Page 88 of Is She Really Going Out with Him?
If Will asked to meet up outside of work, I would, in a heartbeat, but I don’t want to be the one to propose it. I don’t want him to think I’m getting attached, that I need this to be morethan it is. I don’t. He’s like a drug I am getting high on, and as long as I don’t get addicted, as long as I keep it recreational, then I will be fine.
—
On Wednesday I’mtalking to Malik in accounts. My paycheck hasn’t cleared yet this month and I need him to check there’s not a problem.
“Let me just log in to the online banking system,” Malik says. Standing behind him as he taps away, I notice Will is back at his desk after a meeting. My eyes dart across to my computer. From here, I can see my screen—I have a new e-mail. It could be from anyone. It might not even be from him. It’s probably just a mailing list I subscribed to. It could be 10 percent off at Boden. It’s always 10 percent off at Boden. My fingers dance with the urge to go back and check. My computer screen blinks onto the screensaver, so I can’t see the e-mail page anymore.
“Here it is,” says Malik. “Right, let me see—”
“Sorry, we’ll have to do this later,” I say, already striding away. “Something urgent just came up.”
Google searches:
How do you stop obsessing over someone?
Best bum tightening cream
Discount code for Brazilian Bum Bum Cream
Can people ever find your search history even if you erase it?
Chapter 29
On Thursday morning, on myway into work, I see Will pacing in the street. He’s talking on the phone, gesticulating wildly. He looks annoyed. All I hear is him saying, “No, I need to do it, they’re counting on me.” I don’t linger as I don’t want him to think I am eavesdropping. Was that about the job? Maybe he didn’t get it. Part of me hopes he didn’t, but then I feel guilty, for putting my desire over his ambition.
When he finally comes in and sits at his desk, he doesn’t e-mail about the archive all morning. I’m busy working on a story so I’m happy to wait him out. Then, at midday, while I’m making coffee in the shared kitchen, I turn to find him standing in the doorway. He rarely comes in here, equipped as he is with his own thermos of gourmet coffee.
“Hey,” he says, shifting his weight awkwardly, clearing his throat. Today, I see none of the confidence or command he conveys upstairs.
“Hey,” I reply, self-conscious. I stir milk into my coffee just to give my hands something to do. Will hovers by the door. I hear him tap his foot against the sideboard.
“TheTimesis pushing our piece back to later in the summer, so we don’t need to submit a draft until next month now,” he says.
“Good, it might take me that long to work out what to write,” I say, giving him a lopsided smile. He shoots me one right back.
“I also have a favor I need to ask,” he says.
“Oh?”
“I’m involved with this inclusive choir. It’s a charity, I’m on the board with Loretta.” I nod, remembering he mentioned it when we ran into them. “It’s a huge part of Simon’s life. They’re having funding issues, they might lose access to the space where they rehearse. If he lost the choir…”
“How can I help?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee and realizing this is the first non-work-related, fully clothed conversation we’ve had since the bus stop.
“The choir is singing at the abbey tonight. I said I would film it, shoot some interviews, edit it together to make a fundraising video. It’s a simple job, but my cameraman is now stuck in Birmingham.” He pauses, looking at me guiltily. “I’ve rented a decent camera, I just need someone who knows how to use it. I was remembering…you did a news journalism degree, so maybe you do?”
“Yes, but I’m rusty, I haven’t shot anything for years,” I say, but pivot as his face falls. “But I’m sure it’s just like riding a bike. If you need me, I’ll be there.”
“I wouldn’t ask, sorry. I know you’re busy, I just can’t let Simon down, not right now.”
“It’s fine. Just tell me where to be and when.” I turn my back on him to put the milk back in the fridge, and when I turn around, he’s taken a few steps toward me.
“Anna.” His eyes hold mine. I stand still, watching his face, trying to read his mind while he tries to read mine. He closes the space between us and tentatively reaches for my face. The tip of his finger grazes my chin before a voice behind him fractures themoment. Karl and Steph have come into the kitchen, chatting noisily, and Will moves his hand away, gives me a curt nod, and leaves the room. Turning around to face the fridge, I press my tingling palms against the door.
Back at my desk, I find I have two missed calls from Dan. I call him back, worried something might be wrong.
“Hey,” he says, “I’m near your office. Free for a coffee? I need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure, I can nip out. Is everything okay?” I ask.
