Page 49 of Is She Really Going Out with Him?
“I’ve heard Ryan Stirling is an arsehole,” Will says with a frown.
“Lucky I’m not looking to marry the guy then,” I say airily, peeved he isn’t more impressed by my celebrity date. “What’s the online equivalent of dating an A-lister?”
Will taps his fingers on my desk, his eyes serious, no hint of a smile. This is so strange; a few minutes ago we were flirting via text, now he’s all business.
“There’s this exclusive dating site supposedly used by celebrities and millionaires. If I could get access to that, it might mirror your angle.”
“That could work,” I say, impressed he came up with that on the spot.
“Membership is all through personal recommendations, so it’s a long shot,” Will explains. He glances down at my desk, and I realize my latest pay slip is sitting open right there. He frowns. “You need to ask for a pay rise, Appleby.”
I snatch it up and shove it into my drawer.Rude.Will looks at me now, and it might be the first time we’ve made real eye contact since the window in Hay. I can’t read him at all. He looks somber and sincere, but also like he’s trying to stop himself from undressing me with his eyes. Then, as if he knows what I think he’s thinking, his eyes dart away. “And tonight, I have a date with a forty-five-year-old marine engineer.”
“Ah, the ‘older woman,’ ” I say. “Poor you, how will you cope being in the vicinity of such decrepitude?”
“I’ll try to be strong. If you could send me some talking points for people of your generation, that would help.”
“Sure, I’ll e-mail you, is it still [email protected]?”
He grins as though he enjoys it when I’m mean to him. It definitely feels like we’re flirting again. But I need to knock this silly crush on the head. It’s taking up brain space I don’t have, and it can’t lead anywhere good. On the drive to Hay he basically admitted that’s he’s playing the field until he meets “the one.” I don’t think I could handle being toyed with, then discarded, especially by someone I have to work with.
I turn back to my computer and wave a hand in his direction, batting him away. As he leaves, he presses the lever on my chair so that my seat drops right down, and I find my chin level with the desk. Mature.
Google searches:
How to stop yourself from having a crush on someone
Men opening jars
Ryan Stirling opening jars
Paul Hollywood opening jars
*Erases search history*
Chapter 15
When I get home fromwork, I open the front door and see Katniss, curled into a strange position on the stairs. She doesn’t look normal, her body too rigid, too straight, too…I run forward to touch her, find her cold, and jump back. Oh God, she’s dead. A shiver goes through me. Poor Katniss. Sitting on the floor in the hall, I just stare at her familiar black-and-white fur. How many times has she curled onto my lap, the sound of her soft purr the backing track to my evening? I’m only grateful I didn’t walk through the door with Ethan. He will be devastated, as will Jess.
What am I supposed to do now? Do I take her to the vet? How do I get her there? Am I supposed to pick her up and carry her? The idea turns my stomach. Should I bury her in the garden? With my hand shaking, I google “What do I do with a dead cat?” just as my phone rings. It’s the office, probably Jonathan with notes on my Hay piece.
“Hello,” I say, my voice quiet.
“Where did you go? I wanted to talk to you.” It’s notJonathan, it’s Will. Without meaning to, I let out a small sob. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice immediately shifting to concern.
“My cat died. I just walked in the door and found her dead. I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I’m too upset to think about how weird it is that Will Havers is coming to my house to help me with my dead cat. All I can think about is how upset the children are going to be, how I don’t want them to see her. What if this was my fault? What if I left too much food out? Maybe Noah poisoned her in revenge for the hedge. No, that’s ridiculous, Noah loves animals. Katniss was quite old, maybe it was simply her time.
When Will arrives twenty minutes later I haven’t moved from the hall floor. I let him in and nod toward the rigid furry mass on the stairs. Wordlessly, Will ushers me through to the kitchen, makes me a cup of tea, starts opening cupboards until he finds an empty cardboard box, then disappears back into the hall.
“I’m sorry,” he says gently. “Shall I drive you to the vet? Or I can deal with it if you’d rather not go.”
With a nod, I stand up to get a coat. “Thank you, I’ll come.”
—
