Chapter 28
28
GRETA
As I climb the stairs to our meeting point on the Golden Jubilee Bridge, my nerves ratchet up. The whole journey here, I’ve been mentally replaying my friendship with Ewan, wondering again at which point it shifted towards something romantic.
I think it might have been that first night when we met up by accident – his friend having to rush off and the gym fanatic fabricating a sister who needed a ride to the airport. There was that moment between us over dinner – a romantic spark.
I dismissed it in the moment, just like I have every time it’s occurred since, being too far up my own arse to see what was right in front of me.
But I do see now. I see it as if there’s a giant flashing sign blaring, ‘Greta, you muppet – it was Ewan you wanted all along!’
And that’s what makes me nervous.
What if I’ve completely misread everything, and Ewan doesn’t feel the same way? I’m hardly an expert in reading romantic signals. Maybe he was just being friendly. And now that I’ve realised I have feelings for him, what if he only wants to be friends?
Oh god, is this how proper dating works?
With Darren, we just sort of fell into a relationship. We never discussed being exclusive – which in hindsight, we should have because I obviously needed to spell out to him that sleeping with other women is a no-no when you have a serious girlfriend.
And now…?
What I’ve learnt over the past month is that I’m a total novice in this area, constantly confused and full of doubt. How are people doing this as part of their normal, everyday lives?
‘Because normal people simply date and fall in love, and your situation is anything but simple,’ I mutter to myself.
I don’t have time to ponder this conundrum further because when I look up, Ewan is waiting at the top of the stairs, and my heart elbows my head out of the way, shouting, ‘There he is!’
We exchange grins and when I reach him, he gently clasps my arm to pull me close for a soft cheek kiss. He’s wearing that lovely cologne again – the one with spicy sandalwood notes. It’s divine.
‘Hello. You look beautiful,’ he says, his eyes taking in my outfit, then meeting mine. A thousand butterflies launch inside me, fluttering about, and I have to nudge myself to reply.
‘So do you – handsome, I mean.’ And he does, having chosen a dress shirt in the exact shade of blue as his eyes. He smiles at me, tilting his head in modest shyness, then slides his hand down my arm and clasps mine.
I never knew that holding someone’s hand could be so… so… sexy . The tingles racing about my body are compounded when he laces our fingers together.
Even I know this is a good sign that Ewan feels the same way I do.
‘Now those are rather gorgeous shoes,’ he says, ‘but we do need to walk across the bridge and a little further. I’m not going to need to carry you, am I?’ he teases.
We both look down and I point one toe and move my ankle from side to side to show off the shoe. ‘These are Lorenzos, so, no,’ I say, and our eyes meet again. ‘The most comfortable sexy shoes on the planet.’
‘Excellent. This way,’ he says, and we cross the bridge towards South Bank.
‘So, have I managed to find someplace you’ve never been before?’ asks Ewan as we’re being seated.
He has! We’re at The Archduke, which is cleverly integrated into the arch under the bridge, its architecture and design a mix of industrial and ‘high-end pub’.
‘Was that your goal?’ I ask with a laugh.
‘I wanted to return the favour,’ he says. ‘ And impress you. The food here is fantastic, by the way – and they have a comprehensive cocktail menu. I know you like your cocktails,’ he adds right as the waiter hands me the bar menu.
‘Thank you,’ I say to him.
‘Now we do have to be somewhere else at a quarter to nine,’ says Ewan mysteriously, ‘but that leaves us plenty of time to have a drink and eat dinner. It’s nearby, so no need to rush.’
‘You’re not going to tell me where we’re going?’ I ask.
‘Better if it’s a surprise,’ he replies, winking.
With a smile, I look back at the menu, hoping it’s not obvious to Ewan that I’m catching my breath. Between the cologne and the way that blue shirt accentuates his eyes – and the thoughtful plans – this is already the best date I’ve been on since… well, ever .
We decide on cocktails – a Negroni for me and something called a Mezcalita for Ewan, which is made with tequila – as well as steaks (what The Archduke is famous for) and wine to have with dinner.
Like last time we went to dinner, I defer to Ewan to order the wine, and he selects an Argentinian Malbec. No doubt it will have the one wine characteristic I’m confident of: yumminess. Though, Ewan won’t let me get away with that – not after that whole ‘close your eyes’ episode when we were at The Port House. Note to self: pay extra special attention when the wine is served.
‘Congratulations on the latest issue, by the way,’ he says after the waiter takes our order.
‘Oh, you enjoyed it? And, yes, I am blatantly fishing for a compliment.’
‘A well-deserved compliment. It really was an interesting read. I especially liked the article on professions of the future, how the traditional nine-to-five model is diminishing – fascinating.’
‘ Thank you. And I can see why that would have resonated.’ I regard him closely. ‘You know, I have so much admiration for you – how you stepped away from corporate life and did something completely different, something you’re passionate about,’ I say.
I realise as soon as the words are out of my mouth how unguarded that was, but isn’t that what this evening’s about, letting down my guard and diving into this date wholeheartedly?
‘Oh, that’s…’ He looks down, his slight embarrassment evident, which is endearing. ‘Thank you. So far, so good – even though most people in my life think I’m just “going through a phase” – a midlife crisis of sorts – and soon I’ll “come to my senses” and go scampering back to my old job.’
‘Who says that? I want names,’ I say, making him laugh.
‘Let’s see, there’s my parents, my brother, his wife…’
‘God, that makes what you did even more impressive. Is anyone on your side?’ I ask.
‘Well… you are.’
He holds my gaze, then reaches for my hand across the table. My breath hitches as I slide my hand into his and he looks intensely into my eyes.
‘Thank you for telling me that – about admiring me. You have no idea how much I battle self-doubt on a daily basis. Even though The Daily Grind is a success – by any metric – I still keep questioning what the hell I’m doing. I mean, I was that bloke at uni who was laser-focussed on my studies and my career. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, who I wanted to work for, and I landed my dream job right out of the gate. But recently, only just this year, I had this epiphany – sorry, that sounds naff…’
‘No, not at all. So, what was the catalyst?’
‘Well…’ He inhales a deep breath. ‘Sally never wanted children and I thought she would change her mind about that. She didn’t and it all came to a head one day – we’d been to this christening for our friends’ daughter and… Never mind, you don’t need to hear the gory details, but we talked it through and realised we would be better off as friends.’
‘That’s… That must have been really difficult,’ I say, though a teeny part of me is rejoicing at the discovery that Ewan wants children.
‘It was,’ he replies, ‘but that was nearly a year ago and I think we’re in a good place now.’
It seems like he doesn’t want to say anything more on the subject, and while I don’t mind him mentioning Sally, I’m glad we’re not going to keep talking about her.
Our cocktails arrive and after the waiter sets them down, Ewan raises his and meets my eye. ‘To Greta, for being kind and understanding and a good listener.’
We lock eyes and I raise my glass. ‘To Ewan, who is brave and funny and very generous, especially with baked goods.’
He breaks into a smile, and we clink our glasses together and drink. I swallow, then lick my lips. ‘That is an excellent Negroni,’ I say.
‘This is good too.’ He sets his glass on the table. ‘So, back to Nouveau Life ,’ he says. ‘I looked for your article – the one about obsessive behaviour – but I couldn’t find it. When’s it being published?’
Well, bollocks. I’d forgotten about that lie.
I quickly recover, dodging the question with a half-truth. ‘Actually, that got pulled. Part of the fallout from the situation at work I mentioned.’
‘Did you want to talk about it? I wasn’t going to bring it up, but I’d be happy to listen if you want to tell me what happened.’
‘That’s kind, but it’s messy – very .’
‘I can handle messy,’ he says.
I take a moment, feeling the weight of his seemingly simple statement. Because isn’t that what we all need at times? Someone close to us who can handle the messy parts?
‘Okay,’ I say, accepting his offer to listen. ‘We discovered that my assistant editor was feeding Nouveau Life IP to a competitor.’
‘Oh no,’ he says, recoiling in horror.
‘Yes. That’s about how I responded when I found out. Anyway, yesterday we sacked her, and it was… it was shit, actually,’ I say with a droll smile.
‘I can only imagine. Were you close? Professionally?’
‘I chose her especially for the role. And yes, we were close. Or I thought we were. That’s what hurt most – the betrayal.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
I shake my head to dislodge all thoughts of Bex and smile at him brightly. ‘Anyway… enough of all that. Tell me something fun. Tell me what Remy’s been up to – or how about our MI6 agent?’
‘Our MI6— Oh , the English-breakfast-plus-a-shot-of-espresso bloke.’
‘Has he been back?’ I ask. ‘With everything going on, it feels like ages since I was at The Daily Grind. I’ve missed out on all the action.’
Ewan grins. ‘Actually, he came in again yesterday.’
‘And?’ I ask with a laugh.
‘ And I overheard him telling another patron why he orders coffee and tea together.’
‘You did not! Way to bury the lead!’
‘Sorry,’ he says, raising his hands in contrition. ‘I’d planned to tell you, but the moment I saw you on the bridge, I was so taken aback by how gorgeous you looked, every other thought flew out of my head.’
The compliment sends a shockwave of joy surging through me. I’m more lit up inside than London on Bonfire Night.
‘Well, in that case, I forgive you,’ I say with my best flirtatious smile.
His mouth quirks. ‘How magnanimous of you.’
‘I am nothing if not magnanimous.’
He pauses, his expression becoming earnest. ‘I think it’s a good sign that we can tease each other, don’t you?’ he asks.
‘I think so too. And I enjoy teasing you,’ I say with a head tilt.
His eyebrows shoot towards his hairline, and he smirks knowingly.
‘Oh god, I didn’t mean that to come across as sexual . Not that I don’t want anything sexu— Bollocks. Shut up, Greta!’
His smirk widens into a grin and we both burst out laughing.
‘So,’ he says as our laughter dies away, ‘just to clarify: you are amenable to something sexual happening between us?’
‘Oh my god.’ I grab the top of my head with both hands, pulling my chin onto my chest while Ewan chuckles away. ‘Please stop laughing at me,’ I say.
I feel a gentle tug on my forearms. ‘Hey…’ I drop my hands and lift my gaze. ‘I promise I’m not laughing at you.’
I stare at him disbelievingly.
‘Well, I was, but it definitely wasn’t malicious. On the contrary, I am delighted to learn that you?—’
‘Stop!’ I say, dissolving into laughter again. ‘You win! I fancy you, all right?’
‘That is more than all right,’ he says wearing a cat-that-got-the-cream smile, ‘because I thought you were gorgeous the very first moment I saw you.’
‘You did?’
‘I absolutely did.’
We fall silent, an intense look passing between us. I really wish we hadn’t ordered steak and sides and a bottle of wine. All I want is to abandon dinner and head back to mine – or Ewan’s – I really don’t care.
‘The ribeye and the sirloin,’ says our waiter, placing our plates in front of us. His not-so-perfect timing breaks the spell, and Ewan and I both make a show of oohing and ahhing over our steaks. ‘I’ll be back with your sides,’ says our waiter.
‘So!’ I say, pretending as if we didn’t just engage in a sexually charged bout of staring, ‘the MI6 agent – what’s the story behind the coffee–tea combo?’
‘I’ll tell you, but I should preface by saying it’s hugely disappointing and has nothing whatsoever to do with spy craft.’
‘Maybe you should make something up then.’
He laughs.
‘No, don’t – I want to know the real reason.’
‘Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
I prop my chin on my hand to show him he has my full attention.
‘So, one morning…’ he begins, as if he’s about to regale a richly layered tale, ‘he was making coffee for his sister and tea for himself, and he absent-mindedly added the second shot of espresso to the wrong mug. He didn’t realise until he drank his tea that it had coffee in it, and he liked the result.’
‘You’re right. I need you to make something up.’
‘I told you.’
‘You did.’ I sit back and pick up my knife and fork. ‘So, tell me what Remy’s been up to instead – it’s gotta be more exciting than that .’
Our sides arrive – mashed potatoes, mushrooms, and green beans – and we serve portions onto our plates.
‘He’s doing well. He’s made a new friend at doggy daycare – a female poodle called Coco. Apparently, they spend all their time together – they even share a bed.’
‘Oh, that’s adorbs,’ I say with a laugh.
‘He’d like to meet you, you know.’
‘Oh, he told you that, did he?’
‘Probably just to shut me up – apparently, I talk about you all the time.’
‘You’re flattering me.’
‘Is it working?’ he asks.
‘I’m not mad at it.’ We exchange another charged smile. ‘So, are you really not telling me where we’re going after this?’
‘I’m really not telling you. Besides, it will become extremely obvious almost as soon as we leave The Archduke.’
‘Hmm, okay…’
‘Just let it be a surprise…’ he teases with a grin.
‘ Fine ,’ I say with a pretend pout.
‘The wine, sir,’ says our waiter. ‘Apologies for the delay.’
Now, I don’t mind our waiter – he’s polite and he’s reasonably good at his job, even if he did bring the wine after the food – but his timing is atrocious. ‘Bugger off!’ I want to tell him. ‘Can’t you see this lovely man is trying to seduce me?’
Trying? Who am I trying to kid? Ewan very much had me at ‘hello’.