Chapter 58
I’ve been at the Flirt First launch night for forty-five minutes before Eddie Bailey swans in.
Idiot thinks he’s the celebrity guest of honour rather than the founder of this godforsaken app.
If this were my business, I would have been here early, hands on, making sure everything was perfect before the door even opened.
The warehouse looks just as Eesha intended and better than I’d imagined. In just three days, everything is installed, decorated, hooked up and ready to go. Staff showed up on time, merch and catering are on point and the bouncers have been told to strictly adhere to the guest list.
‘Looks like you have everything under control, babe,’ he says, surveying the room. ‘Really impressed you got Calvin Harris to DJ.’
‘No . . . that’s Calvin Sizemore. From Ex on the Beach,’ I inform him, wondering why he ever thought global superstar Calvin Harris would have nothing better to do. ‘He’s standing with Anwar Khan . . . won Britain’s Got Talent . . . He’s doing the PA later.’
He looks at me like I’ve just spoken Swahili. He has no idea who any of these people are. Luckily for him, I do. I’m a reality TV aficionado.
As per Eddie’s request, the guest list is mainly people under thirty-five.
Not only do they make up the largest share of the online dating audience but they’re also more active on social media.
However, after our little speed dating encounter, he’s also aware that those with a little more mileage need love too, as well as those who want a partner with a tad more life experience.
I spot Eesha pointing out the app’s QR code to a captivated group of men in their twenties, who without doubt understand the mechanisms of a QR code.
She’s absolutely killing it. While Junior Events Coordinator (and part-time receptionist) was the only promotion Rupert would agree to, a few more events and she’ll be in a better position to negotiate a more substantial role.
I squeeze past the crowd, doing my best to avoid walking directly in front of those who are live streaming, or taking photos.
It’s hectic. We’re only one hour into the launch and I’m already considering breaking my ‘no more than one glass of wine at a work event’ rule.
Unsurprisingly Shelley and Rupert have also rocked up, dressed to the nines and not a genuine smile between them.
I wave over at Eva Anderson, last-minute helper and Kieran’s nineteen-year-old sister. She’s been hired to schmooze and booze. Pass out T-shirts and hats. Get people talking, signing up and blasting it all over social media #flirtfirst. She waves back and bounds over.
‘Is Kieran not here?’ I ask, spotting some wall art that’s two seconds away from dropping off. ‘I haven’t seen him yet.’
‘He’s here,’ she replies. ‘He went to meet Charlotte off the tube.’
Her eyes and nose look exactly like Kieran’s. If I glued a beard onto her, they’d look like twins.
‘Great,’ I say. ‘If you see him first, let him know I’m looking for him.’
‘Will do.’
‘Oh, and can you also get someone to reattach that poster? It’s about to land on that guy’s head.’
Twenty minutes later, Anwar Khan performs three songs.
His audition piece, ‘Crazy’ by Gnarls Barkley (‘Anwar, you made that song your own’ – Simon Cowell, 2022), his upcoming single, ‘Feel’, and finally crowd-pleaser ‘Body’ by Loud Luxury.
Afterwards, people remain on the dance floor.
Always a good sign that your party doesn’t suck.
As I start to automatically bop along, I feel a hand on my shoulder. It’s a flush-faced Kieran. Outside of work, he rarely looks any different than he does inside. Tonight, however, he’s wearing a shirt that has actually been ironed.
‘How many pints have you had?’ I ask him. ‘You’ve got quite the glow on you.’
‘Two actually, but I ran back from the tube. It’s freezing outside. It’s called blood flow.’
‘Is Charlotte defrosting somewhere?’ I ask, looking around for her. She’s only five foot one, I may have to climb on a chair.
‘Nah,’ he replies, ‘she’s at a hen weekend in Barcelona.’
‘But Eva said you were just meeting her at the tube.’
Kieran clears his throat. ‘So . . . I should probably let you know something,’ he begins. ‘And don’t get mad.’
‘Why would I get mad?’
‘Because I might have overstepped the mark, but just know it came from a place of love.’
My eyes narrow. A place of love? ‘Kieran, what did you do?’
I hear Eesha behind me, her soft voice struggling over the music as she tries to get my attention.
‘So yesterday, I might have taken a call for you,’ Kieran mutters sheepishly.
‘You’re allowed to answer the phone.’
‘And this caller was very keen to get in touch with you.’
‘Sophie,’ Eesha yells. ‘There’s a guy at the entrance for you.’
‘Can you deal with it?’ I ask. ‘It’s probably press.’
She shakes her head. ‘He’s not press. He says he knows you. He’s not on the guest list, he just wanted to say hi.’
‘Did he give you a name?’ I ask, trying to deal with two conversations at once while a Charli XCX track blares in the background.
‘Ellis!’ Eesha yells as she goes back towards the photobooth area. ‘Ellis something.’
I give myself a second to process this information. My head whips around towards Kieran. He smiles weakly. I feel like I’m about to faint.
‘I couldn’t put him on the guest list as you’re in charge of the guest list . . .’
‘You couldn’t have just given him my number?’ I ask, my brain racing. It’s been almost four months since I last saw him. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.
‘Well, yes, technically I could have but I thought this would be more fun. Plus, I kind of wanted to get a look at the guy who made you all dreamy.’
‘And what if I didn’t want to see him?’ I exclaim. ‘This is absolutely a violation of my privacy!’
His face crumples a little. ‘Shit, Sophie, I—’
I let out a loud exasperated groan. ‘Ugh. Fuck . . . so he’s here. He’s here and he’s outside.’
Kieran nods.
‘Fine.’ I shake myself off. ‘This is fine. How’s my hair? Do I have lipstick on my teeth?’
He peers at me. ‘You’re good. You look great. You do have sesame seeds from the burger sliders down your dress, though.’
‘Of course I do,’ I mutter, brushing myself down.
Seeds removed, I make my way to the front of the building, my stomach somersaulting with every step I take. I feel the chilly air nip me as I move past the bouncer and into the street.
It doesn’t take me long to spot him. Brown jacket, blue scarf, handsome face. I see his eyes widen when he sees me.
‘It’s really good to see you,’ he says, going in for a hug. ‘Are you well?’
‘I am,’ I reply, my heart now in competition with my stomach to see whether an angina attack or uncontrollable vomiting will end me first. ‘It’s good to see you too. Do you want to come inside?’
I lead him into the main hall and to the bar.
‘G&T,’ I say to the barman. ‘Ellis?’
‘Do you know if they do a Gully Wash here?’
I start to laugh. ‘Not on my watch.’
‘Corona if you have one, buddy.’
I grab a booth, reserved for Eddie at the back of the room. He’s nowhere to be seen and I need somewhere to calm myself.
‘I should apologise for this all being a bit cloak and dagger,’ he says, squeezing the lime into his beer. ‘It was your colleague – ’
‘Former colleague.’
‘ – who suggested coming along.’
‘Yeah, he happened to mention it a whole five minutes ago,’ I tell him. I catch Kieran watching from the edge of the bar. He raises what looks like a martini. ‘I would have called you back, you know. Saved you a trip down here.’
‘I know,’ he replies, ‘but I wanted to see you in person. To apologise. What happened . . . it wasn’t fair on you.’
‘Maybe not,’ I reply, surprised by his honesty. ‘But I don’t hold it against you. I am genuinely, really happy to see you.’
He smiles. ‘I just want you to know that I wasn’t messing with you, but I should have handled it better. My kids weren’t exactly pleased with my behaviour.’
‘You told your kids?’
‘Not explicitly,’ he replies. ‘They overheard me on the phone with my sister. I was interrogated the second I hung up.’
‘Awkward,’ I say, wondering what exactly he’d told his sister.
‘It was,’ he responds, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘According to Lena, kissing you and then pushing you away was a dick move.’
‘Wow, OK.’
‘And Chris thought I should have been upfront about his mom from the get-go.’
‘And your sister?’
‘She called me an idiot for not giving it a chance, told me that I’m not getting any younger and also that I owe her fifteen quid from ten years ago which she hasn’t forgotten about.’
I laugh at the last one but I’m not quite sure how to respond. It also feels strange that there’s now an entire family who are aware of my existence and kids who know that I kissed their dad.
‘So, yeah. I just wanted to clear the air. How have things been with you?’
‘Great,’ I reply. ‘Work’s good, busy as always. What about you? Did you come to a decision about your job?’
‘I did,’ he replies. ‘I have decided to stay where I am. I’m good at what I do. I like what I do. New contract starting in February.’
‘Good for you,’ I say, just as Rupert and Shelley sidle up to the booth. He has a glistening sheen of sweat covering the top of his head.
‘Rupert Nighy,’ he says, offering his hand to Ellis. Shelley just hovers there silently, looking like a haunted Barbie Doll.
‘Ellis Simon,’ he replies. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘This is my fiancée,’ he says, while Shelley remains silent. She’s either being exceptionally rude, or the copious amount of free prosecco has rendered her mute.
‘I’m Sophie’s boss,’ he offers, without being asked. ‘Owner of the agency.’
Ellis looks at me. I can tell he’s wondering how to respond.
‘We met on holiday,’ I answer on his behalf. ‘Ellis sails ships.’
I see the corners of his mouth shoot upwards.
‘Like a pirate?’ Shelley finally pipes up when it suits her. ‘How interesting. Sophie never mentioned you . . .’
Rupert side-eyes Shelley. He’s totally going to take away her company credit card.
‘I should get back to it,’ I tell Ellis, before Shelley sits on his lap. ‘I have a few things to deal with before we finish up. But I’d still like to chat. You’re welcome to hang around for a while.’
‘Sure. I can do that,’ he replies.
‘Shelley, have you met Sam Buckland? He owns a medical aesthetic clinic in Kensington.’
Her interest in Ellis quickly dissipates. I lead her away from the booth, towards Sam who might be about to regret turning up tonight.
The night draws to a close. Eddie seems cheerful, if somewhat inebriated. The left side of the collar on his polo shirt, stained by something brown, is standing to attention. I can’t take my eyes off it.
‘You’re the best, babe,’ he tells me, his drunken gaze focusing on my nose instead of my eyeline. ‘Focused. Smart. Intriguing. I’ll never go anywhere else.’
My blood runs cold. I don’t want him to think of me as intriguing. I’d prefer if he didn’t think of me at all.
‘That’s very kind of you to say,’ I respond. ‘But tonight was absolutely down to Eesha’s hard work.’
‘You know, if we weren’t involved in a professional capacity, I feel that we would become involved in a more personal capacity.’
‘Oh, I doubt that,’ I reply flippantly. ‘But I’m very glad you’re happy with the launch.’
I make my excuses and move on to other things. A personal capacity? Unless that involves me personally removing his inappropriate arse from this warehouse, rather than the bouncers, I think fucking not.
I finally make it back to Ellis, who thankfully is still around.
‘Sorry about that,’ I say, sitting back down beside him.
‘Not a problem,’ he replies.
‘These launch events are—’
‘I’d like to take you out sometime.’
My work-related musings come to an abrupt halt. ‘Take me out? Like a date?’
‘No, like a sniper. Yes, like a date. You know, with dinner and drinks. Awkwardness over who pays the bill, which I will obviously, just putting that out there.’
If he’d said this to me on the ship, I would have accepted in a heartbeat. But he didn’t. He made it clear that he wasn’t ready for any of this. He senses my pause.
‘I get it,’ he says. ‘You have every right to be hesitant. I haven’t done this since Abby passed and it scares the shit out of me, I won’t lie.’
‘I really like you, Ellis,’ I tell him. ‘But I don’t want to be the one you’re dating when you realise that you’re still not ready.’
He lowers his head and exhales. ‘I can’t make you any promises, Sophie, but nothing in life is certain, right?
You can’t promise me that six months down the road you won’t decide you hate my snoring and dump me for someone quieter who doesn’t work away from home for ten weeks at a time.
All I know is that week we spent together, Sophie, every day I looked forward to seeing you.
Spending time with you. Talking with you.
I haven’t laughed so much in a long time.
And that kiss. It meant something. I’d really like to see where this goes. ’
My face bursts with delight. I wonder if this little speech was off the cuff or preprepared before he came out tonight. I don’t care. It was perfect. Despite my attempts to minimise it or convince myself otherwise, he’s right. Our time together. It did mean something.
Part of me just wants to burst into song, but another, less weird part wants to hang back a touch. Be more like Mum. I’m playing my cards close to my chest. Don’t want him to think he’s won me over quite yet.
‘The snoring,’ I ask. ‘Exactly, how loud are we talking?’
‘Funkytown would seem like a library in comparison.’
As we lock eyes, a shiver runs through my body. The good kind. The best kind. My plan to play it cool lasts exactly thirty seconds.
‘One more question,’ I say.
‘Shoot.’
‘Can we kiss before this date? Because I swear to GOD if you don’t kiss me right now . . .’
He pulls me towards him and places his mouth on mine. If I wasn’t still at a work function, I would climb this man like a tree. It’s even better than the first time we kissed. If it meant something, then it means even more now.
‘So, is that a yes then?’ he asks.
I smile. ‘It’s the easiest yes I’ve said all year.’