Page 93 of Forever, Maybe
“Oof, I’ve had way too much to drink. I need to use the ladies.”
The Joker’s toilets were their usual state of disrepair: partitioned off with flimsy whiteboard cubicles and featuring at least one blocked toilet. Nell leaned over the sink and peered at her reflection in the cloudy mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, a delicate pink that made her look more alive than usual.
Fishing into her handbag, she retrieved a compact and mascara, dusting her face with powder and adding a touch of definition to her lashes. Then came the familiar spritz of CK One, her signature androgynous scent since her university days. She blew a kiss at her reflection, her lips curving into a wry smile.
“Flirting, Nell? You saucy minx,” she muttered, her reflection smirking back.
Back in the pub, the crowd from White Lightning Communications had thinned out. Marcus’s kitty had run dry, and most of the team had vanished, unwilling to part with their own cash for colleagues. Jamie remained, now flanked by John and Abigail, two of the company’s other designers. He was mid-story, gesturing animatedly as he poured more Cava into their glasses.
Nell froze in the doorway, narrowing her eyes. Was he telling tales about her? Jamie’s charm was undeniable but trusting him was another matter entirely.
“Nell, dear lady!” he called out as soon as he spotted her. His voice boomed across the room, and she cringed. “We’ve hit upon a brilliant idea. I propose we depart this charming establishment and make our way, forthwith, to an eatery. What say you?”
His dramatic delivery turned heads, including the landlord’s, who was glaring daggers at Jamie. The Joker sold food, after all.
Oblivious, Jamie stood and grabbed John and Abigail by the hands, pulling them along as he strode toward Nell.
Outside, the fresh air hit like a brick wall, jolting the lot of them into sobriety. John and Abigail exchanged sheepish glances before muttering excuses about early mornings and heading off.
“Good riddance!” Jamie declared as he watched them retreat. “That was the right outcome, was it not, dear lady?”
He turned to Nell with a wolfish grin, his eyes bright and glittering as they locked onto hers.
“Shall we?” he asked, offering his arm with a flourish.
She took it, grateful for the support—her legs felt decidedly unsteady from all the Cava.
Jamie steered them toward the Italian restaurant a few doors down, effortlessly brushing aside Nell’s half-hearted protests.
“I’m not even that hungry,” she began, “and I don’t have enough—”
“On me, sweet Nell!” he interrupted, grinning. “I’m about to be rich.”
There was no arguing with Jamie when he was in this mood, and Nell wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to.
The moment she stepped inside Bella Momma, Nell regretted it. The restaurant was suffocatingly warm, the air thick with the overpowering smell of Parmesan and garlic. Small tables were crammed together, barely leaving space to move, and the noise was a cacophony of chatter from couples and family groups, drowning out the tinny Italian muzak playing overhead.
A frazzled waiter bustled over, informing them it would be at least half an hour before a table was available. He pointed toward three battered chairs near the front and offered to bring them drinks while they waited.
Nell shook her head quickly. “I can’t drink anything else.”
“Nonsense,” Jamie interrupted, ordering a bottle of red wine before she could object further.
When the wine arrived, Jamie raised his glass, smiling broadly. “To the loveliest employee at White Lightning Communications. Cheers, dear Nell!”
She wrinkled her nose, took a tentative sip, and set her glass on the nearby window ledge. “Smoothie,” she said.
“Tis true! You are a shining beacon among employees,” Jamie insisted, topping up his glass. “In fact, if a designer vacancy opens up at my new place, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Nell raised an eyebrow. “Don’t they have to follow proper processes for public sector jobs?”
He waved dismissively, flicking his hand upward. “Pah! We’ll see.”
He drained his glass and reached for the bottle. “Another?”
Nell shook her head firmly. “Actually, I’m boiling in here. I don’t want to wait half an hour. Can we go?”
“Of course,” Jamie said easily. He stood, handed the bartender some money, and corked the wine. They stepped outside, and Nell immediately tipped her head back, breathing in the cool night air. She pulled her neckline forward, letting the breeze hit her overheated skin.
