Page 63 of The Dicktionary Club

Philip grinned widely. ‘Agh, I nipped to the Ho Wong and got us some curry and ribs!’

‘Right. OK, well, I’llerr.?.?. grab us some plates?’ I said, walking over to the tea cupboard across the room and gathering plates and cutlery.

Why was he here? Why would he just stop by unannounced? I was grateful for the munch, but I could never work out this man’s intentions. What was he playing at?

On my way back I couldn’t help but notice how out of place Philip seemed in my small, empty office. Smart Reputations only had two men who worked there and both were gay. Philip was buttoned into a full suit, shirt and tie, looking unbelievably smart yet tired, as if he had been stuck in meetings the entire day.

I passed him a plate, gesturing for him to take my chair while I wheeled Zola’s over to join him at my desk. It all felt quiet and awkward. I had no idea why he would come to my work unannounced. Fuck, I even texted and phoned my mum before stopping by the family home.Who turns up without warning?

‘So, this is where the magic happens?’ he asked, dishing out the rice and curry. I watched him, looking so unusually domesticated. He passed my plate over to me.

‘Thanks. And, yeah, I suppose it is. The offices are not as flashy as you might first think, eh?’ I glanced around the room with its cheap carpet and Ikea furniture, and imagined what Philip’s offices looked like. Probably glass-topped tables and polished marble flooring.

‘As long as everyone is happy at work, that’s all that matters.Oh, here.’ He rummaged into his trouser pockets and pulled out two cans of Irn Bru. ‘No more hands, with the flowers and food.’ He smiled brightly.

‘Oh, right! That’s what that was!’ I teased, reaching over for a can. ‘Thanks.’

‘Cheers!’ He held up his own can and we banged them together, then began tucking into the food.

A few seconds later, with my mouth full of delicious curry, I was still trying to make sense of the situation. ‘Sorry to ask again, but why did you come here? Were you passing by?’ I asked, feeling out of sorts.

‘No. I wanted to see you. To help you.’ His dark eyes glanced up at me as he lifted a rib to his mouth. He winked.

I rolled my eyes, unwilling to fall for his charm.

He sat back in his chair. ‘What?’

‘I don’t know.’ I shook my head. ‘I suppose I just don’t buy it. It feels weird.’

‘Ohhhh. OK. So, you’re not used to men being spontaneous and doing nice things for you?’

I hummed a little, knowing he was trying to play the misunderstood martyr card. ‘I’m the one who does nice things for myself, Philip. I don’t need anything from a man or from anyone, I guess. And I don’t mean to sound rude, but it feels strange that you’d come here. We were practically strangers a week ago, and suddenly you’ve saved my jobandnow you’re bringing me Chinese food, plus a bunch of morbid roses?’

‘Yes. You’re welcome, by the way.’ He tucked into his food again, and I could feel my blood boil.Do women actually fall for this shit?The Mr Nice Guy act?I could see right through him. We ate in silence for a while; the food was good and I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

‘How long have you been single, Ella?’ Philip asked.

‘A while,’ I replied bluntly.

‘Yes, I can tell.’ He gave a cheeky grin, pushing his plate over to the side of the desk, having had enough.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I sat back in my chair, wondering if my shoe was ready to come off again.

He looked me up and down. ‘It was just an observation.’

I didn’t want to give in to his schoolboy tactics, so I took a few more spoonfuls of curry.

‘How long have you been single?’ I eventually returned the question, remembering the unanswered calls from different women showing up on his phone.

Philip laughed loudly. I could tell he felt uncomfortable with the roles reversed. Then he let out a huge groan and rubbed his head.

‘Ahhh.It’s not long then – that’s if you’re even single now!’ I tutted. I stood up to clear the plates, but as I reached for Philip’s, I knocked over his can. ‘Oh, shit!’ I panicked as the sticky orange liquid spread quickly all over my desk.

Philip jumped up to save his expensive suit. ‘Are there any tissues or a cloth?’ he asked.

‘Yeah! Erm .?.?. In the drawer,’ I said, flustered, picking up my keyboard to avoid it being flooded. ‘Fuck, hurry!’ I said, hating the idea of working in a sticky mess.

‘I am trying!’ Philip rummaged through my desk drawers, eventually finding the tissues. As he lifted them out, he gasped. My eyes darted down to my drawer, where the giant Rampant Rabbit sat proudly.

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