22. Brody
Brody
I’m dripping water down the corridor and I don’t even care. I can also barely walk, but I won’t say any more about that particular problem.
I grabbed my phone when I picked up my room key and I take a look as I scurry to my room. I’ve had a message from Matt. Looks like you had another close call
Why do I always make such bad choices? And then it hits me. Is this yet another one? Making out with my boss in a hot tub. Even ignoring the fact she’s a vampire, she’s still my boss. And it sounds so… sleazy. So much of a cliché it almost hurts.
Would it be a mistake to get it on with Ari? I ask Matt.
Yes, he replies. But it’s the first in a stream of messages.
But it could be fun too.
You don’t have to date her.
Actually she wouldn’t date you anyway.
Apparently she only does one night stands.
But I don’t want a one night stand.
Going back to Ari would definitely be a mistake.
I want to go.
But I shouldn’t. I need to make better choices.
And so I pull on some clothes and head back towards her room. She makes a face when she opens the door, half smile and half grimace.
“I… er…” I say, not quite sure how to put my feelings into words. And not wanting to either. I want to stride into the room and pick her up and throw her on the bed and forget this would be a terrible mistake. But it’s time I grew up. Time I stopped making dumb decisions.
She takes in my outfit, the fact I’ve put on a t-shirt and jeans and I’m no longer dripping wet in a fluffy hotel towel.
But hang on… she’s dressed too. A pair of wide leg joggers and a cashmere sweater.
She smiles at me, but there’s something underneath it.
Pity? Regret? A desire for me to leave her alone and for neither of us to ever mention this again?
“I’ll just…” I motion at the outfit I was wearing earlier before we stripped off for the hot tub.
“Yeah,” she says and steps to the side to allow me to rescue my clothes.
“Great. So… errr… good night, Ari,” I say and start walking backwards down the corridor.
“Good night, Brody,” she says as she closes the door, leaving me on my own.
We meet for breakfast the next morning, neither of us even mentioning what happened in the hot tub.
I can remember her lips on mine, her breasts pressing against my chest, the way she ground her hips…
but all I do is sit with my pancakes and black coffee and try not to spontaneously combust in my seat.
She finishes her bacon and eggs before wiping her mouth with her napkin and standing up. “Right then. I’ll go and finish getting ready. Meet by the car in twenty minutes?”
“Sure,” I reply.
“Great.”
“Great.” I can feel the tips of my ears burning.
Outside the bank, she turns to me and motions to the folder I’m cradling in my arms like a baby, partly because we can’t afford to lose it but also it feels almost like a security blanket, a shield behind which I can hide. “We can do this, Brody,” she tells me.
“Yeah.” But I look at the stack of membership projections and profit calculations, all carefully printed from the pro forma they provided on the bank’s website for us to complete. I don’t really understand any of it. Neither does Ari.
Luckily for us, it turns out that Rhys, our Business Banking Guru – yes, that’s his official job title – is far from the smooth professional I was expecting.
He’s in front of the bank when we arrive, puffing furtively on a cigarette.
“Ari and Brody? Oops, you’ve busted me having a smoke – not supposed to do that outside, but my secret’s safe with you, right?
” He flicks the butt round the corner and then opens the door.
“Come on in and let’s get you sorted out. ”
Everything inside the bank is shades of red and grey: crimson carpet, grey walls, vermillion chairs, a pot full of silver pens. Rhys is even wearing a burgundy jacket and a charcoal coloured shirt.
“These meetings are all pretty informal,” he tells us as we sit down in the two chairs opposite his desk. “We just like to make sure our applicants are human.” He laughs loudly.
“As opposed to what?” Ari asks carefully, her voice neutral but I can hear the undercurrent there.
“Well, robots,” Rhys says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Bots trying to create business plans to scam the bank, that kind of thing.”
“Well, we’re definitely not trying to scam the bank,” I say and make a weird noise which was meant to be a laugh but sounds off even to my own ears.
“Great,” Rhys says but he sounds almost bored.
He turns his attention to the screen on his desk.
“So it says here that everything in your application was in order. Everything filled in correctly.” He peeks out from behind the computer.
“So really all I need to do is tick this little “human applicants confirmed” button.”
I feel Ari stiffen next to me and I put my hand on her knee for a brief second. I want to reassure her that this is all fine. When he says “human” he isn’t meaning “not vampire”, he’s meaning “not a scam”. Our application is fine.
“Great. There we go.” He makes a show of click the left hand button of his mouse. “Woosh, and away the paperwork goes.” He laughs. “So, any questions?”
“What happens now?” I ask. “Like, timelines and things?”
“Well, now the branch manager, Ruth, will review the forms. Just to make sure you’ve filled everything in properly. And then the file just needs to go to Head Office for the final rubber stamping, and you’re sorted. It’ll only take a day, so by the end of tomorrow you’ll have the loan.”
“That’s it?” I ask. This all sounds too good to be true.
“Yep, that’s it.” He beams at the pair of us.
Ari has a nap in the car on the way back to Exeter and I spend the drive thinking about everything that could have been but now will never be.
She obviously doesn’t like me, not really, certainly not more than a quick fumble in the hot tub.
Maybe I was just a terrible kisser? Maybe I have bad breath or do something weird with my tongue?
I don’t think I do, but how would you know if no one ever told you?
But whatever it is, it’s probably for the best. Every relationship I’ve had has ended in tears.
My tears. I need to learn to read the signs more carefully, to stop rushing into terrible relationships with unsuitable women.
My phone rings just as I’m pulling into a space on Ari’s road. It’s Rhys from the bank.
“Everything is sorted and I’ve just sent the application back to Head Office,” he tells me.
“And it’ll definitely be approved?”
“I’ve never seen a loan get rejected after getting to this stage.”
I thank Rhys and then hang up the phone. I step out of the car into the weak sunshine of the afternoon.
“Holy crap. We actually did it,” Ari says as she unfolds from the passenger seat.
I want to pick her up and swing her round in joy. But I’m not sure she’d appreciate it and I’ve seen her teeth so I should probably try to keep her on side. “How about we go for a celebratory drink?” I ask instead.
“You, young sir, are a fucking genius,” she tells me and I blush with pride. “Take me somewhere that serves prosecco. But the cheap stuff, that loan might just save us, but I still can’t afford to be too flashy.”
It’s only when we’re five minutes down the road that I realise the awkwardness between us has gone, like nothing happened in Wales at all. Perhaps it’s for the best to forget all about it.