Page 32 of Falling for You
Pam lets out a slow whistle when she sees the picture. ‘Blimey.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘What happened when you opened the wings, then?’ she asks, pinching her fingers so she can zoom in. ‘I bet everyone was in bits.’
‘Well,’ I sigh, taking the phone off her. ‘Yes and no.’
‘Oh?’
‘I stabbed a guy when they opened.’
Pam snorts.
‘And ripped his shirt open.’
‘Crikey.’
‘And then got stuck to him for a good ninety seconds.’ Hmmm. Now I look at it like that, it’s no wonder he made a break for it.
Pam laughs a deep, gravelly laugh. ‘That’s one way to get them.’
‘Well,’ I say, feeling myself redden as I pick up my coffee. ‘He actually left not so long after that and we didn’t exchange numbers or anything, so …’
Pam looks at me expectantly. ‘But it doesn’t matter,’ I babble. ‘One of those things.’
‘Your costume looks great, though,’ she says and I smile.
‘Thanks. How was your Halloween? Did you get any trick or treaters?’
She frowns, taking a swig of her coffee. ‘Of course not. I closed the curtains and turned off all the lights.’
‘Pam!’ I laugh. ‘What about Rodney?’
Where Pam is round and hunched, Rodney is tall and lean and I don’t think I’ve heard him say more than eight words in the entire ten years I’ve worked here. But they always hold hands, and I occasionally catch them looking at each other in a way I’ve never seen Pam look at anyone else.
‘Oh, he doesn’t care,’ she waves a hand at me. ‘Now, how’s your diary looking today?’ She pulls her laptop lid back open. ‘Can you get over to Richmond this afternoon to look at a house? We have a family of five moving in eight weeks, the dad is coming next week to look at properties. Can I put you on it?’
I feel a little thrill. I’m always the first one that Pam asks for new clients, not that either of us would ever admit that.
‘Sure,’ I say. ‘Of course.’
‘Super.’
‘But Pam,’ I add sternly, as she begins to hunch back over her keyboard. ‘First, breakfast. I’m going to get you a bagel. And a chocolate muffin.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nate
I landed back in New York at around midnight. Well, actually, according to my crumbling body clock that had finally let go of the New York time zone and reluctantly adjusted to London time, it was about 4 a.m. So, when Dad got me back home and I crawled into bed in my childhood bedroom, I was wide awake. I stayed there for about an hour before I decided that being alone with my thoughts in the darkness was not the best way to spend the rest of my Saturday night. I went downstairs with the idea of making myself some hot milk, or whatever it is they do in films to help when the main character is wide awake in the middle of the night.
To my surprise, I found Dad sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, holding his head in his hands.
‘Dad?’
He almost jumped out of his skin at my voice and immediately sat up straight.
‘Christ, Nate,’ he said, laughing a little. ‘What are you doing awake at this time?’
