Page 119 of The One That I Want

Although, Anjali is Poppy’s real client in this case, so maybe her loyalties are to Anjali, despite everything’s she’s told me about being her top priority.

I feel like I’m going to be ill. I spy a bin next to Anjali’s desk and wonder if I’ll be able to reach it in time. And now she’s chuckling!Whatis going on?

‘Soz, I shouldn’t laugh, Greta, but your face right now. Oh, I’m being wicked, aren’t I?’

Yes! She is! Give her a hooked nose and paint her green and she’d be Elphaba.

‘You want to know how I know about him, the bloke from the coffee shop?’ she asks, waggling her eyebrows at me.

I swallow the enormous lump lodged in my throat. ‘Sure,’ I say, my voice scratchy and tight.

‘I saw you together – on Tuesday night.’

Well,that’snot what I expected.

Then the full force of what she said starts to land. Tuesday night I was at the London Eye with Ewan – where we had our first kiss – a passionate, not-suitable-for-work kiss. Oh my god! Did Anjali see me kissing Ewan after the London Eye? My jaw drops in horror, and I may actually be the first person to die from embarrassment. At the very least, I’m about to vomit all over Anjali’s lovely office.

I only came in to ask if she wanted a sodding coffee!

‘Er…’ I clear my throat. ‘So, where did you see us exactly?’ I ask, braving the possibility of an evenmoremortifying revelation.

‘Gordon and I were at The Archduke – for dinner. It’s one of our haunts.’

‘OOOHHH!’ It’s comical how long I draw out that sound, making Anjali laugh again.

‘What did you think I was talking about? Never mind – I probably don’t want to know, do I?’

‘Definitely not,’ I reply succinctly, recovering from the single most horrifying moment of my life in record time.

‘Anyway… two plus two and all that… I only realised after you’d gone that he was the bloke from the coffee shop.’

‘Ewan.’

She snaps her fingers and points at me. ‘That’s right.’ Then she tuts at herself. ‘As if you’d get that wrong – soz. So, he’s the mystery man you’re dating?’

I nod, realising that Poppydidn’tbetray my trust, after all.

‘Well, bravo, Greta Davies!’

With part-relief and part-pride, I grin and somewhere in the back of my mind, I recognise the multitude of twists and turns that this (bizarre) conversation has taken. In the entire time I’ve known Anjali, this is the most personal conversation we’ve ever had – and that includes the one in which I confessed how much I wanted to fall in love and start a family.

‘Honestly, I’m thrilled for you,’ she continues. ‘And he’s a good bloke? Not like any of those…’ She struggles to find the word. ‘Thosemenyou dated for the articles?’

‘He’s lovely. It’s early days, of course, but…’

‘No, no, I understand. But you let me know when it’s not-so-early days. As I said, The Archduke is a favourite haunt of ours, and we could all go for dinner sometime.’

I’m taking this offer with a grain of salt. Anjali’s still my boss and going on a double date with her and Gordon… It’s hard to imagine.

‘Right, so I should probably…’ She gestures towards her laptop, meaning she should get back to work, and I pop out of my seat, grateful to be excused.

‘Of course. And where did we land on coffee?’ I ask. ‘Yea or nay?’

‘Oh, definitely yea. And one of those fancy croissant/doughnut thingamajigs, if you don’t mind.’

‘Cronuts.’

‘Is that what they’re called?’

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