Page 91 of The Wedding Pact
‘Yes, I really thought 10 p.m. seemed a long way off when we spoke earlier, but I’ve been lumped with a huge stack of case files for something high-profile going to court next week. Because of the skeleton staff covering the office between Christmas and New Year, there’s nobody else here. Then I realised there was something I hadn’t thought to check for and have had to go back over everything I’ve been doing today.’
‘That’s enough,’ she interrupted him.
‘I have to do it, August.’
Gentler this time, she pressed, ‘Flynn, that’s enough. I’m outside.’
Chapter 65
Flynn
Flynn, two floors up, looked through the window to see August standing on the street outside his office. Into the phone he said, ‘What are you doing here? You should be in the pub with your friends.’
‘You’re my friend too, and if you can’t make it to the pub, I’ve brought the pub to you.’ She held up two bottles of Budweiser she’d carried with her. ‘It’s New Year’s Eve, are you going to let me in?’ He saw her surveying the front of the office, with its shutter down. ‘Because if you’re not … I do know how to pick locks and I think I can get in here.’
He laughed. ‘Of course you do. I’d better let you up, hadn’t I?’
‘Yep.’
A moment later, Flynn reached the side door, meeting her eye through the glass, unlocking the various bolts and keys. He opened the door and there she was, in pink sequins and a gold headband emblazoned with the wordsHappy New Year!!!!Her eyes were pink and blue glitter, her shoes turquoise ankle boots. Against the backdrop of the dark night and damp street, she was like a bunch of flowers.
‘Happy New Year!’ she cried, handing a bottle to Flynn and shoving past him through the door. She stopped mid-stride, freezing on the spot and asking, ‘I’m not going to set off a security alarm or anything, am I?’
‘No,’ he laughed. ‘Want to see my desk?’
‘I want to see all of it,’ August answered, wandering on ahead of him, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the rest of the open plan office. That is, until she banged against a table and nearly bent double, narrowly avoiding smacking her nose.
Flynn reached for her hand, which was both so familiar to him now but also felt unnatural in his, thanks to their shift at the Christmas party. He led her through the building towards his desk, where his lamp illuminated a great pile of papers and notes, Post-its scattered and highlighter pens with missing lids. ‘Happy New Year,’ he finally replied. ‘Are you sure you want to be here?’
August handed him a beer. ‘Of course I don’t, but I also don’t want you to be here. Can’t you forget about it tonight and put in a couple of hours tomorrow?’
‘I don’t know, the thought of having to come back to it again tomorrow … ’ he sunk his chin onto his hand and tipped the beer into his mouth. He knew he looked as glum as Eeyore. Flynn then turned his eyes towards August, cracking a smile, and said, ‘Jesus, I bet you’re glad you left the party to come here!’
‘I am!’ August declared. ‘Where else would I rather be, bedazzled up to the eyeballs in the pinkest, most sequinned dress Bath has ever seen?’
‘You’re right,’ Flynn stood up. ‘It’s New Year’s Eve … It’s New Year’s Eve, for another—’ he checked his watch. ‘—Fifteen minutes! Can you give me five minutes to pack my stuff and lock up?’
‘To go where?’
‘Back to the pub?’
‘We’d be pushing it,’ August admitted. ‘And it’s so crowded in there that come midnight we’d be fighting our way to try and make it back to Bel and the crowd.’
‘Ah, August, I’m sorry. Is there somewhere nearer we could go?’
August fiddled with her phone for a moment, and all of a sudden Prince’s ‘1999’ burst into their atmosphere. She put the volume on full and used the last of her raspy voice to call loudly to Flynn, ‘We can go right here.’
Grabbing her beer with one hand, and Flynn’s shirt sleeve with the other, she pulled him up out of his chair and danced with him through his deserted office, her dress twinkling in the near dark as it reflected the bulb from his lamp.
Flynn was an awkward dancer next to August, his inhibitions a stark contrast against her abandon. And although he presumed she’d had a few drinks, and good for her if she had, it wasn’t like that was her catalyst. This – this dancing, sparkling, colourful, laughing, zany woman who could act off the cuff or think things through long and hard – this was August. And he liked her, oh, a lot more than he should.
‘Come on, we don’t have time for self-consciousness, we have ten minutes to fit a whole night out into, and I didn’t bring any extra beer, so you’re just going to have to get into it.’ August reached up and put her headband onto his head, smiling up at the result.
‘It’s okay for you, you’re an actress, you’re a lot more able to get into character than I am. My brain is still on data and evidence.’
She put a finger up to his lips and untucked his shirt from his trousers, her fingers grazing his stomach for a millisecond causing him to suck in his breath. ‘Excuse me,’ she purred over the music. ‘I know your secret now.’
‘You do?’ he stopped dancing, his eyes fixing into hers for a moment.
