Page 21 of The Love Hack

I glanced over my shoulder, wondering why Ross wasn’t here with the group, joining in the horror-tinged excitement that had livened up this otherwise ordinary morning. But I couldn’t see him.

Marco was leaning in towards his screen, as if by getting closer to it he’d have a better view. His hands were poised over his keyboard like a pianist about to embark on a particularly challenging concerto. Then all at once he relaxed, pulling off the headphones and leaning back in his chair.

‘It’s nothing,’ he said. ‘Some idiot left a pallet full of – get this – frozen vegan burgers on the station concourse, and a passer-by alerted the peelers. Stand down, team.’

‘Pity,’ Neil remarked. ‘I was hoping we might all have been sent home early.’

‘I was hoping thousands of deaths would be averted,’ Chiraag said. ‘Guess what I’d rather have happen?’

Relief-fuelled, good-natured bickering broke out, but I didn’t stick around to listen to it.

I got up and walked towards the kitchen, in the direction Ross had gone. But the kitchen was empty. The gents’ toilet was closed, of course – not that there was any way I’d have gone in there to look for him.

Then the lift doors swished open and he emerged. He wasn’t greenish-pale any more, but I could see beads of sweat on his forehead and his shoulders were hunched like it was freezing outside instead of a balmy twenty-two degrees.

‘Hey, Ross.’ I stepped up him, ‘Are you okay?’

‘Fine,’ he muttered. ‘Just went out to get some air. I felt a bit weird there for a bit. What’s – has Marco heard anything more?’

‘It’s all fine,’ I said gently. ‘False alarm. Absolutely nothing to worry about.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive.’ I told him about the vegan burgers and he smiled, colour returning to his face.

‘Guess I’d better get back to work, then.’

Together, we set off back towards our desks, but as we passed the kitchen I stopped.

‘Ross?’ Now I could feel colour in my own cheeks – too much of it. That all-too-familiar blush was doing its thing.

‘Yo.’ He looked at me, and I saw the same thing happening to him.

‘Fancy a coffee?’

He glanced at his watch. It was still only ten to twelve.

‘Don’t worry, you’re safe,’ I teased, remembering his strict watershed policy. ‘So long as you drink it fast.’

He smiled. ‘Thanks, Lucy. That would be great. Reckon my sleep is safe if I have it now.’

‘I’m on it,’ I promised, and hurried to the kitchen, feeling my burning face gradually return to normal. I made a flat white for myself and a double espresso for him and returned to our desks, carefully gripping the two white china mugs by their handles. I put mine down on my desk, then walked all the way round and placed his carefully in front of him.

‘Thanks, Lucy,’ he said again.

I wanted to ask him again if he was okay, to try and reassure him that whatever he’d thought was going to happen, hadn’t, and that everything was normal. But I sensed he wouldn’t want me to – that whatever impulse had made him get up and leave when he had would also make him reluctant to talk any more about it, to expose himself to the risk of too-edgy banter from the rest of the team.

So I began, ‘Do you?—’

At exactly the same time, he said, ‘So do you?—’

We both stopped, our words colliding in mid-air. I felt the blush threatening to overwhelm me again and saw the tips of his ears turn bright pink.

I waved my hand in a ‘carry on’ gesture, and he said, ‘Do you have anything nice planned for the weekend?’

‘Not much. Feels like I need a quiet one after my sister’s hen do.’

I noticed his ears turning pinker and looked away, hoping he’d recover.

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