Chapter 21
21
GRETA
We step out into the cool, evening air and, as I’m now convinced we are on a date, I suddenly feel awkward. It’s been easy to pretend we’re simply two friends out for dinner while actually eating dinner, but this is the part of the evening where a goodnight kiss would typically occur.
Do I want to kiss Ewan? I stare at his mouth, the question looming large in my mind as the silence between us grows.
‘Is everything all right?’ he asks.
‘Absolutely,’ I lie and my response is so over-the-top enthusiastic, his lips part in surprise.
‘Oh good. You just seem… Never mind,’ he says with a smile. I note with disappointment that it doesn’t reach his eyes, which in the dusk light are darker blue than usual. Even if I decided I did want to kiss Ewan, the mood between us is now decidedly un -datelike.
‘Would you like me to walk you to Charing Cross station?’ he offers.
‘Oh… Thank you, but then you’d have to double back. I’ll be fine,’ I reply.
He nods. ‘I had a lovely time tonight, Greta.’
‘Me too,’ I reply.
‘We should have dinner again next week – I think it’s my turn to choose, or perhaps we could try someplace neither of us have been, if you like?’
‘I’d like that,’ I say.
Then he leans down and presses his lips softly to my cheek. When he steps back, his cologne – one of Tom Ford’s, I think – lingers in the air between us. He flashes me another smile and says, ‘Goodnight, Greta. See you at The Daily Grind.’
‘See you,’ I say, then we head off in opposite directions, disappointment settling into the pit of my stomach like a lump of lead.
I did want to kiss Ewan.
‘Bex, can you stay back for a moment,’ I ask after the editorial meeting. Taj and Lisa leave, and Bex fixes me with an inquisitive smile.
‘You did a great job editing “Dating Horrors”,’ I say when we’re alone. As no one besides Bex and Anjali know it’s my dating ‘adventures’ that are kicking off the series, we’re aiming to maintain my anonymity indefinitely.
‘Thanks,’ she says with a glint in her eye. ‘I’m so excited about the column. It’s going to be brilliant – especially when we start incorporating reader contributions,’ she adds, referring to her inspired idea to keep the series going. ‘Terrific for online engagement.’
‘You sound like a managing editor in the making,’ I say proudly.
‘Aww,’ she says with a modest head tilt. ‘That’s the dream.’
I’m glad Bex and I got past our blip. I still have a lot to learn about being a boss, but I appreciate the lessons learnt from our recent conflict: be accountable, be transparent, and trust .
‘Right, we should get back to our desks,’ I say. ‘There’s still a bit to do before the end of the day.’
‘Aren’t you heading to the coffee shop this morning?’ she asks as we walk towards my office.
I’m not going to the coffee shop because I’m steering clear of The Daily Grind until I can get my head around what’s happening between me and Ewan. It’s been two days since our dinner at The Port House and every moment outside of Nouveau has been spent unpacking what happened – mostly at the end of the evening. How the hell didn’t I see it sooner – the shift in my friendship with Ewan to something potentially… well, romantic ?
And I’ve got a date with Harrison tomorrow night.
Maybe it’s not too late to ask Poppy to fit me with those romantic training wheels. I feel as if I’m careening off the path straight towards a giant tree.
‘Er, no, not today,’ I say lightly. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I was going to be cheeky and ask you to bring me back a cronut, but I’ll pop down myself. You want anything?’
‘Er…’
She laughs. ‘It’s just a coffee, Greta,’ she teases.
‘Right. Sorry – I’m a little distracted,’ I say.
‘That’s okay.’
‘I just want the second issue to be even better than the first,’ I add, outright lying. Not sure why I felt the need to say that. Nor am I happy with how easily they come to me now – the lies.
‘Of course – me too. So… anything from the coffee shop?’ Bex asks again.
‘Oh, sorry!’ I shake my head at myself. ‘Thanks, but I’m all right.’
‘Okay,’ she says and with a baffled smile, she heads towards the lifts.
If I keep behaving like this, Tiggy won’t be the only one calling 999 to report a body snatching.
I need advice from my matchmaker.
‘This place is great,’ says Poppy, sliding onto the barstool next to mine at Gin Palace.
‘It’s my favourite for after-work drinks,’ I reply. ‘I got here a little early to snap up seats at the bar. Otherwise…’
I look about, nodding towards the dozen or so patrons who are standing.
‘Oh, good call. So, what do you recommend?’ Poppy asks. She picks up the cocktail menu and scans it.
‘This is a Royal Garden,’ I reply, holding up my cocktail. ‘Elderflower gin, prosecco…’
‘Oh, yum.’ When the bartender approaches, she says, ‘I’ll have the same as my friend, please.’
Friend . She could have said ‘colleague’ or ‘client’, but she called me her friend. I suppose the lines have become a little blurry over the past few weeks. Coincidentally, this is what I want to talk to her about – blurred lines.
We chit-chat about nothing of consequence while we wait for her cocktail and when it arrives, she holds up her glass.
‘To “Dating Horrors of London”,’ she toasts.
‘Cheers,’ I reply.
Poppy takes a sip of her Royal Garden. ‘Oh, that is good.’ She licks her lips, then sets her glass down. ‘Now, why are we having drinks on a Friday night?’ she asks. ‘I’m guessing it’s not so you can show off your fave cocktail bar?’
‘No,’ I say with a smile. Poppy’s always so forthright, something I especially value while I’ve been navigating my recent challenges.
‘I’m in a bit of a pickle,’ I tell her. She leans in, her eyes trained on mine, inviting me to say more. ‘Do you remember Ewan, the man from the coffee near Nouveau ?’
‘I remember. What about him?’
‘Well, first off, he actually owns The Daily Grind.’ Predictably, she seems dumbfounded. ‘I know, I felt the same way. But I went in on Monday and he was working there, which is how I found out. And because we see each other most days and have become quite friendly, I really thought it would have come up before. I don’t think he was deliberately hiding it from me, but…’
‘It’s a little strange he didn’t tell you but you’re probably right that there’s nothing nefarious in it.’
Bolstered by Poppy’s understanding, I take a sip of my cocktail, then move onto the real reason I’ve asked to see her.
‘And you know how I’m going out with Harrison tomorrow night?’
‘I’m across that piece of information, yes,’ she says with a wink.
‘Right – of course you are. It’s just… something’s happened and…’
The smile falls from her face. ‘Do you need me to postpone the date? Oh, you don’t want me to cancel it, do you?’ she asks, her concern obvious.
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Why don’t you tell me what’s happened? Are you having second thoughts now we’re moving onto your real potential matches?’
‘Sort of.’
‘Is this “sort of” to do with Ewan?’
I nod and she watches me, patiently waiting for me to explain. I take a deep breath and launch into an account of the time Ewan and I have shared since we met, culminating in last night’s dinner.
‘And how did you leave things? You know, at the end of the… evening?’ she asks, obviously skirting around the word ‘date’.
‘With a promise to do it again next week and a kiss on the cheek.’
‘Describe the cheek kiss,’ says Poppy. ‘Was it a peck or softer, more considered?’
I think back to our goodbye outside The Port House – the internal battle, the kiss on the cheek, the disappointment as I walked to the Tube station alone…
The memory dissipates and my mind returns to the bar. I expel a loud breath, then meet Poppy’s eye.
‘That might just say it all,’ she says.
‘What might? And what is it saying?’ I ask, already knowing the answer.
‘The look on your face. Do you think you might have feelings for Ewan?’
I slip my forefinger into my mouth and nibble on the nail. Isn’t this precisely why I asked to meet with Poppy, to get a second opinion? So why am I being coy? We both know what my answer is.
I drop my hand. ‘I think so.’
‘Okay. So now you’re wondering if you should meet Harrison?’
‘Yes. I mean, is it fair to Harrison when I already have feelings for Ewan – even if I’m not entirely sure what they are or what they mean?’
‘Well, ordinarily, we only match a client with one person at a time and this is one of the reasons – to avoid situations where someone develops feelings for two people at once.’
‘Is there a “but” coming? Please tell me there’s a “but” coming.’
‘But Ewan is already in your life, so…’ She frowns slightly as if she’s considering a conundrum.
‘You don’t know the answer?’ I ask, panic rising.
‘Matchmaking isn’t an exact science,’ she replies, ‘but we have guidelines for a reason.’
‘That makes sense,’ I admit, my shoulders slumping. It may make sense but it’s also disappointing. For the past month, I’ve been building up Harrison in my mind and I want to meet him.
‘Hey, can you give me five minutes?’ she asks, sliding off her stool. ‘I want to call George and get his take on all this.’
A glimmer of hope!
‘Of course! I’ll be right here,’ I say, flashing a smile. As soon as she leaves, I huff out another sigh and take a sip of my cocktail.
‘Another?’ asks the bartender, pointing to my nearly empty glass.
‘Sure, why not?’ If Poppy returns with good news, it’ll be a celebratory drink. And if not, I can drown my sorrows.
Only, which news is which? Is the agency agreeing to let me go out with Harrison good news or bad?
‘Oh, Greta, how did you get yourself into such a confounding situation?’ I ask myself.
Poppy
‘It’s not like you to second-guess yourself, Poppy,’ says George.
‘No, I know, but I think Anjali showing up at the agency has made me a little gun-shy.’
It’s only as I say this that I realise how much it rattled me to have my matchmaking methods questioned like that. I’ve gone to Saskia and Paloma for advice in the past – and there have been a handful of extreme situations in which I’ve sought their permission to implement a creative (i.e. way -outside-the-box) solution – but typically, I’m given full autonomy on my cases.
‘Understandable,’ he replies. ‘But you did say Ewan was a potential match. I mean, we bumped him up to the number-two spot.’
‘That’s why I called you – to get a sense check.’
This is one of the main reasons we’re always assigned a second – a lieutenant who can act as a sounding board and help us make sense of sticky situations.
‘So, which way are you leaning?’ he asks.
‘That’s the thing – in the five minutes since she brought it up, I’ve gone back and forth twice. Harrison is not going to stay single forever, and we don’t want Greta stringing Ewan along if she and Harrison are a match. On the other hand, she met Ewan organically, which is always a plus, and based on her recount of last night, I’d say there’s a strong chance they’re a match.’
‘Right. Hmm.’
I watch the traffic along the Strand as George and I silently chew on this dilemma.
‘I suppose the big question is,’ he says eventually, ‘will Greta be able to set Harrison aside without meeting him? What if she always wonders, “What if”?’
George is right. I hadn’t even considered that aspect.
‘Then it could hinder her building a successful relationship with Ewan,’ I reply.
‘So, are we saying what I think we’re saying?’ asks George.
‘We are. If we take Harrison off the table right now, it could backfire and I’m not prepared to take that risk. So, Greta gets one date with Harrison, then she must choose.’
‘Only you have to make it a recommendation, rather than a mandate.’
‘Yep.’
‘Well, good luck, Poppy.’
‘Thanks for being such a good second.’
‘Of course! Oops, gotta go. My ride’s here.’
He ends the call and now it’s just me and an anxious client with two love interests. What could possibly go wrong?