Page 11 of Out of the Shadows
DANIEL
The pub around the corner is busy, full of the after work crowd which seems to include most of Cleaver Jackson.
“Happy birthday.” I hand Fiona her drink.
“Thank you for coming, I’m so glad you could make it.”
It was impossible to say no. The cards festooning her desk, the box of donuts in the office… and Cosmo, sucking his fingers, his lips wet and smeared with sticky custard, and his big green eyes wide with shock when they snapped open and stared into my own. I shove my fingers through my hair, and take a mouthful rather than a sip of my drink, my eyes watering as it burns its way down my throat.
Fiona’s talking, I’m not sure what about, but whatever the subject it doesn’t seem to require much of an answer from me as she smiles, her drink in one hand as with the other she twirls her long hair around her fingers with the other. It’s a bloody annoying habit and I have to resist the urge to tug her hand away. Thank god Geraldine has always worn her hair short, because that alone would have been grounds for our abandoned engagement.
I suppress a sigh. Fiona’s all but fluttering her eyelashes at me and in the crowded pub she edges a little closer. I instinctively edge back but find myself propped up against the bar. In the short time I’ve come to know Fiona, I’ve also come to like her. She’s bright and a talent to be nurtured, but my interest in her is purely professional. She’s attractive, very attractive, but it leaves me cold.
One drink and I’ll be off.
“Daniel, I wanted to ask—”
It’s as far as she gets as a big, booming voice captures her attention. A second later she’s enveloped in an all enveloping hug and is lifted off her feet by a bear of a man. I take it as my cue to make a quick escape. Abandoning my glass on the bar, I turn to leave — and go smack into Cosmo.
He’s holding a pint, or what’s left of it, because most of it’s now drenching the front of his suit.
“Oi, Tony,” he calls out to the barman, swinging away from me. “Give me a wet cloth, will you? I’ve got it all down my front.”
“Yeah? And not for the first time.” Tony throws Cosmo a wink and throws a bar towel to him. “There you go, babe, although I reckon you’ll need to get your suit dry-cleaned. But knowing you, it’s had worse stains on it.” Tony turns away, laughing as he does so, to serve some customers who’ve just arrived.
“I’m sorry. Least I can do is buy you another drink and of course take care of any dry-cleaning bill.”
Cosmo’s put what’s left of his drink on the bar and concentrates on wiping down the mess.
“Don’t worry about the drink. I’m only here because Fiona strong-armed me. After this one, or what’s left of it, I’m going.”
“But let me know what the dry-cleaning bill is and I’ll settle it. It’s my fault after all.”
He shakes his head. “No, I’d already planned on taking it to the cleaner’s.”
He throws the towel on the bar and retrieves his drink, taking a sip as he pays no attention to me. There’s no more to be said, and I should go, but for some reason I don’t. I shift my brief case into my other hand.
Cosmo glances up at me, the questioning arch of a brow almost indiscernible. Almost, but not quite. I feel I should say something to break the odd silence that’s somehow wrapped itself around us in the busy, noisy pub. It’s as though Cosmo and I have formed a little island by the bar. A little silent island. It makes me feel awkward when awkwardness is not something I’m generally on first name terms with. I clear my throat.
“Thank you for your report and for answering the queries. I’ll ensure the other board members are made aware of your contribution.”
His gaze, which has been everywhere but on me, flickers up and catches my eye. There’s a spark of surprise in their green depths. He answers with a brief nod but doesn’t say anything. Christ, does he think I’d steal his thunder, or take credit for the work he’s done? I’d never do that, and it irritates me he should think it.
“I believe in giving credit where it’s due,” I snap.
“Just doing my job.” He shrugs. “Excuse me.” He turns away, brusque and sudden, and shoulders his way through the crowd. I follow him with my eyes.
He’s making his way towards a couple of guys who have just walked in. Without any preamble, Cosmo wraps himself around one of them, tilting his face up, his lips parting as the guy laughs before crushing his lips to Cosmo’s.
As much as I want to look away, I can’t.
Cosmo unwinds himself from the guy, who’s smiling down at him and brushing Cosmo’s hair from his face. Ropes of intimacy seem to bind them, as they smile and laugh and whisper into each other’s ear, all the time exchanging touches. The other guy has disappeared, leaving only the two of them, still laughing, still whispering, and kissing again.
And still I can’t tear my eyes away.
My mouth dries to sand, and warmth spreads out from the pit of my belly.
Oh Jesus…
