Page 62 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

‘It’s all right. I have some work I should do anyway.’ Pasta arrabbiata for one, and a head-start on tomorrow’s work. Is that really such a bad way to spend my evening?

‘You do? Oh, that’s great. I mean – you know what I mean.’

Well, right now it feels as if she means that it’s great that we both work twenty-four hours a day because then we never have to put the effort into anything else but I’m probably being churlish now.

‘I’ll make it up to you,’ she insists.

‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘Did you manage to arrange a meeting with your contact at Perfect Pies?’

‘No need as it turns out.’ I push down the added disappointment. ‘They’ve already signed with The Triple A Agency.’

‘That was fast.’

I really don’t want to focus on it, given that The Triple A Agency is our biggest competition. There’ll be other contracts. Ones I’ll make sure I don’t let slip through my fingers. It’s what I promised myself when the reality there was no way of turning it around finally sunk in.

‘George, it’s their loss,’ she gently tells me.

‘It really is. But not to worry. Plenty of other accounts—’ I break off as I notice Tim hovering in the doorway.

‘And I’m hoping to bring in another,’ he says, obviously overhearing what I’d been saying. ‘Wanted to run my initial thoughts by you.’

Why is he looking at Anya, instead of me? But even though the last thing I bloody want is to have a meeting with Tim bloody Duggins, I did send out the team-building email this afternoon.

‘Sure Tim,’ I say, injecting as much positivity as I can into my voice, ‘come on in and we’ll go through what you have.’

‘Great,’ says Anya, looking super relieved she can shoot off to her meeting. ‘So,’ she whispers, catching my eye over Tim’s head as he pulls out a chair and sits himself down like he’s settling in for the duration. ‘We’re good?’

‘We’re good,’ I say with a nod and then with a glance to Tim who I now notice is craning his neck to get another look at her, I shoot out from behind my desk, reach her in two strides and with a ‘There’s just one more thing,’ I do something that I don’t care is verboten in the office… I wrap my arms around her and kiss her.

Thoroughly.

The gladiator in me beats my chest happily as she softens against me and then kisses me back enthusiastically.

‘Stop by after your meeting,’ I then softly say although not so softly Tim couldn’t hear. ‘I don’t care what time it is.’

She nods and with one last adoring look leaves the office.

At least, that’s what happens in my head. Obviously in reality, I don’t plant one on her in a blatant attempt to shove our relationship firmly in the face of a member of my staff. In a relationship or not, there are office rules against that sort of thing.

Chapter Eighteen

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

George

It’s no good.

Uttering an eye-staggeringly, jaw-droppingly impressive amount of swear words that only serve to wake me up further, I throw back the covers and stumble in the darkness, out of my bedroom.

Sleep is impossible.

Trust me, I even tried that marine tip about pretending I was either floating in the ocean staring up at a blue sky, or imagining being cradled in a velvet hammock.

Neither work.

Nothing works.

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