Chapter 20
‘ W hy don’t we go out for dinner tonight to celebrate?’ asked Adam. The others had left the kitchen after each demolishing a piece of nut-free chocolate cake. ‘We haven’t got around to our second date yet.’
‘Celebrate what? That I’m one step closer to the grave?’ I asked, putting my plate in the dishwasher and turning it on.
‘Oh, someone’s not happy.’
‘How does everyone know today is my birthday? I’ve managed to dodge Selena for years. Was it you who told them?’
It was pathetic how she’d lured me into the kitchen, saying an operative needed a first aider. When I’d entered the staff room, all my colleagues had been waiting to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ in false baritone and soprano voices – it was deafening.
Adam shrugged. ‘I didn’t know it was a secret.’
‘ Not any more …’
‘Well, if you change your mind about dinner, just let me know.’
‘I won’t,’ I told him and went back upstairs, carrying the pot plant the team had given me as a present.
*
It was almost half five when my phone buzzed. It was a short message from Adam saying, ‘ Please come downstairs .’ I thought everyone had gone home and I was alone in the building, but clearly, that wasn’t the case.
I’d been hiding at work to distract myself from what day it was. When I was a child, 12 July had always been about Isabel – she was the star every year. Not that I minded being in the background, but my parents never even attempted to change this, seemingly unaware that there was anything wrong with one twin’s wishes dominating every birthday.
The kitchen was empty; so was the lobby. I decided to check out the meeting room. A strange orange hue welcomed me as I stepped in. Adam stood under the covered-up window, right across the table from me, smiling at me graciously as if he were a host welcoming an important guest.
‘What are you still doing here? And what’s with all the candles?’
‘Well, I thought if the mountain wouldn’t come to Muhammad…’ he said, turning a bit sheepish.
‘You must be breaking so many fire-safety rules right now…’
‘Do you mean I just wasted my time lighting them?’
I looked at the brown paper bag in the middle of the table. ‘Depends on what’s in there.’
‘Be my guest,’ he replied and took a seat.
Pulling the bag closer, I recognised the distinctive smell of fast food even before I saw the red-and-yellow logo on the side.
‘Oh, it’s takeaway McDonalds! You know just how to treat a woman.’
‘I thought I’d play it safe… Where are you going?’
‘To get a knife and fork. There’s no cutlery with the salad. Tell me, why couldn’t we just eat in the kitchen?’
‘The chairs are more comfortable here,’ he said, pushing a clumsily wrapped rectangular package in front of me. ‘Why don’t you open this first?’
‘Unless it’s a knife and fork, then it won’t be much use to me right now,’ I replied but obediently undid the ribbon and opened the package. It contained a velvet case. I raised the top. ‘Wow, it is a knife and fork… and a spoon – you really shouldn’t have—’
‘Why don’t you look closer?’ he asked. ‘Start with the knife, then the fork.’
I lifted them out from the box one by one and read out the inscriptions .
You know how to twist a knife in my heart…
Still, I wouldn’t mind forking with you…
Or even spooning will do.
Tilting my head, I gave him a smile. ‘Very good. I honestly don’t know what to say.’
‘I was expecting an “Adam, you’re amazing” or “Adam, you’re so great; I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you”.’
‘Are you aspiring to be Jay-Z again?’
‘Nah, you’ve crushed my ambitions. Where are you going now?’
‘To wash the cutlery,’ I told him. ‘Who knows where these have been?’
‘They’re brand new – I just got them off the internet.’
‘Someone must have put them in that box. They didn’t just climb in there.’
He sighed. ‘I give up.’
When I returned and started eating my grilled chicken salad, he just folded his arms and leaned back in his seat.
‘I’m still waiting for the magic words,’ he said, looking cross.
‘Shut up.’
‘No, the other ones.’
‘Thank you?’
He finally allowed himself to smile again. ‘Wasn’t that hard, was it?’ he asked. ‘Want some fries? Have a burger too, but I dare you to eat with your hands.’
‘It’s not game time,’ I said, taking out a cheeseburger and a pack of fries from the bag carefully, like I was lifting out hazardous material. ‘Can you get me a plate please?’
He laughed. ‘I can’t believe it. You can’t even eat the fries with your hands. What’s wrong with you?’ he asked.
‘It’s called being civilised.’
‘I was going to say something else, but since it’s your birthday…’
‘Thanks for reminding me.’
‘No problem,’ he told me and left the room.
In less than a minute, he returned with two plates. I assumed he wanted to impress me by proving he could act civilised too. Though he didn’t get a knife and fork for himself.
‘So when’s your birthday?’ I asked once there was more food in my stomach than in front of me.
‘Why? Are you already thinking about what to get me?’
‘You know when mine is… I thought it only polite to ask. I don’t actually care.’
‘You saw my driving licence on the train,’ he said. ‘I thought you were good at remembering numbers?’
‘Yeah, well… I was so high I couldn’t even recall how I’d got into bed with you.’
‘On Christmas Eve.’
‘No, the party was on the twenty-second,’ I reminded him. We shut the site on Thursday instead of Friday, as David and I had agreed that there was no point forcing people to come in with a hangover. There weren’t any refurbishment works going on anyway by that point. ‘Normally, we have it a week earlier, but Selena said everything had been booked u—’
‘I was born on Christmas Eve.’
I raised my head in surprise. ‘Really? I’d have thought Selena would have made us celebrate your birthday.’
‘Well, I’d only been here a few weeks then…’
I nodded. ‘True. She must have thought you wouldn’t last long.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you can be too nice.’
He gave me a sceptical look. ‘You know, from anyone else, that would sound like a compliment.’
‘Being nice doesn’t get you anywhere in this business. One needs to be tough.’
‘Like you?’
I shrugged and took another bite of my burger.
‘How can you eat so slowly?’ he asked.
‘I’m enjoying my food – how can you eat so fast? You aren’t even chewing, just gobbling it up,’ I scolded. Then a few minutes later, I wiped my lips and announced happily, ‘I’m finished now – thanks. ’
‘No worries.’ He smiled then added, ‘Compared to how much you protested about dinner, you’ve had quite a lot. Good job I bought extra. Please remind me to never listen to you again when you say no to me.’
‘I said no to going out, but technically we haven’t gone anywhere. We’re still at work.’
‘You’re just arguing for the sake of arguing now. You just can’t bear to lose a fight.’
I rose from my seat. ‘Anyway, I’d better go home now.’
‘Hold on – I’m coming too. Let me just get rid of the fire hazards.’
I went upstairs for my laptop and handbag and tidied up the round desk (even Adam’s third) while he sorted the rubbish and made sure the meeting room had no trace of our impromptu dinner left. We then turned off the air con and the lights, and he locked up the office.
In the car park, we said goodbye, but before I reached my car, I turned back.
‘Wait,’ I shouted, and he stopped to let me catch up with him before he got in his car. ‘I’m going to do something, and I’m just pre-warning you because I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.’
He looked at me with suspicion. ‘O-kay?’
I grabbed his jacket collar, pulled him towards me, and gave him a deep kiss. He dropped the plastic bag containing the candles and held on to my waist instead. We were glued to each other’s lips for a long minute.
‘You can’t do this to me,’ he said when our lips parted. ‘You tell me not to get the wrong impression then kiss me like that. What impression am I meant to get?’
‘I just wanted to say thank you.’
‘I hope you don’t go around kissing everyone like that whenever you feel like saying thanks.’
‘I’m rarely grateful for things…’
‘I know – I’m only kidding,’ he said, finally letting go of my waist. ‘Now get yourself home safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.’