Page 18 of Asking For a Friend

I catch the eye of the Daddy and give him a wink. He sighs and runs his hand down his boy’s back. “Okay, Felix, I’ll leave it for now.”

“I love you, Daddy.” He leans in and receives a kiss.

Every plot bunny in my head is bouncing around like crazy over this adorable couple. But I’m sure it’s a story that has already been told dozens of times.

Connor nudges me. “Lando, what do you want to eat?”

“Oh, sorry.” I look at the menu. “Full English, fried bread, extra mushrooms and tomatoes, and a green tea, please.”

Thankfully, my friends leave the topic of Hesketh and dates, or no dates, alone and move on to discussing the latest FA results. I relax and enjoy myself, letting their chatter flow over me.

Monday morning rushes away from me. I’m lost in my characters again, barely thanking Kate when she brings me my tea. That is until someone sits in the chair opposite me, and I get the whiff of expensive cologne, the cologne Hesketh wears.

“Good afternoon, Lando.” Humour tinges his voice.

I blink a couple of times to focus. “Shit, I’m sorry.” I gather up all the papers. “Gimme two secs, and I’ll be ready.”

His warm hand covers mine, stopping it from picking up my notes. “It’s fine. We can do this another day.”

What is that supposed to mean? No one who starts a sentence with ‘it’s fine’ actually means it. Nope, it means the person is pissed off but being polite about it. Or it could be his way of brushing me off for good. Is it because I left him on Saturday night?

He keeps looking at me, but not out of annoyance, more like frustration. Are we back to miscommunications? I thought we’d cleared that up. Is he waiting for me to agree? Which would mean I’m accepting his excuse to break up with me. I don’t know if I can call us boyfriends yet, but we’re definitely more than lunch buddies now. No, I’m not giving up on whatever it is between us. I finish packing, walk around the table, stretch up, and kiss his lips. “Nope, I’m hungry. Where shall we go?”

He seems dazed but then gives me a full-force, dimple-laden smile. “The café down the road does a mean grilled cheese to go with their delicious soup.”

“Perfect.” As we walk out, I wave at Kate. Outside, I grasp Hesketh’s hand and slide my fingers between his. A pink tinge blooms on his cheeks. He must like my action, but I check anyway. “You okay with this?”

He squeezes my hand. “Yes, very much so.”

During lunch, he tells me he’s going to be away for a couple of days later in the week, and this will probably be the only time we can meet. “It’s a wedding in Norfolk, a country manor affair, the whole nine yards. But I like this couple. The brides are funny, and although they’re going big, it’s still a relaxed affair.”

“I hope the weather holds for them.” We’re in an Indian summer, and September is proving to be much warmer and drier than August.

He nods. “Can I see you on Friday night? I can cook for you.”

Another night at his place? If he asks me to stay, I’ll say yes this time. And by the look on his face, he’ll be asking. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

His smile lights up the room. “Thank you.”

I spoke too soon when I told Lando about my brides. Within an hour of my arrival, they’re arguing with me over every decision they have made.

“I’m sorry, but it’s too late to change that. Everything has been ordered and has been delivered.” The look they shoot my way could flay my skin from my body. “Your choices are perfect, Ashley. It’s going to look beautiful. This time tomorrow you’ll get to see it.”

Then they want to discuss the menu. Two of the guests have recently become vegan. At least this time, the brides aim their vitriol at them. “I’ll call the caterer straight away. It’s something they’re used to. They always have a vegan menu ready for times like this. Unfortunately, your friends won’t have a choice, but I can guarantee it will be delicious.”

“I don’t give a rat’s arse whether they like it or not. They can eat rabbit food for all I care.”

I don’t even hide my smile. “I think we can do better than that.”

We go through the remaining issues, and they relax as I tell them how much is being dealt with behind the scenes.

By the time I leave on Friday, one of my planners is en route and will be taking over for the big day tomorrow.

As I drive back into town, I think of Lando and what to cook for him. I detour and pull into Waitrose car park. I have a pretty good idea what he likes to eat and that he prefers fish or vegetarian options. I pick up some sea bass and veg, then grab a bottle of wine. I pause at the condoms. I still have a couple left in the box in the drawer. Fuck it. I snag a pack and another bottle of lube and chuck them into the basket.

Once I’m home and the food is in the fridge, I have a shower and do some personal grooming and cleansing. Once a Boy Scout, always a Boy Scout—be prepared. With the condoms and lube stashed away, I change my bed, putting fresh linen on. Am I being overconfident? No, just hopeful. Even if we don’t make it this far, I’ll have clean sheets to lie on while I sulk.

As I’m prepping the veg, the doorbell chimes. The noise startles me, which is ridiculous. I’m expecting it. I pull open the door, and Lando bursts out laughing. “Do you greet all your guests with a chopping knife in your hand? Are you going to murder me? I hope not. This shirt is one of my favourites.”

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