‘Ow!’ He clutched at his eye. ‘Damn it.’ He couldn’t have sounded more American if he’d tried.
‘I am so sorry,’ said Anna, profusely British and mortified at what she’d done. He staggered a little on the steps, his eyes tight shut. ‘Come over here,’ she said, taking his arm, noting the muscle definition through his jacket sleeve, and guiding him away from the flow of people coming up the steps. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, hoping he was going to say yes.
‘Do I look okay?’ he snapped but at least he opened his good eye to survey his aggressor. He definitely had an American accent.
Anna gave an apologetic smile. ‘I am really very sorry. Shall I take a look?’ She pointed at his eye and he flinched.
‘No, thank you. Can you just tell me how to get inside the building?’ He gave her a look that implied he doubted she had the ability.
‘This is a staff entrance. You need …’ she thought better of showing him her pass again ‘… a staff security pass to get in this door. Shall I show you?’
‘No, I think you’ve done enough.’ His sarcasm wasn’t lost on her.
‘Okay, right, yes.’ You couldn’t help some people. ‘Have a nice day,’ she said, and she waltzed up the steps. There were a few people in front of her. When they shuffled forward she swiped her card and followed them into the revolving door. She glanced over her shoulder. He was still watching her. Perhaps he was trying to get in illegally, although she couldn’t think why. Suddenly the door stopped revolving but Anna carried on, banging her head on the glass. ‘Ow!’ She rubbed her forehead. That’d be a bruise later. The door then proceeded to go in reverse and spat her out into a queue full of tutting people. This happened every so often when your card hadn’t registered properly. Anna apologised to the queue, firmly reswiped her card and gave a quick glance at the American who was smirking broadly with his eyebrows raised in amusement. Great.
She took the stairs to the second floor and scanned the office for any new faces in their area; she was keen to meet the person who she’d be working closely with over the next year. The company operated a hot-desking policy, which was a bone of contention with everyone. A few people had allocated desks for a variety of valid and spurious reasons, leaving the rest of them to fight on a first-come, first-served basis. Anna was in luck as her favourite desk was free. It was a little like an old folks’ home in that they didn’t have their own seat but they all liked to sit in a certain one – and woe betide anyone who sat in a different seat.
She plugged in her laptop and while it fired up she went to get coffees for her, Sophie and their lead designer, Karl. Anna, Sophie and Karl had met when they’d been put on the same special project a few years ago and had quickly bonded over long days, a shared sense of humour and a love of good coffee. When she returned, Sophie and Karl were behaving like a pair of snooping meerkats, both on tiptoes peering over the filing cabinets towards their boss’s office.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Anna, handing out the coffees.
‘Venti, Americano, with hot milk?’ asked Karl, not averting his eyes from his surveillance operation as he took the cup.
‘Yep,’ said Anna, trying to see what they were watching.
‘With an extra shot?’ added Karl.
‘Yes, of course. What’s going on?’
‘And the cute brunette’s phone number?’
‘Y … No!’ Anna gave him her best withering glare and he replied with a wink. Karl was incorrigible; one of the last non-PC people she knew and also the gayest straight man she’d ever encountered.
‘We think Roberta’s meeting with the project manager from West Midlands Insurance,’ said Sophie.
Anna went up on tiptoes herself but it did no good – she was already in very high heels and still too short to be able to see anything. Her mobile trilled into life: it was Roberta.
‘Anna, could you come to my office right away? I’d like you to meet the new PM.’
‘On my way,’ said Anna, but Roberta had already ended the call.
‘Cover me, I’m going in,’ said Anna, picking up her trusty project folder and coffee.
Anna knocked on the glass office door. Office was too grand a term for the small corner sectioned off with boards and a sliding smoked-glass door but Roberta was very proud of it, having battled tooth and manicured false nail to get the ‘office’ she deserved.
‘Come in,’ said Roberta. ‘Ah, Anna. You took your time.’ Anna ignored her. Roberta was an odd sort and it was best not to challenge her. ‘I’d like you to meet Hudson Jones.’ What sort of name was that?
The person sitting with their back to the door stood up and turned around. Anna noticed he was rather tall and slim in his trendy suit, good-looking in an obvious way, and unnervingly familiar. When she saw one of his eyes was swollen it all clicked into place.
‘Hudson, this is Anna Strickland, our lead PM.’
‘You?’ said Hudson, blinking with his good eye, which she noticed was a beautiful shade of blue.
She gave a nervous laugh and extended her hand. ‘Yes, it’s me. Lovely to meet you. Again.’ She gave a little nod with the last word but had no idea why.
‘Oh, you already know each other. That should speed things up. Hudson has some excellent suggestions for project team structure, operational integration and …’ Roberta was checking her notes.
‘Project approach,’ said Hudson, sounding confident.
‘That’s terrific,’ said Anna, thinking the opposite. ‘I’ll walk you through what I already have in place.’ Hudson didn’t look pleased. They had both quickly picked up on the other’s frostiness.
‘Anna will bring you up to speed. I have a very important meeting to go to,’ said Roberta, squeezing her ample form from behind the largest desk the company could provide.
‘I think we’re all in that meeting,’ said Anna, giving her printed calendar a quick check.
‘Then I’ll follow you,’ said Hudson. ‘From a safe distance,’ he added for Anna’s benefit.
It was a day of back-to-back meetings, never her favourite thing and even less so as she’d found herself going head-to-head with Hudson in the last two sessions. He was overconfident – or cocksure, as her grandad would have called it – and so far he had challenged everything Anna had raised. He had a bunch of ideas he seemed to think he could apply without knowing the first thing about their company processes and it was already starting to infuriate her.
She had a long list of things she would need to explain to him when she got the chance. The next meeting was with Karl, so Anna hoped that would offer a little light relief. She headed off to the room she’d booked, which she knew was barely more than a cupboard. When she got there the blind was down and the ‘In Use’ sign was on, so she waited. She was mulling over what to have for tea when she recognised the voices giggling inside as Karl and Sophie. She opened the door expecting to be greeted by friendly faces rather than a shifty duo caught in the act of something they shouldn’t have been doing.
Anna stared at the small table where Karl had two teaspoons and a small pile of white powder. She gazed disbelievingly at the guilty-looking pair and hastily shut the door behind her. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ asked Anna. Sophie stepped forward but erupted into giggles. ‘OhMyGod. Have you taken some of that?’ Anna was beyond shocked. She looked to Karl for an answer. They would all be instantly dismissed if anyone saw this.
‘It’s not what you think,’ said Karl, before joining Sophie in hysterics.
‘For goodness’ sake – shhh. And pull yourselves together,’ snapped Anna, anxiety coursing through her at the thought of being caught in this situation. ‘Get rid of it!’ Anna stabbed a finger at the white powder.
Sophie paused her giggling to sweep the white powder into a plastic cup of what looked like water. The liquid fizzed. Sophie gave it a swirl, lifted it to her lips and to Anna’s horror drank it down. Anna dropped her notebook and papers as her hands flew to her head. Was Sophie trying to get rid of the baby?
‘Whoa. It’s okay,’ said Sophie, seeming to realise Anna’s distress was very real. ‘It’s only paracetamol.’
Anna didn’t believe her. Paracetamol came in tablets not white powder. ‘You’re mainlining paracetamol?’
She glared at Karl. ‘Sophie’s got a headache and I read somewhere it acts quicker if you crush the tablets and take them in lemonade,’ he said.
Sophie was nodding. ‘I had a wicked headache and I don’t like taking anything when I’m pregnant. I thought I’d try a single crushed paracetamol and see if it worked. It’s probably hokum.’
Anna was shaking her head. ‘I thought it was … It looked like … Bloody hell, you scared the life out of me.’
‘Did you think we had a crack den going in here?’ Karl looked amused.
‘No … well, possibly. What on earth was I supposed to think?’
‘This was totally innocent. If you’re after the real crack den, it’s in the stationery cupboard up on the fourth floor,’ he said, with a tap of his nose.
‘You are a pair of idiots. Anyone would have thought the same as me. Now clear away any trace of that stuff,’ said Anna, picking up her things from the floor.
‘Sorry,’ said Sophie. ‘We didn’t mean to freak you out.’
‘We’d have been snorting it through ten-pound notes if we did,’ said Karl, with a chuckle.
‘I hope your headache goes,’ said Anna, as Sophie left the room.
‘Right, Karl, let’s talk Design Architecture,’ said Anna, turning back to him.
Karl narrowed his left eye and pouted. ‘I’m guessing you’ve not spoken to Hudson then?’ Of course Hudson had jumped the gun and spoken to Karl already, without her. Anna felt an involuntary sigh escape. She was feeling less and less guilty about whacking the guy in the eye.
After the day from hell Anna was in need of a strong coffee and a good old moan but what she opted for was a trip to the cat rescue. She didn’t like going home to an empty flat and it was a small stand for something she wanted and Liam had never let her have. And moaning to herself was never any fun, but with a cat at least she’d feel like someone was listening. As she had suspected they had lots of kittens and any one of them would have been perfect. They were all cute and all she had to do was choose one. She liked the one with the black patch over its eye and the one who looked like it was wearing a dinner jacket.
A young couple with two small children were looking at the same litter of black and white splodges. There was only one volunteer who was clearly rushed off her feet and was being continually harassed. Anna moved out of the way and went to peruse the pens at the other end away from the kittens whilst she waited for her turn. Each cage had a jolly write-up of its occupant. A very noisy Burmese called Sasha focused his elongated meow at her until she spoke to him. Anna moved out of Sasha’s field of vision and was watching Bill and Ben, two ginger and white males, who were peering over a sign on their window that said ‘reserved’ when there was a thud behind her. Anna turned around to see an exceptionally large tabby cat with both paws on the glass window of his pen. Clearly happy he’d attracted Anna’s attention, he started to parade up and down in front of the glass with his fluffy tail held high. Anna smiled and went over.
His bio said his name was Maurice and he was nine years old, though when Anna peered closer, he didn’t look like an old cat. The dark, long-haired tabby was now sitting, staring directly at Anna. He seemed to fill most of his pen. Anna didn’t think she’d ever seen a cat that big before that wasn’t in a zoo.
‘Sorry, were you next?’ asked the volunteer.
‘Yes,’ said Anna. ‘Is he really nine?’
‘Maurice? Yes, he is, but there’s plenty of life left in him,’ said the volunteer, reaching to open the pen so Anna could meet the cat.
‘It’s okay. I was really after a kitten.’ Anna felt instantly guilty. She sidled away so Maurice wouldn’t hear, which she knew was a bit crazy.
‘We have plenty of kittens. Let’s fill the form in and you can tell me which one you’d like.’ Anna relaxed and followed the volunteer back to the kitten section. She glanced over her shoulder. The big fluffy cat was watching Anna intently. The volunteer went through the questions but Anna’s mind kept going back to Maurice.
‘Has Maurice been here a long time?’
‘A couple of months. He’s got a lovely nature but very few people want the middle-aged ones. Is your property rented or owned?’
‘It’s owned. Where did he come from?’
The volunteer stopped filling in the form and looked at Anna. ‘It’s a bit sad really. His owner had a fall and had to go into a nursing home and they couldn’t find anyone to take Maurice so he came here. He’s struggled to settle into life at the centre. He’s been used to the same lap to sit on for nine years and a garden to wander around in, so it’s a bit of a shock for him. That’s why he doesn’t interact much.’ She sighed. Back to the form: ‘Any other pets?’
‘Err, no. Poor thing, he seemed quite friendly.’
‘Did he? You should be honoured. He ignores most of us.’ She scribbled her initials at the bottom of the piece of paper. ‘Right, we’ll pop over one evening and do your home check, and then you’ll be able to come and collect your kitten. Which one was it?’
‘It was … um …’ Anna had to think hard as both the kittens she’d liked had slipped from her mind and all that was there was a picture of Maurice. ‘Actually, could I have another look at them please?’
Sophie kissed Arlo’s forehead and smoothed his hair to one side. It was wayward like his father’s. ‘Night, sweetie. Straight to sleep now.’
‘I don’t see why I should when Petal is still up,’ said Arlo, folding his arms indignantly over his Star Wars pyjamas. ‘She’s younger than me!’
Tiredness had claimed most of Sophie’s body and it felt like she was sinking. Sophie sighed and adjusted the grumpy jiggling mass on her hip that was Petal. She’d forgotten how tired she got when she was pregnant. It went beyond the usual levels of yawning and looking forward to bedtime and was more a sensation closer to lapsing unconscious.
‘Sweetie, Petal’s going to bed now too. Night, night.’
‘But it’s not fair!’ he said, his bottom lip starting to quiver.
‘Sweetie, please, Mummy is tired. Please go to sleep.’
‘Everyone in my class stays up late. Why can’t I?’
I can’t have this conversation now, thought Sophie as Petal’s wriggling increased and was now accompanied by whining.
‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Night, night.’ She switched the light out and shut the door.
‘I don’t like the dark!’ shouted Arlo. Sophie closed her eyes, and tears tumbled silently down her cheeks. The clunk of the key in the lock announced that Dave was home.
‘Hiya,’ he called into the hall. Sophie briskly wiped away the tears, sniffed and headed downstairs.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ said Dave to Petal who reached out for him. ‘You should be in bed by now – it’s late.’
‘Give over, Dave. I’ve not stopped all day so please don’t walk in and start criticising my parenting.’
‘Hey, it wasn’t a criticism. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it for you.’
Sophie huffed. ‘But that’s the thing, you’re not doing it for me. These are your children too!’
‘Blimey, who’s upset you today?’ He headed upstairs with a happily dribbling Petal.
‘You,’ said Sophie, but he was out of earshot. ‘It’s always you.’
When Dave came back downstairs Sophie was plonking dinner on the table.
‘This looks great. I think I’ll have a glass of Merlot with it,’ said Dave, diverting to the wine rack. Sophie glared at him. She needed a glass of red wine far more than he did but she wasn’t allowed one – pregnancy was so unfair.
Dave merrily loaded his fork with spaghetti bolognaise and took a large swig of wine as he read an email on his phone. Sophie sipped her glass of water and stared at him. He’d hardly said anything since they’d sat down to eat aside from imparting that the irritating dry skin patch had returned to his elbow.
‘Dave, I want to go on holiday.’
‘Hmm.’ He eventually pulled his eyes away from his phone. ‘Maybe next year.’
‘Next year we’ll have three kids to contend with. That’s no holiday, plus it’ll cost more.’
That seemed to grab his attention. Dave loved to save money. ‘I guess we could take Arlo out of school, which would make it a lot cheaper. It’s a right rip-off that the travel companies hoik up the prices because of the school holidays.’ He shook his head.
‘Okay, great.’ This was a lot easier than she’d anticipated. Of late Dave seemed to be displaying many Scrooge-like qualities so this was a pleasant change. ‘I’m thinking somewhere in the Caribbean. Nothing too touristy but somewhere like Anguilla might be nice.’
‘We can’t afford … where was it again?’
‘Anguilla. Beyoncé and Richard Gere holiday there.’
‘Together?’ asked Dave, through a mouthful of spaghetti.
‘Don’t be daft. Or Bora Bora, that looked amazing on Keeping Up With The Kardashians.’
‘Sophe. That sort of holiday costs thousands and the kids would be a nightmare on the plane. How about a few days at Butlins?’
‘Butlins?’ Sophie almost shouted.
‘What’s wrong with Butlins? The kids would love it.’
Sophie was shaking her head. ‘Plugging hell, Dave. I don’t work my bum off to have a few crabby days in Butlins. I thought it might be nice to have some time just the four of us before the new baby arrives. Have a proper family holiday.’
‘I had proper family holidays at Butlins as a kid and loved it.’
‘Your mum went to Butlins?’ Sophie found this hard to believe as her mother-in-law, Karen, was the stuck-up sort. She was also a force to be reckoned with, which had earned her the nickname the Kraken – though it was mainly Sophie who called her that.
‘No, our grandparents took us. But we had the best time. I think it’d be great. We could do a weekend and see what we think?’
‘I am not going to fuzzing Butlins.’ Sophie went to pick up her glass but realising it contained water she slapped her hand on the table, making them both jump.
Dave’s mouth drooped at both edges. ‘Sophe, do you remember the conversation we had when we bought this place?’ Sophie gave a twitch of her head and tried hard not to pout. ‘We agreed this was our forever home but to be able to afford it we had to give up all the other stuff for a while, including big holidays.’
At the time Sophie would have agreed to anything. She’d fallen in love with the house and Wildflower Park, and she knew she had to have it. Even if it had meant selling a kidney, she would still have given it serious consideration.
‘And you’ll get a break when you’re on maternity leave,’ he said, spearing his dinner with his fork. Sophie had to stop herself from spearing him with hers.
Sophie was deep in conversation with Roberta’s PA, Priya, when Anna emerged from the stairwell soaked to the skin and thoroughly fed up that her bus had been late and she’d got caught in a torrential April shower. She scanned their area but all the best desks were occupied.
‘Where can I sit?’ asked Anna, trying to avoid looking at the dark side of the office.
‘Peter is out today, you can sit there,’ said Priya, pointing at the desk behind her that was strewn with photographs of two small blonde children and a selection of pictures of stick people. Anna dumped her stuff on the desk and instantly felt like a squatter as she moved the ‘Best Daddy in the World’ mug to one side.
‘I think he must have had his teeth whitened,’ said Sophie, running a tongue over her own.
‘You’d be able to find him in the dark,’ giggled Priya. ‘He is gorgeous though.’
‘Who’s this?’ asked Anna, switching on her laptop.
‘Hunky Hudson,’ said Sophie, widening her eyes.
Anna’s interest waned. ‘Do you have to call him that?’
‘He’s gorgeous! How can you not fancy him, Anna?’ asked Priya, looking genuinely surprised.
‘Meh?’ was all Anna could manage. His domineering attitude had completely deleted any alluring quality he may have displayed.
‘I think he’s totally fit and—’
‘Who’s fit?’ asked Roberta, emerging from the lifts and Anna made a mental note that she clearly had bionic hearing.
‘Hudson,’ said Priya, as she shuffled some papers to make herself appear busy.
‘Fit and very gay, I’m afraid,’ said Roberta. Anna and Sophie became interested again.
‘He never is?’ said Sophie dismissively.
‘I think his life partner would disagree with you,’ said Roberta, radiating smugness as she took her list of meetings from Priya.
‘His shirt yesterday was very fitted,’ said Priya, emphasising it by running her hands over her own body.
‘Have you met his other half then?’ Anna’s usually strong gaydar abilities had been called into question.
‘I spoke to him on the phone when I rang to discuss the job with Hudson.’
Priya looked thoroughly disappointed ‘That’s ruined my day that has.’ Roberta headed off to her first meeting and Priya followed at a trudge.
‘Because otherwise, she would have been well in there,’ whispered Sophie to Anna who shooed her back to her own desk. The last thing Anna needed was to get into office backbiting. She checked her watch: two minutes to the start of the project meeting and no sign of Hudson or Karl. She gathered up a pile of Post-it Notes and a roll of brown paper from the stationery cupboard en route, and felt a spring in her step as she strode off to the meeting. This was where she took control and Hudson would have to acknowledge her project management prowess.
Anna heard laughter as she approached the room and tried hard not to look shocked as she saw Hudson, Karl, and a variety of others sipping coffee and munching on croissants.
‘Morning, Anna! Help yourself to breakfast. We’re about to kick off,’ said Hudson, taking off his jacket to reveal a distinctive pale pink shirt with shiny spots woven into the material, which was a perfect, although somewhat snug, fit.
‘Nice shirt,’ said Sophie, taking a seat and giving Anna a knowing look. Anna offloaded her stationery cargo to the floor. She decided she would see what he had planned before she dived in.
Sophie leaned over conspiratorially. ‘I don’t care if he is gay, he’s still gorgeous.’ Anna shook her head at Sophie, who stuck her tongue out playfully.
‘Our goal today is to get a common understanding of the project end state,’ announced Hudson. ‘You are all absolutely key to its success but only if we are all focusing on the same thing.’ She had to admit he was quite charismatic but already she hated herself for being passive and letting him lead. This was exactly what he wanted and she needed to fight back.
‘If you’re ready to map out that end state and how we get there, I’ve brought the tools,’ said Anna, casually indicating the brown paper and sticky notes.
‘Thanks, but the whiteboard will be fine,’ said Hudson, barely glancing over.
‘But you can move the sticky notes about … and there’s a different colour for each workstream.’
Hudson’s expression was disparaging. ‘I prefer the whiteboard and I can just take a photo at the end when we’re happy with it. Anyway,’ he said, clasping his hands together and focusing on the smiling Sophie. Traitor, thought Anna. ‘I’m really keen that we work together as a cohesive team.’ Sophie nodded vehemently and Anna rolled her eyes.
‘In which case we need to be clear on roles and responsibilities within the programme,’ stated Anna, leaning forward in her chair and starting to feel ready for a fight.
‘I disagree,’ said Hudson. ‘We don’t need defined roles, we just need to utilise everyone’s skills.’
Anna felt as though she were on the centre court at Wimbledon as the heads spun back in her direction in anticipation of her response. She wasn’t backing down now. A voice in her head said ‘Deuce’.
‘And the easiest way to understand each other’s skills is to assign everyone a specific role on the project …’ Hudson opened his mouth to butt in but Anna continued, ‘to ensure we maximise resources and don’t have any duplication of effort.’ Advantage Strickland.
‘I really don’t want to waste anyone’s time this morning, so let’s focus on the end state for now and we can have a discussion later about roles and responsibilities. Offline.’
Deuce.
Anna hated office speak or Corporate Bollocks and she had a feeling Hudson was going to be fluent in it.
‘Okay,’ said Anna, and Hudson let out a sigh. ‘But we are all going to have a slightly different view of what the end state is—’
‘Which is the whole purpose of this meeting,’ said Hudson, the agitation in his voice apparent. ‘Let’s spend what’s left of this session coming to a consensus on what that end state looks like.’ Advantage Jones. ‘Is everyone happy with that approach?’ Everyone nodded except for Anna. Game Jones.
Hudson swept away the writing someone had left on the whiteboard with a few broad strokes of the board rubber, his toned muscles flexing under his well-fitted shirt. He had no need to go up on tiptoes to reach the top edge or jump up and down like an untrained terrier as Anna always had to do. She was really beginning to dislike him.
Anna was beavering away at her computer, trying to ignore the laughing coming from the other side of the office. She gave a cross glance in their general direction and paused. Hudson was sitting nonchalantly on the corner of his desk holding court as the others all gazed at him adoringly. Anna slumped back in her seat – it was like being back at school and being up against Chloe Buglioni for Head Girl all over again. Just like Chloe, Hudson was taller, more attractive, funnier and more confident than her. Unlike Chloe, he wasn’t promising to kiss anyone who voted for him, although from the looks on their rapt faces they would probably have liked him to. Another guffaw of laughter and head-shaking seemed to signal the end of Hudson’s story and everyone started to disperse. Anna gritted her teeth – he wasn’t Chloe, and this time, she wasn’t going to lose.
‘You coming to the pub?’ asked Sophie.
Anna stretched her neck and it clicked. She checked her watch. ‘Yeah, go on then – just for half an hour and then I need to get home for my home inspection from the cat rescue place.’
‘Hudson’s paying,’ added Sophie, turning to watch him bend over to pick up his laptop bag.
Anna was instantly no longer keen. ‘Actually, I’ll finish this.’ She angled her head towards her screen.
Sophie pouted. ‘Come on, don’t be like that. It’s not his fault you’re doing a job share.’
‘He could back down.’
‘But you’re not,’ said Sophie, with a knowing look. She had a good point.
Anna was trying to think of another excuse when Hudson strode over with his bag slung casually across his body. ‘You coming, Anna?’ He had one of those smiles she’d only seen previously on film stars. All perfect white teeth and twinkling eyes.
‘Yes, she’s just packing up,’ said Sophie, before Anna could form her excuse.
‘Awesome, see you both over there,’ said Hudson, and he strode off.
Anna slumped back in her chair. ‘What did you do that for?’ Her voice came out whinier than she’d have liked.
‘Because you and Hudson have to find a way to get on and if this is him offering an olive branch …’
‘I’d like to shove it up—’
‘Uh-uh,’ said Sophie leaning over and unplugging Anna’s laptop. ‘Play nice.’
The pub was noisy and busy and Anna was regretting agreeing to go but she had a plan: she’d have one Coke then she’d slip away without anyone noticing. She spotted the usual suspects at the far end of the bar, and with lots of apologies she weaved her way through.
‘Anna,’ called Hudson, beckoning her over.
As she and Sophie reached him, he produced two filled champagne flutes. ‘Here you go, ladies.’
‘Thanks, but I’ll just have a Coke,’ said Anna, getting out her purse.
‘Me too,’ said Sophie, gazing longingly at the glass of fizz.
‘Come on, who doesn’t like champagne?’ asked Hudson, raising both the glasses temptingly.
‘I don’t,’ said Anna.
Hudson proffered a glass to Sophie. ‘I’m on antibiotics,’ she lied. She wasn’t ready to share her baby news yet.
Hudson insisted on paying for their soft drinks and they moved away from the bar to a marginally quieter corner. ‘I need the loo,’ said Sophie and she selfishly disappeared, leaving Anna with Hudson. As if I don’t get enough of him at work, Anna thought.
‘I’m excited about working with you Anna.’ He actually sounded genuine but Anna’s bullshit monitor went into overdrive anyway.
‘Why’s that?’
‘You know so much about the company. You know the right people to engage with and they like you.’
He had clearly been doing some snooping around to find out about what people thought of her. She wasn’t sure if she felt flattered or intruded upon, but she definitely didn’t want to talk shop at the pub.
‘Thanks. Let’s not talk about me. What’s your story?’
He took a slow draw of champagne. He had attractive lips, plump and pink.
‘My dad’s American, my mom’s British. I was born just outside New York in a village called Port Chester. My dad worked in Manhattan. Shortly after 9/11 we moved to England. I went back to the US for university and I’ve been working in the UK for a few years now.’
He had a way of holding her attention and she wanted to know more but didn’t want to appear keen. ‘You’ve not lost the accent.’
‘I’ll let you in on a little secret.’ Without realising it she was leaning closer. She detected a hint of aftershave. ‘I think it’s you who has the accent.’