Page 2 of Asking For a Friend

Hot coffee guy brought all that back.

Stop it. I need to get my head back in the story and let them find the forever everyone deserves. It’s time for their first kiss, the hesitancy, the brush of noses, the hot breath over dampened mouths, and finally the sweet brush of lips and a sigh as they part. Yeah, that will be good for them. It’s a shame that’s not how real life works. First kisses are a painful clash of teeth, uncomfortable bashing of noses, and either too much tongue or not enough, and take place when hands are already shoved down the front of a pair of tight jeans.

I finally find my groove and lose myself in the story, oblivious of anyone around me. Someone bumps into my table, and I snatch up my empty cup to stop it from clattering to the floor. I glance around. The room is almost empty, and it’s pitch-black outside. Shit, it’s late. I need to go.

“Sorry,” I apologise to the evening staff. I save my work and close down my laptop. After cramming all my notebooks, pens, and all the other crap I’ve spread around me into my bag, I sling the strap over my shoulder.

“Oh, Lando. Hang on,” Simon says. “There’s something here for you.” He reaches under the counter and brings out a small box.

“What’s that?” I take it from him.

“I dunno. Some guy dropped it off for you. He said you’d understand.” He shrugs and goes back to wiping down the coffee machine.

As I walk from the coffee shop to my office building, images of the horrified face of the guy, now with hot coffee splattered all over his jean-clad legs, pop into my head. Lando. It’s a cool name that totally suits him. But his refusal to give me his number or even believe I wanted it has set off a challenge in me. I’ll get his number and a date with him, but I don’t want to come across as pushy. He seemed skittish. So I’d better approach him with baby steps. With the beginnings of a plan forming, I walk into the office I share with my best friend, Ellis. When we first started our event business ten years ago, we had separate offices, but we kept walking between the two rooms. After only a month, we decided it was easier to share.

“What has given you that look on your face?” he asks as I place my half-drunk cup of coffee on my desk and hang my coat next to his. I stay silent, only smile, which is probably as wide as the Thames estuary. “Uh-oh. I’ve seen that look before. What have you done or are you planning to do?”

“Nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I straighten my face, pull my laptop out of my bag, and set it on my desk. “What’s happening today?”

Before Ellis can answer, our PA strides in with his iPad, giving us both a look our school houseparent would have been proud of. “Morning, lovelies. I hope you’re both caffeinated. It’s a busy day for both of you. The Christmas party scene is starting, so of course anyone who can afford you wants to book your services.”

I let out a groan and down the remains of my coffee. “It’s almost September, Tristan. Why don’t these people realise they need to book up in February if they want us to organise their parties?”

“That’s beside the point. You have some spaces, so I’m filling them for you. I’ve updated your diaries, so please check them, and come to me with any problems. Ellis, your first meeting is with Helena Durant. She wants the Saatchi Gallery. I’ve already told her that would be difficult, but she just scoffed at me. Have fun with that one.” Tristan smirks at my friend, who hates Helena Durant.

Ellis grimaces. “Why me? She always shows off how rich she is, and she touches me all the time.”

“She always asks for you, El. I think she luuuurves you,” I singsong and get a pen thrown at me.

“Hesketh, yours is with Stephanie Hardwick. You’ll like this one. She wants a winter wonderland in her back garden.”

I curb my desire to roll my eyes. Not another winter garden party. Every customer moans at the cost of all the heaters we have to place around the area. I glower at Ellis. “Whose idea was it to go into event-planning?”

“That will be you, sweetheart.” Tristan smirks, then spins elegantly on his heels and leaves us alone.

“So back to you and that grin. Whose number did you get this morning?”

I frown and send him a ‘shut up’ look. “No one’s and drop it.”

Now that was like a red rag to a bull. Ellis wasn’t going to let it go. “Do you mean someone said no to the famous Hesketh charm? Did you flash your dimples?”

Ellis had been my best friend since we started boarding school on the same day. We were eleven years old and trying not to cry as our parents were hustled out of our joint bedroom. We bonded over Green Day, Linkin Park, Avril Lavigne, and Panic! At The Disco. He had taped posters and pics of Gwen Stefani and Avril all over his side of the room, while I lusted after Billie Joe Armstrong and Brendon Urie. My coming out hadn’t fazed him. He carried on being by my friend, not letting anyone bully me.

Even through uni, when everyone assumed we were a couple, he didn’t care what anyone thought. Now he’s married and sickeningly in love with a woman I tell him is way too good and beautiful for him. Sophie is a former model who’s now a stay-at-home mum to their amazing twin girls.

“My morning started when someone slammed into me in the coffee shop, making me spill my coffee all over myself, the floor, and mainly him. There was no number swapping, just a mess everywhere.” I almost snarl at him, but if I don’t give him something, he’ll whinge and gripe until I tell him.

“Was he okay?”

“What? Yeah, of course he was.” Was he? The hot coffee splashing over him must have bloody hurt. I should apologise to him once more and ask if he was all right. What can I do to get his number? A gift, maybe? I need to think on that.

I open the Hardwick file with all the info Tristan has got from her. As always, he’s been thorough. All I need to do is arrange meeting her face to face and scope out the space. The budget is huge, which helps.

“Mrs Hardwick, this is Hesketh Trent from Make It Happen Events. You were interested in a winter wonderland. I’d like to go over the details with you. When would it be a good time to meet?”

After organising to see her this afternoon, I work on all the other parties and events we have running, and I get lost for the morning. When my stomach grumbles, I check my watch. Lunch time. I grab my coat and go to my usual deli. As I pass The Coffee Bean, I peer inside. The gorgeous auburn-haired man looks engrossed in his computer, picking up his cup without taking his eyes off the screen. An idea pops into my mind as to what to get him.

I push open the door, a bell tingling overhead, but it’s busy enough that he doesn’t seem to notice.

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