looked at him, seeing how pleased he was with himself at this show of power. How did he know she even liked chateaubriand, or that she wasn’t a vegetarian? He had never asked.
She swallowed back her irritation. ‘Is that so? You must come here a lot, then.’
‘It’s one of my favourites, actually. There’s always a good atmosphere and I live just around the corner, so...’
He shot her a loaded look again. If he had all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, she also knew this was their second date – drinks last night; dinner tonight – and that expectations were rising...She knew when the meal came out, his knee would begin to brush against hers under the table and he would start to lean in on his elbows while they talked, touching her hand with increasing regularity. She was going to have to have made a choice by the time pudding came out.
She watched him as he talked, trying to talk herself into it. He used his hands a lot, made plenty of eye contact and had stories for any turn of conversation. He was not quite as funny as he thought he was, nor as clever, but he was engaging.
Engaging enough for one night.
She could do this, couldn’t she?
‘So, tell me about the rogue who broke your heart,’ he said, coming in again with an intense look. She sensed it was part of the seduction.
‘Excuse me?’
‘You mentioned him in passing last night when I asked about your last relationship. You said he cheated on you?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘He did not break my heart.’
‘Really? But you said it was your first date in weeks, since the breakup.’
‘Not because I was heartbroken, though. I was just done with being lied to again. I haven’t got the time, nor the energy for those games. It’s so...tedious.’
‘So it’s happened before?’
‘I date men. Of course it’s happened before.’
‘Ouch.’ He winced at the sarcasm, but she saw a look of satisfaction in his eyes. ‘Well, then I apologize on behalf of my brethren – but I hope you know we’re not all like that.’
‘It honestly doesn’t matter either way,’ she shrugged. ‘Whoever I date can see whoever else they want. I’m not looking for a relationship right now.’
His eyebrows raised. ‘You’re not looking to fall in love?’
‘I don’t have time.’
‘Oh, come. Everyone has time for love,’ he argued. ‘It’s what makes life worth living.’
‘Not me. I’m twenty-six years old, I’ve never been in love – and I’m fine with that.’
‘You’re not looking for marriage, kids?’ He looked openly incredulous.
‘Not yet. I’ve got my friends and family; my career comes before any man right now,’ she shrugged.
‘Huh.’ He didn’t reply, and she watched as he reached for his drink with an enigmatic smile.
‘What?’ she asked. ‘Why are you smiling like that?’
She watched as he took a slow sip, in no rush to answer. He set the glass back down again before looking back at her.
‘I guess because I don’t believe you. Women always say they aren’t looking for anything serious, but they invariably are. Why else would they be on a dating app?’
‘To have some fun,’ she bristled. ‘Like you.’
‘Oh! So that’s why you’re here is it? To use me – as a plaything?’ His knee brushed hers under the table.
‘I wouldn’t have put it like that.’ She swallowed, hating the innuendo he’d put into the word, this clumsy, forced charade they were playing. ‘I’m here for the entire experience: the conversation, the meal; to be out and about in this amazing city I get to live in for the next year. To meet new people.’ She stared back at him. This conversation hardly justified whatever the subscription was. ‘And for the record, I didn’t sign myself up to the app. My flatmate did. She wanted me to get back out there because she could see I had so little interest.’
‘Ah. The plot thickens! So, did she choose to swipe right on me? Or was it you?’
Darcy blinked. ‘It was mutual. We were together when I was looking and we both thought you looked nice.’
He threw his head back and laughed. ‘Oh, I’ve been called many things before, but never nice. I’m so offended!’
‘It wasn’t intended as an insult.’
‘I’m joking! I’m just teasing,’ he said, leaning in and touching her hand. Were they talking at cross purposes? ‘I’m very pleased you swiped right – whoever did it, for whatever the reason. And if you want the truth, I think it’s kind of cute that you’re so modest about it all.’
‘Modest?’ She was confused. It didn’t seem like the correct word. In what way was she modest?
‘Yes, coming in softly and pretending you don’t want love; not putting any pressure on things.’
She blinked, looking back at him. Was he being deliberately obtuse? ‘But it’s true. I don’t. I meant it when I said my career comes first.’
He laughed again. So patronizing.
‘ Why is that so funny?’
‘Because I hardly think you can call being a...perpetual student a career.’
She stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. She pulled her hand away abruptly. ‘I’m a PhD student on track to be a professor. How does being a world-class expert in your field not count as a career? Oh! I guess you wouldn’t know, seeing as your own career is just another thing Daddy handed over, along with the keys to some flashy flat and a twatty sports car!’
She stopped, realizing people at the neighbouring tables were staring. Her voice had raised in her indignation and she had caused a scene; the mask had been ripped off and she couldn’t pretend to go along with this any longer.
She stared back at him, seeing the anger simmering in his eyes too now. She had humiliated him in front of these strangers – but she didn’t care. Her decision had been made before the first course had even come out.
A heavy silence beat between them.
‘I think it’s best if we just call it a day now,’ she muttered, pushing her chair back. She saw panic cross his face at the prospect of her publicly walking out on him, on top of everything else.
‘Clara, wait—’ he blurted, his hands already reaching for her, but the words died on his lips as he realized his error.
She gave a small snort of disdain that he couldn’t even get her name right. ‘Wrong girl, I’m afraid. Please don’t contact me again, Erik ,’ she said pointedly, feeling heads turn, eyes burning into her back as she left.
Shrugging on her coat, she stepped outside into the damp night and took a steadying breath as she leaned against the wall. Strike two. The second dumping in a single day. Disaster snatched from the jaws of defeat. She ran her hands over her face. Why hadn’t she trusted her instincts about him and just gone home instead?
But she knew perfectly well why. She just hadn’t wanted to face it.
Max’s rejection in the archives had stung and she had needed some validation. She had wanted to feel sexy, desirable, worthy of the chase, but she had felt none of those things sitting in there tonight. Worse than that, she was now left facing the even more uncomfortable truth that it was Max’s actions that had led to this reaction. Indifference should have been her response, not distraction – but all she had proved, whether she liked it or not, was that Max Lorensen was already well and truly under her skin.