Page 131 of Falling for You
I follow him as he wanders through the office, presumably towards the kitchen.
‘That’s Kat,’ Brian says, flicking his wrist towards a girl sitting behind a computer who nods at me, ‘accounts; Fernanda,’ another woman nods, ‘IT. Paul, Simon, Gary, Greg, socials,’ a set of men raise their eyebrows at me one by one, like meerkats popping up over the parapet.
‘Helen is HR but she’s not in yet aaaaaaaaaaand …’ he spins on his heel to face me and I stop walking to avoid crashing into him, ‘the lazy writers usually work from home,’ hegives me a knowing look and then laughs, ‘but you’ll meet them soon. Kayleigh, Scott and Jen.’
I nod, realising I’ve had the same grin pinned on my face since I stepped out of the elevator. I relax.
‘Right,’ I say. ‘Great to meet you all.’ I offer my hand in a wave around the office. They all lift their heads in recognition and bob them back down, hiding behind their monitors. And plants.
‘How’s the jet lag?’ Brian asks, flicking the kettle on.
‘Yeah, all good … I’ve been here five days, so I think I’ve gotten over the worst of it.’
Brian laughs. ‘I hear you. I visited the Singapore office at the start of the year, it fucked me for days. But how is New York? I don’t know if we have quite the nightlife to compare, especially the events we get invited to.’ He leans back on the counter as the kettle sputters behind him. ‘But we still have some good ones. Do you like Cirque du Soleil?’
I tuck my hands in my pockets. ‘Sure. I could cover that.’
Brian pushes his lips together and shakes his head. ‘No, you can’t. Unless you want to fight Scott for it. He gets those tickets every year.’
He gives me a look like he’s speaking in a language that only he and I understand.
‘Right.’
‘But there are some other great things you can go to,’ he says. ‘We have some fantastic pantomimes if you’re still here at Christmas. Have you been to a panto before?’
‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Oh no he hasn’t!’
I stare at him, bewildered. ‘Sorry?’
He throws his head back and laughs, dropping a teabag into each mug. ‘I’m joking with you. Are you a sports guy? Sorry, can I just …’ He goes to open the fridge and I move out of the way awkwardly.
‘Ah yes,’ I say, finally feeling myself relax a little. ‘I’m actually getting into football.’
Brian raises his eyebrows at me, clearly impressed. ‘Oh yeah? What team?’
Finally. Something I can talk about. I lift my chin proudly. ‘Chelsea.’
Brian’s face drops. ‘Seriously?’
I stare at him, waiting for him to burst out laughing as part of another weird joke I don’t understand. But he keeps staring at me as though I’ve admitted to stabbing my grandmother over breakfast.
‘Yeah?’ I say.
To my alarm, Brian rolls his eyes, sloshing milk into both mugs.
‘Ah. We’re all Tottenham,’ he says, shaking his head and giving a chuckle. ‘That really is bad luck. Don’t let the team hear you say that. They won’t let you live it down.’
I blink at him.
‘Right,’ I say eventually. ‘Well, I’m sure I could be a Tottenham fan too …’
‘Definitely don’t let the team hear you saythat.’ He laughs, jostling my shoulder, and I try to laugh along.
‘There’s your tea,’ he says, picking up his mug andhanding me mine. I take it and automatically take a giant sip, forgetting for a moment that it isn’t coffee, and feel my face contort.
Oh God, that is absolutely –
