‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ she asked Elliot. ‘I feel bad about leaving you.’
He sighed. ‘It’s a singles night, isn’t it? You’re supposed to go home with someone.’
‘I’m not going home with him.’
‘You might. Anything could happen.’
‘Nothing will happen! I’m not that kind of girl.’
Elliot shrugged. ‘It’s no business of mine if you are.’
‘Well, I’m not! I don’t do that kind of stuff on the first night.’
The right eyebrow went up. ‘Stuff?’
‘Oh shut up!’ God, he was so annoying!
‘Lizzy!’ Greg called. ‘They start charging after eleven to get in.’
‘Coming!’
They started walking off together. ‘You’re going to love this place, they do great cocktails,’ Greg told her.
‘Sounds great.’ Lizzy looked back over her shoulder. Elliot was trudging away in the drizzle with his hands in his pockets. He looked so dejected and …
alone.
And after that run-in with Marcus he must be feeling crappy. What was it about the miserable sod that pulled at her heartstrings?
She stopped suddenly. ‘You know what, I might go and find my friend after all.’
Greg’s face fell. ‘Really?’
‘He’s been through a bad break-up and I’m a bit worried about him. I’m really sorry, Greg.’
She started running back over the uneven cobbles. ‘Elliot!’
The third time she called his name he turned round. A look of astonishment crossed his face. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I changed my mind,’ she panted as she caught up with him.
Elliot’s brow furrowed confusedly. ‘I thought you were in there.’
‘He wasn’t really my type after all,’ Lizzy lied.
He gave her a look as if to say
girls.
‘Fancy another drink?’ she asked.
‘Are you hungry?’
Lizzy hadn’t eaten since lunch. ‘Starving.’
As if by magic, a cab was sailing towards them with the orange light on. Elliot stuck out his arm to flag it down. ‘Chinatown please,’ he told the driver.
The West End was jumping. Their taxi driver wove expertly through the packed streets and deposited them at the entrance to Chinatown.
‘The place doesn’t look much,’ Elliot said as they walked up to a modest restaurant, ‘but the food is spectacular.’
Judging by the owner’s rapturous welcome, Elliot was obviously a regular. The place was rammed, but after greeting Elliot like a long-lost son, the little man managed to find them a table next to the kitchen.
‘Where did you learn to speak Chinese?’ Lizzy asked in disbelief.
He tried to look modest and failed. ‘I just know a little bit.’
The kitchen was open, so they sat and watched the chefs hard at work amongst the sizzle and the steam. It was quite a show. Elliot ordered a bottle of wine and set about recommending things to Lizzy.
‘You have to try the squid. And the belly of pork is something else.’
He’d taken his coat off and rolled up his shirtsleeves, revealing well-shaped forearms with a dusting of freckles. His thick hair had gone slightly crinkled from the rain, making him look more approachable and human. Lizzy watched as he called the owner back over and they conversed animatedly about something. The brooding wallflower of an hour ago had gone.
‘So I take it you won’t be going to any more singles nights then?’ she asked him when the owner had gone.
‘Put it this way, I would rather gouge my eyeballs out with red-hot teaspoons.’ Elliot snapped the menu shut and put it down on the table. ‘But tonight has merely proved my point.’
‘Which is?’
‘You’re not trying hard enough,’ he said triumphantly. ‘You were in there with Greggy Boy and you wimped out at the last minute.’
‘I did nothing of the sort. I told you, I didn’t fancy him,’ she added. She was hardly going to tell Elliot that she’d felt sorry for him. The god of dating had better have someone else lined up after her act of self-sacrifice. Or maybe she could get in touch with Greg and apologize and see if he’d go out with her another time. Lizzy picked up her drink. ‘At least I made an effort to speak to people, instead of skulking by the jukebox like Billy No Mates all night.’
‘We weren’t there for me,’ he reminded her. He picked up his own glass. ‘Shall we make a toast?’
‘To what?’
‘How about to you not being able to close the deal, and me making a terrible wingman?’
‘I’ll drink to the second one.’
They clinked glasses. ‘What are you smiling at?’ Elliot asked her.
‘You,’ Lizzy said. ‘
This.
Who would have thought we’d ever get to a point where we were sat having a civil meal together?’
‘You see, I’m not a complete ogre.’
‘What was it you said in your first email?’ she reminded him. ‘Something about me spending my life peddling meaningless drivel?’
‘I recall you telling me to cheer up.’
‘Damn right. Miserable git.’
They grinned across the table at each other.
‘Was I really that bad?’ he asked her.
‘Put it this way,’ Lizzy said. ‘If you were to ask me what was the more appealing prospect: hanging out with Hitler during his final hours in his underground bunker or meeting up with you for coffee, I would have gone with Hitler every time.’
Elliot had the grace to look contrite. ‘I wasn’t in the best place back then. I’m sorry if I upset you.’
‘It’s all right,’ she told him. ‘I didn’t let your darkness infect me. It was like water off a duck’s back.’
‘Have you always been this relentlessly sunny?’ he asked. ‘You’re like the girl in
Enchanted
. I’m surprised a flock of sparrows hasn’t burst in yet and started circling round our table.’
‘A-ha!’ Lizzy crowed. ‘You’ve seen
Enchanted
! That’s hardly your normal highbrow fare.’
‘It was on a flight and I’d seen everything else. I like Amy Adams. Oh shut up,’ he muttered. ‘You’re so annoying.’
Glowing with delight, Lizzy retreated to her side of the table. They should make winding Elliot Anderson up into a national pastime.
Bits and pieces of food began to arrive. ‘Tuck in,’ he announced. ‘Otherwise I’ll probably end up eating everything.’
They concentrated on their plates for the next few minutes. ‘You’re right, the squid is unbelievable,’ Lizzy mumbled. ‘How come I’ve never been here before?’
‘Contrary to your opinion that I’m a boring old fart I do actually know some good places to go.’
Lizzy pulled a face at him and then forked up another mouthful of noodles. ‘So, you and Marcus,’ she said after she’d swallowed.
‘What about me and Marcus?’
She’d been dying to ask him more about it. ‘So did you steal Amber off Marcus? Is that why he hates you so much?’
‘Of course I didn’t
steal
Amber from him,’ he retorted. ‘It was only a matter of time before she worked out what an arse he is for herself.’
‘You mentioned at the café you were at school together.’
‘Yes, unfortunately. He was a thuggish twat even back then. We didn’t get on from the start.’
‘Too similar?’ Lizzy suggested.
Elliot looked affronted. ‘Certainly not! I have a brain for a start.’
Lizzy poured them out more wine. ‘And then Amber came along and you became
love
rivals.’
‘If you want to call it that. Luckily she was far too mature to take any notice of the pathetic one-upmanship of testosterone-fuelled schoolboys. And anyway, it ended up that she and I became friends.’ There it was again. That wistful face Elliot got whenever he talked about her. ‘Marcus wasn’t so subtle. He kept on relentlessly chasing her over the years. God knows how he persuaded her to get engaged to him. I always told Amber she must have been going through some kind of temporary madness.’ He gazed blackly past Lizzy’s shoulder.
Shit.
They’d been having a good time until then, and Lizzy had made the classic mistake of bringing up The Ex. But just as quickly, Elliot seemed to snap out of it. ‘Come on, back to the job in hand. This place operates a clean-plate policy.’
Ten minutes later Lizzy had eaten so much her stomach was in danger of exploding. ‘Mercy,’ she said. ‘Take it away from me.’
Elliot was still going. She watched him finish not only his share, but all the stuff she couldn’t manage. The man wasn’t carrying an inch of spare fat. Where did it all go?
They bypassed dessert and asked for the bill. When it came back Elliot picked it up before Lizzy could get in there. ‘I’ll get this.’
‘You really don’t have to.’
‘I’ll put it through on expenses. I’ll just say I took a contact out for dinner.’
‘Happy Halos
are
trending on the stock market, you know.’
‘That doesn’t even make sense.’ Elliot’s lips twitched. ‘You are an idiot on so many levels.’
The bill had come with two fortune cookies. ‘After you,’ Lizzy said. ‘Let’s see what our futures hold.’
‘You first. After all, you’re the one who believes in this crap.’
They ended up both going for a cookie at the same time. As their fingers brushed, from out of absolutely nowhere, Lizzy felt a weird crackle of static between them.
In that moment the world narrowed to a pinprick. She stopped being aware of the table of rowdy men next to them and the clatter and shouts of the staff in the kitchen. All that mattered was her and Elliot. His greeny-hazel eyes held hers, steady and questioning. Deep in the pit of her stomach, Lizzy felt the unmistakable ache of desire.
One of the drunken men stood up and banged into Lizzy’s chair, severing the moment. Elliot blinked and gave Lizzy a slightly puzzled look.
‘Go on then.’
‘Go on what?’ Lizzy felt stunned by what had just happened. Or had she totally imagined it?
Elliot was acting as if he’d felt nothing. He nodded at Lizzy’s fortune cookie. ‘What does the message say?’
She had to concentrate to get the wrapping off. ‘Bread today is better than cake tomorrow,’ she read out. Was that something to do with all the crap she ate?
He cracked his own cookie in half and frowned. ‘The cleverer you think you are, the dumber you look.’
Lizzy burst out laughing. It was a welcome relief from the tension. ‘I’d say that was spot on.’
Back outside even the hectic streets of Chinatown were starting to settle down for the night. There was a lone black cab on the other side of the road, the engine chugging expectantly.
Elliot looked at his watch. ‘Last tube has gone. You’d better get that.’
Lizzy waved at the driver to indicate she was coming. ‘Thanks for dinner,’ she said awkwardly. ‘And for being my wingman tonight.’
‘I wasn’t exactly very good at it.’ He was fixated on an old drunk who was staggering down the street. ‘You’ll have to ask someone else next time.’
‘Yeah, I guess I will,’ she said, wondering why that made her feel disappointed.
‘Night then,’ he said.
‘Night,’ she said. He seemed to be waiting for her to go out of politeness, so Lizzy hurried over the road and got into the cab. As they pulled off she dared herself to look through the back window. Elliot had already disappeared into the night.
The next day at work Lizzy couldn’t concentrate. The more she thought about the moment of bristling chemistry, the more she started to doubt it. They had never had anything like that before. Elliot was good-looking if you liked that pompous, arrogant thing, but Lizzy didn’t.
Stop being ridiculous
, she told herself furiously.
This is Elliot we’re talking about. Moody, infuriating, objectionable Elliot. Moody, infuriating, objectionable Elliot who is heartbroken after splitting up with his fiancée.
She half-expected a flashing red light to appear in front of her and an automated voice to start going off.
Warning. This man is heartbroken. Warning. Keep clear.
She was unusually distracted all morning. It was only when Antonia threw a green teabag at her head that Lizzy realized her boss was talking to her.
‘Sorry, I was just thinking about something else.’
‘Hungover more like,’ Antonia said disapprovingly, despite the fact that she’d gone for a ‘business lunch’ at Highroad House and not appeared again until nearly home-time, with champagne-flushed cheeks.
All day Lizzy kept an eye on her emails. Elliot didn’t message her. She certainly wasn’t going to contact him.
Is this a game I’m playing all by myself?
she wondered more than once.
That evening Nic had managed to get them a table at a new restaurant in Covent Garden. There had been the usual dramas at the office, so Lizzy was running a bit late. When she got out of the tube she texted Nic to say she was two minutes away.
There was also a missed call from Robbie. Lizzy called him back as she walked down the street, but it rang out to voicemail.
‘Robbo, it’s me. What’s up? Call me back.’
The celebrity-owned steakhouse had such a discreet entrance that Lizzy walked past it twice. Poppet and Nic were already there and halfway down two Kir Royales.
‘Ooh, what’s the occasion?’ Lizzy asked.
‘Just because we’re us.’ Poppet caught the eye of a waiter. ‘Another one of these please!’
Nic was hunched over her drink like someone in severe pain. Apparently she was jet-lagged and also constipated, because her bowels had crossed three different time zones in the last seven days.
‘If I’d known I’d have brought some Helping Hand with me,’ Lizzy told her. ‘I’ll pop a few products in the post to you first thing tomorrow.’
‘Thanks, but I always use alcohol as a laxative. It’s much more enjoyable.’
‘She’d already had half a bottle of Pinot before we met,’ Poppet whispered worriedly to Lizzy.
The girls ordered more wine and then the waiter asked them how they liked their steaks done.
‘Red raw,’ Nic told him. ‘Beating, pulsating, still dripping with blood as if you’d just dragged that cow in now and killed it with your bare hands.’
The young man looked slightly alarmed. ‘I’ll see what the kitchen can do.’
Alone again, the girls settled back with their fresh drinks.
‘Seen Elliot lately?’
Nic was looking at Lizzy, with that penetrative, interrogative look she got sometimes. Lizzy flushed. ‘Last night, as a matter of fact.’ She took a sip of her drink. ‘We, er, went to a singles night together.’