Page 11 of Asking For a Friend

“Do what? I only want him to be happy. His dry spell is lasting waaay too long.”

“I’m not having a dry spell. I’ve had sex, Ellis. It’s easier to find a hook-up with no strings attached than put the effort into a relationship, especially at this time of year. We’re going to be rushed off our feet until January. Anything more isn’t worth the hassle.” The words grate like sawdust in my mouth. It’s a total lie. I want more with Lando, so much more than a one-night-only gig. The chance to get to know him is more important to me than getting him into bed.

The fact that he didn’t even find my phone number and wasn’t apologetic about it made it clear he wasn’t being coy or enjoying the chase. He was genuinely baffled why I gave him the gifts, and up until our first lunch, he was dismissive.

I’ve never had to work this hard to get someone to even acknowledge my existence. I’m not bad looking, or at least that’s what I’m told, so getting dates hasn’t been difficult. This way with Lando is so much more fun.

“Read the damn message, Hesketh,” Ellis grumbles at me. “I won’t say anything.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and chuckle, turning the screen to Ellis. He rolls his eyes when he sees my mother’s name on the screen. “Told you.”

The phone buzzes again. Ellis grins. “That’s your man.”

Crap. I whip my phone around, and yep, Lando’s name is there. I bite the inside of my mouth to keep the smile from spreading, and swipe open the screen.

Hey, sorry for the delay. I was in the shower. Yes, for tomorrow. Let me know where and when, and I’ll meet you there.

I look at Sophie. “Sorry, can dinner wait a couple of minutes?” When she nods, I walk out into the hall and press Call.

Lando answers on the first ring. “Hi, I thought you were at dinner.”

“I am, but it’s not ready yet. I thought it would be easier if I spoke to you. Is there anywhere you’d like to go?”

He’s quiet for a moment. Hopefully, he’s thinking of a place, not letting me down. No, he said he wanted to do this. “Sorry, I was trying to remember the name. Do you know The Wheatsheaf on North Road?”

I ponder it but come up blank. “No, sorry. I don’t think so. Is it good? Of course it is. You wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. Sorry, I’m rambling. You tend to have this effect on me.”

His low chuckle sends goosebumps down my arms. “How about I send you the details? Can you do seven thirty? I can book a table if you’d like to eat?”

“Sounds great. Send me the address, and I’ll see you there.”

“Will do. Have a great evening, Hesketh.”

I love the way my name sounds when he says it. I say goodnight and pocket my phone again. “Sorry, I’m done and all yours. Feed me.” I laugh when Sophie threatens me with a bread knife.

“Sit your arse down there, lover boy.”

I don’t know what Sophie said to Ellis, but he keeps his mouth shut about Lando, and we sit back down. Sophie puts the pot of food in the middle of the table.

I fill up our glasses and tuck in. The food is amazing and the company fun, but my head is with a man spending the evening by himself.

The slow thaw of my mother’s frostiness started about three, four years ago. She began with a text every now and then, which soon became a phone call. After a few months, those short conversations changed into meet-for-coffee calls. I now let her in as much, or as little, as I want. I never want her to turn up on my doorstep unannounced and especially not on the weekend.

Tonight, I have a date, like an official dress-up-for-a-restaurant kind of date. This is so different from the picnics in the park or lunch in the coffee shop, and I’m looking forward to it. The butterflies upped and left hours ago. Now albatrosses, with their gigantic win span, are taking flight in my stomach. So why, when I see who waits on my doorstep, do I open the door? I should’ve pretended to be out and let her stand there, but I’m a nice person. Probably a foolish one.

“Mum, what are you doing here?” I don’t open the door too far. I don’t want her to think she can simply show up and walk in.

“Is that the way you should greet your mother, Orlando?” Her face already turns into a mixture of disapproval and annoyance. It’s a look she perfected over the years of being disappointed in me, long before the whole coming out debacle.

“Most mothers don’t turn up without an invitation or at least prior warning. What do you want?” I look past her. Thank god my father isn’t with her. That would have definitely ruined my day.

“I haven’t seen you for a while and thought it would be a nice surprise. We can do a bit of shopping and maybe some lunch out. Aren’t you going to let me in?”

Ah, that’s why she’s here. She wants to spend money on me. Her way of trying to manipulate me. She’ll use it as a weapon. I must do something for her because she did something for me. She conveniently forgets the fact that I have my own money now.

“I can offer you a coffee, but I’m busy today. You should have called first.” I’m not so busy I can’t make time for her, but I don’t want to. I want to work a few hours, then spend the rest of the day looking for something perfect to wear and getting ready for my date.

The albatrosses are back, flapping in excitement. I’m going on a date! I want to be aloof, not to look too deeply into what Hesketh’s offering, and enjoy the moment. I’m not going to be douching and changing my sheets with the hope he’ll come back here and fuck me into the mattress. I’ve not been imagining that for the last week, nope, not one bit. God, I’m such a liar!

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