Page 25 of Commitment Issues
“Sure, I’d better go.” I push myself up from the table. “Thanks for today, and everything.”For spending a fortune on me, on clothes I’d never be able to afford in a month of Sundays.
“It’s been a pleasure. I’ve enjoyed it, all of it. I really have.”
“Me too,” I mumble, as I shuffle from foot to foot.
“I’ll text you the details — I’ll book a cab to take us to the airport, and I’ll let you know times and so on.”
“Sure. EasyJet, I guess, from Luton?” Luton to Marseilles, I’ve done that route two or three times.
He looks at me, at a loss for a second, as though he’s not sure what I’ve said to him.
“No, not Luton. We’re going from Heathrow. BA, Business Class.”
Oh fuck. Business Class… not a budget airline that specialises in a particularly nasty shade of orange. Why would I even consider that a man like Elliot Hendricks would fly…?
“Erm…”
Elliot’s phone bleeps a second time. Reminder number two for him, and the signal for me to get the hell out before I make an even bigger fool of myself.
“Sorry, I really have to…” he holds his mobile up, his smile apologetic.
Seconds later, I’m gone, face throbbing with heat, leaving Elliot to take his call and to no doubt wonder what he’s got himself in to.
