Page 68 of Pit

“Bullshit. It’s your second full week and you’ve done amazing. You refused to let me celebrate last Friday, so we’re doing this.” She grabs my hand, and I snatch my bag from the floor. “And you look amazing in that dress, it’s a shame not to show it off.”

I straighten the tight, fitted dress I got in a sale last weekend with my first pay cheque. I also managed to get some office wear from a charity shop which saved me looking unprofessional this week. “Bars make me nervous,” I add as she drags me towards the door.

“I’ll look after you.”

“And men make me uncomfortable.”

She pauses and glances back at me. “Oh shit, Te, are you a lesbian? I didn’t realise.”

“No,” I rush to say.

“It’s fine, I’m not against it or anything,” she tells me, locking up the office.

“I’m not a lesbian,” I argue, and a passing couple snigger. I feel my face burning with embarrassment as Anita hooks her arm through mine.

“Look, Te, I’ve spent a fortnight analysing you and it doesn’t take a genius to see that social situations make you uncomfortable. But I promise to break you in gently. I won’t leave your side, and if you hate it after twenty minutes, you can leave.” I groan out loud, and she smirks. “Thanks.”

She leads me to a bar a few doors down from the office, telling me lots of office types drink here on a Friday. It’s not too busy, which makes me relax slightly, and Anita orders us each a drink, taking the pressure off me to choose, because I have no idea what tastes good when it comes to cocktails.

We take fruity-looking red drinks over to a table by the window, and she eases from her jacket and hangs it on the back of her chair. “So, how was your second week?”

“Good,” I reply, nodding. I love working with her—she’s lively and funny, and she doesn’t make me feel different. “I’m really enjoying it.”

“I know I’ve said it a million times already, but I don’t know what I did without you. Your filing system is perfect. I can find every file.”

“It’s a standard system,” I say with a laugh. “Your desk pile wasn’t.”

She laughs too. “You’re right. I have zero organisational skills.” I take a sip from the drink, and when my eyes light up, she grins. “Good, right?”

“This is amazing,” I whisper, taking another sip.

“You deserve it after all your hard work.” She leans a little closer. “So, Tessa, spill . . . are you married, single, or other?”

“Well, I’d like to repeat I am not a lesbian.” She laughs harder. “But I am single. Very much single.”

“Me too.”

“What about the guy who keeps ringing . . . Atlas?”

“God, no, we’re just sleeping together.” I almost choke on the drink and grab a napkin to wipe my chin. “He’s . . . how do I put it? Possessive . . . angry . . . annoying.”

“So, why are you sleeping with him?”

“Because the guy is a genius in the bedroom.” We both giggle like teenagers, and I drink some more. A waiter passes, and Anita orders another round. “Have you ever met a guy who makes you light up in the bedroom and knows exactly what to do?” she asks, fanning her face with a beer mat.

I picture Pit and smile. “Yeah.”

“Now, that is a look of love,” she comments, arching a brow.

I shake my head. “Nothing like that. It was a short fling . . . I think. Anyway, he’s gone, so it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You miss him,” she guesses.

“He doesn’t miss me, and that’s what really matters.”

“Well, it’s his loss,” she says, clinking her glass against mine, and we finish off the cocktails just as new ones are placed down.

I’m not sure what number cocktail we’re on anymore, but my head is fuzzy and I’m suddenly extremely tired. I rest my head against the cubicle wall while I pee. I close my eyes and think about Pit again. Why the hell can’t I get him out of my head?

---