Page 10 of All I Want for Christmas

‘Thanks.’

‘I’ll definitely be waiting for you outside.’

‘No. I’m working. If I’m late...’

‘Then I’ll keep waiting, don’t worry about it. Gtg but I’ll see you later.’

He clicked off before she could argue out of it.

Darcey stared at the text exchange. She’d been on the app for all of half a day and already she had a date. Erik was determined, she’d give him that. Was that what made him so successful? He was decisive, a go-getter; she’d messaged tosay she couldn’t see him and somehow he’d converted it into a win. He’d outpaced his competition by a country mile.

She clicked on Aksel the Vet’s latest message. He’d responded quite soon after Erik, but whereas the property developer had launched straight into action, Aksel had struck up conversation. They’d had a brief text exchange before her seminar as she waited for her students to arrive – nothing exciting and certainly not flirty, just the sort of small talk she always hated at dinner parties. Information-gathering exercises rather than genuine connections.

‘Have you ever visited South America?’

Darcy rolled her eyes, feeling herself prickle at the innocuous question. She resented this charade of courtesy, pretending to care about one another’s lives when invariably they both knew things between them would end the same way: once he’d got what he wanted he’d either cheat, ghost her or tell her he wasn’t ready for something serious. Well, neither was she. This project was going to take all her focus in the coming weeks and she didn’t have time to waste on chasing a fairy-tale myth. She would play the men at their own game: take what she needed and reserve her emotional energy for work alone.

She typed quickly.

‘Trekked Patagonia in my gap year. Machu Picchu too. Amazing. Would love to go back.’

That was a lie. It was a matter of once and done, as far as she was concerned. There were too many other places to see in the world to spend time retracing her own steps, but if it moved them along...Besides, men said what they thought women wanted to hear all the time.

‘I was thinking of visiting Stockholm in the next few weeks. Any recommendations?’

It was the perfect cue for him to offer to show her aroundhimself. A dirty weekend away with a hot vet with soulful eyes instead of her ex would be all the closure she needed.

Max the Lawyer hadn’t responded. Was he too busy even to match, or was she just not his type? She prickled at the thought of being overlooked by him. There was no doubt he could have his pick –

She put the phone down, forcing herself not to dwell on the thoughts of a man she had never even met. Right now, he didn’t know she existed.

She looked back at her reflection with a sigh. Did she look appropriate for tonight’s grandees? Sexy enough for Erik? It would have to be one or the other; she couldn’t oblige both. She twisted her hair up into a loose chignon and stood on tiptoe. It definitely needed heels.

She texted her flatmate.

‘Want to go halves on this? You’ll need something fancy if Loverboy’s going to be taking you out.’

Freja’s response was almost instantaneous.‘Love it! Done!’

Time!

She caught herself losing track again and unzipped the dress, throwing her clothes back on. The store would be closing soon and the shoe department was on the next floor up and the drinks reception was starting in ten minutes...

‘Shit-shit-shit,’ she hissed to herself, trying to get her arm through the inside-out sleeve of her jumper. She’d have to do her make-up and get changed in the toilets; a cab would only take ten minutes from here, so that should mean she’d arrive only fashionably late. And by then, hopefully, after Otto and anyone else she might know had arrived there.

A notification sounded, and she glanced at her phone as she threw the dress over her shoulder and darted out of the changing room.

‘Nightcap tonight?’

It was from Max the Lawyer. Talk of the devil!

She stopped dead in her tracks, feeling a jolt of euphoria that he had liked what he saw on her profile after all. Darcy had to admit, Freja had done a sterling job of pulling together the most flattering photos of her.

Darcy read the two words swimming before her. It was hardly a seduction, more of a proposition. No ‘Have you been to South America?’ from him; not even the ‘Hello’ Erik had managed, and she remembered the arrogance she’d read in his eyes. That air of self-importance. He was playing true to the form set up in his bio. No games here, at least.

Still, it felt nice to have a little win, and she sent back her own two-word reply –‘Busy, sorry’– before sliding the phone back into her bag with a sense of satisfaction and heading for the stairs.

Her new heels clicked on the limestone floor as she walked through the old galleries, in stark counterpoint to this afternoon’s hurried, rubbery squeak. She was a different creature entirely now, her work clothes stuffed into the backpack she had handed over in the cloakroom, her limbs bare, long hair pulled back in a bun instead of a ponytail, a red lip replacing flushed cheeks.

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