Chapter 10
The following day, I was ready to initiate my charm offensive, befriend Miss Bitchy Britches and make sure the office equilibrium was well and truly restored.
She was busy at her workstation, chewing her bottom lip in concentration and tapping figures into a spreadsheet on her laptop. Her curly blonde hair was piled up high on her head in a loose bun, and designer glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.
I cleared my throat to attract her attention. She looked up from her work, blinking a little like a newborn kitten, her eyes readjusting after staring at columns of figures for too long. She was smiling, but that quickly faded as soon as she realised it was me at her desk. Her hand unconsciously moved towards the coffee mug next to her mouse mat, clearly worried that I was going to grab it and offer to make her another drink.
“Morning, Jocasta, how are you today?”
My tone was bright and breezy, and I was grinning like a loon. If I was going to play nice, then I would be the nicest of the nice.
She eyed me a little warily, clearly wondering why her adversary was being so chipper.
“I’m OK, thank you, Lila; certainly feeling better than I did yesterday. I think it must have been something I ate.”
I smiled pleasantly at her.
“Well, I’m just glad to hear that you’re better now.”
At least this meant we didn’t have to address my switcheroo of the milk yesterday. She was obviously even keener than me to forget the unfortunate turn of events, and that suited me just fine.
Jocasta sat back in her swivel chair and eyed me suspiciously. She folded her arms beneath her bust. Defensive body language, if ever I saw it. However, the move only served to accentuate her ample bosom, which was already well and truly on display. I wondered if she had intended to leave quite so many buttons undone when she had got dressed that morning. The cream blouse was teamed with a fitted knee-length black leather skirt, and together they made quite a statement. And that statement most definitely wasn’t PG rated.
“I was thinking it might be nice if we popped out for some lunch together, say about 1pm? We haven’t had much chance to really get to know each other yet, and I thought it would make a nice change to get out of the office for a bit. There’s a new deli that’s just opened opposite The Fox Chicken pub.”
My offer hung in the air for a few seconds as I waited patiently for her reply. From the expression on her face, it hadn’t been at all what she had expected to hear. She probably assumed we would indulge in a little passive?aggressive office politeness, so we could get it out of the way before trying to avoid each other for the remainder of the day.
Her eyes flashed over me quickly from head to foot. I was confident there was nothing she could find fault with. I was dressed in a smart yet sophisticated manner: ankle-length black and white pin-striped skirt and cream polo neck. OK, maybe my outfit was a little dowager aunt for my liking. I had thought it so chic when I had found it in a little boutique in York, but now after checking my appearance in the office toilets, it had just appeared a tad severe. A little like Miss Havisham without the cobwebs. And if I was Miss Havisham, what did that make Jocasta? Miss Whiplash?
Her face softened and she smiled at me. God, I had to give her credit: she was good. If I didn’t know better, I would have believed that there was genuine warmth in that smile. No wonder Seb had been well and truly taken in by her.
“Thank you so much, Lila, I would really like that; everyone has been so nice in the firm, but it would be great for us girls to get to be friends.”
“Great, that’s sorted then: 1pm for lunch.”
As agreed, I arrived at Jocasta’s desk bang on 1pm and it barely took us five minutes to walk the short stroll to The Gourmet Delights, making awkward small talk along the way.
We stood two deep in a queue with the all the other hungry customers, waiting to place our order at the counter. My eyes swept around the interior of the shop: it was a new and stylish eatery, all polished surfaces and prints of avocados and smoothies to whet the appetite. And it boasted an impressive array of lunch options: a place designed for the busy worker who desired something more adventurous than a cheese and pickle sandwich wrapped in tin foil.
Within a few minutes, it was our turn to order. I hadn’t minded the wait. There were two staff serving: a young woman with spiky blue hair and an even spikier attitude, and a man in his early thirties who was extremely easy on the eye and could give Jason Momoa a run for his money.
Of course, he was younger than me, but then again who wasn’t? He had a little hipster edge about him, just enough to make him interesting, but not enough to render him tragic. I was so busy checking him out that I hadn’t even bothered to check out the daily specials on the board above his head. He was by far the most delicious thing in the place. But was he available? He’d certainly smiled over in my direction a few times, so it seemed promising.
I told Jocasta to order anything she fancied as it was my treat, so she weighed up the pros and cons between the falafel salad wrap and the halloumi flatbread. Quite the choice.
I knew what I was having: I’d already checked the menu online between meetings, so decided to jump in with my order. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity as the look-alike Mr Momoa was staring expectantly at me.
“Could I get the prawn layered salad please, with extra avocado.”
He smiled at me, showing a beautiful set of incredibly straight white teeth. His green eyes sparkled; he certainly had the “come hither” charm going on in spades.
“Of course, madam, a prawn salad with extra avo.”
He smiled at me again and I nearly melted on the spot. He really was flirting with me, and God was he sexy.
“And how about a drink?”
Well, this was more like it. I had been avoiding dating lately, the way I avoided the Jehovah’s Witnesses. After the last few disastrous dates, there were a few too many tossers or “Toffers” around for my liking. But an exception could definitely be made for Mr Sexy Stripy Apron here.
I tossed a slightly smug look in the direction of Jocasta, who was still deciding what to order. I was pleased to see she had heard our exchange and was now looking straight at us.
“That sounds like a great idea, how about Friday?”
Mr Apron’s brow furrowed slightly with confusion, and then the penny dropped, and he let out a self-conscious laugh.
“No, I’m sorry…I meant would you like a drink to go with your salad? We have a special lunchtime deal on any freshly squeezed juice: half price when ordering any sandwich or salad from the board.”
I laughed brightly, trying to give the impression I had been joking all along; but in truth I was absolutely mortified. There really was no way to style out this blunder. Fortunately, the customers around me had the good grace to avert their eyes to save me any additional humiliation. All except for Jocasta, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it all as her hand flew to her mouth to stifle her giggles.
“I’ll take a beetroot and raspberry juice please… large.”
I tried to avoid seeing my reflection in the polished chrome behind the counter. I could only imagine my face would be as red as the juice I had just ordered.