Page 81 of I Knew You Were Trouble

He sniggers and, feeling foolish, I join in.

‘No,’ he says. ‘I’m here for work. I’m meeting a prospective client later this afternoon and I thought you might be free for lunch.’

‘And you know where I work because you have a full dossier on me,’ I say, arching my brows at him.

‘I wouldn’t saydossier.’ He brings his thumb and forefinger together. ‘It’s more of a thin file.’

I lift one corner of my mouth, giving him a tight smile. ‘Nice distinction.’

He tips his head, then smiles. ‘So, can I take you to lunch or are you busy?’

‘I have ninety minutes until my next meeting,’ I say, standing.

‘Good,’ he replies succinctly.

He stands and repositions the chair so that it lines up with the one next to it. I’ve seen him do this before – aligning objects so the edges or angles match up. He catches me watching him and seems embarrassed.

‘But not Italian,’ I say cheerfully to take the focus off him. ‘Verona has ruined me for eating Italian food anywhere outside of Italy.’

He chuckles at that, the tension in his face disappearing. ‘There’s a good sushi place close by – how does that sound?’

‘It sounds great – lead the way.’ I gesture towards the door, but I should know by now that Willem will insist I go first, and he does.

I head out into the hallway, Willem following, and when we emerge into the airy lobby, both receptionists look over, then whisper amongst themselves.

They probably think this is Jon. It’s a jarring thought and I’ll be sure to correct them when I return.

* * *

‘It smells delicious in here,’ I say. ‘Like puffed rice and teriyaki sauce.’

Willem sniffs the air. ‘The puffed rice smell is genmaicha tea. We’ll have to order some.’

We’re in a hole-in-the-wall sushi restaurant in Soho, seated at a tiny table on short wooden stools. While my knees are tucked under the table –barely– Willem’s are practically under his armpits. I press my lips together to suppress a smile. The waiter brings us menus and water, then disappears, and I sneak a furtive glance at Willem as he takes a sip of water, his eyes scanning the menu. Unable to hold it in any longer, I snigger and he looks up, a quizzical expression crossing his face.

‘Sorry, but are you comfortable like that? We can go someplace else.’

‘I’m fine,’ he says with a reassuring wave of his hand. ‘Their sushi is worth it, trust me.’

Two more people enter and now the restaurant is full. I look over my shoulder and people are starting to queue up outside.

The waiter reappears, seemingly impatient to take our order, but we’ve only just got here and I haven’t even looked at the menu yet.

‘You must know what’s good here,’ I say to Willem. ‘Why don’t you order for both of us?’

‘Sure,’ he says with a smile. He quickly rattles off the names of four sushi rolls and adds a pot of genmaicha tea to the order.

‘How is it you’re so familiar with London?’ I ask when the waiter leaves. ‘I would never have found this place on my own.’

‘My business partner is from here.’

‘I didn’t realise you had a business partner.’

‘Probably because I never mentioned it.’

‘Well, obvs,’ I tease. ‘So, who is he? Or she? Or they?’

‘Heis Max. We studied at the University of Twente together, became good friends… And after university, both of us worked in large corporations for a while – him here and me in the Netherlands – and when we both got tired of the limitations, the corporatebullshit, we decided to work together.’

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