Page 36 of Sparring Partners
Silence fell over the assembly as Joss recorded his nan’s offer in the minutes. Adrian cast a quick glance around the table; everybody was taking an all-consuming interest in their fingernails.
As the meeting finally concluded, Joss, slipping his laptop into its bag, spoke up.
“I hope you can all join me and Oliver for a drink in the pub — it’s another nail in the poor old boy’s coffin.”
Everybody laughed, including Oliver, who tried and failed to look mortified. They were a smaller group than before, with no Beryl. And no Jonathan. As everybody headed for the door, Adrian hung back.
Cancel the date, say it’s not a good idea, he’ll be relieved, he’ll understand?—
“Did you get back okay? The other morning, I mean.” Christ… these were not the words he’d meant to say.
Luca fished his keys out of his jacket pocket. Car keys. So Luca was heading straight back, not joining the rest of them for a drink. The twist in the pit of his stomach really wasn’t disappointment.
“Yes, I did. Thanks.” Red flooded Luca’s face, and he looked away as he thrust his fingers through his hair, messing up its pristine grooming.
The memory of Luca, messed up and undone, burst behind Adrian’s eyes. He ran a hand down his face. It didn’t matter how much and how often he told himself he didn’t want to get involved with this man, a laughing voice whispered in his ear and called him a liar.
“I’m going to head back to the hotel.”
“Luca. I’m sorry for not calling?—”
“Good night, Adrian.”
“Wait. I mean it. It’s just that, the more I thought about it, the less sure I was… Oh, fuck it. Please, come across to the pub with me.” The words he hadn’t meant to say burst from him, stopping Luca in mid turn.
“Adrian. You don’t need to explain. To be honest, I think it’s best you didn’t call, and probably best I don’t accompany you this evening,” he said quietly.
“Hey, you two.” They both jumped apart — how had they got so close? — as Declan grinned at them. “Get yourselves over to the pub and we’ll see you there. We’re locking up now.”
Adrian followed Luca outside. They were alone on the harbour front. Adrian rubbed the back of his neck, as awkward and stiff as a clueless teen. He nodded over towards the pub, warm and inviting looking. “Are you sure you won’t come across? Because I’d like you to.”
Luca jangled his car keys, the metallic sound loud in the quiet of evening as he looked at the pub. “What happened between us, and then the suggestion?—”
“That we get together?”When I asked you for a date.
“Yes, that.” Luca swung around, his eyes meeting Adrian’s. He looked sure and confident, but the hard swallow and the bob of his Adam’s apple told a different story. “It was all in the heat of the moment. I understand that, but I honestly don’t think it’s a wise move to go beyond what happened.”
Adrian bridged the small distance between them. All the words he meant to say, should say, could still say, drifted away on the breeze.
“Why not?”
In the gathering gloom of evening, Luca’s eyes shone dark; the pupils blown, their blue was nothing more than the thinnest rim of colour.
“Because we have a professional relationship. Adrian, please.” Luca looked down, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his cool professional manner deserting him.
“You’re right, it isn’t wise. Maybe there are even rules in your employee handbook about not fraternising with fruit and veg suppliers. But it doesn’t stop me wanting to see you again, even if it’s just for birthday cake in the pub.”
Luca’s lips twitched into an almost smile. “I honestly do need to get back, but…” Luca glanced towards the pub again, and Adrian grabbed the advantage of Luca’s wavering resolve.
He leant forward. “I hear it’s chocolate.”
Luca laughed, the sound light, rupturing the bubble of awkwardness they’d found themselves in. Adrian was helpless to stop his own smile.
“Well, in that case, how can I refuse?”
Inside The Fisherman’s Arms, the committee attendees, and a small handful of others, were gathered around three or four pulled together tables in the corner, Oliver and Joss taking centre stage.
Ryan made his way over with a tray crowded with filled glasses. “Get yourselves a drink.” He nodded towards the bar. “The first round’s on the house.”
