34. DIARY
He is watching her from the doorway. The evening sun is shining through the office windows. He is glowing golden. Perhaps she is too. He is looking at her as if she is the sunset. She squints against the light from outside. She squirms a little under his gaze.
What an odd dynamic they have now.
"Drink?"
"Can't. Busy."
"Shame. I wanted to run some lessons for life plans by you."
She scoffs a little at this. For obvious reasons. Just enough for him to notice the new smile on her lips as she packs up the day into her handbag.
"You've changed your tune."
"Yeah. Thought I could do a lesson on how to carry a rucksack."
At this, she can't help but laugh. He is good at making her laugh. He has been from the start. Even when he didn't mean to be. Even before he actually wanted to. Zipping her laptop away she grins at him. Is this an 'in joke'? Do they have an 'in joke'?
He doesn't smile back. He continues to lean against the doorframe, hands in his pockets. Surreptitious admiration clouding his features. He looks at her like this a lot. She likes it. A lot.
"Half an hour. Please?"
She twists her lips.
"Aren't you seeing Alison tonight?"
Oh. Michael. She meant Michael. Of course she meant Michael. Bowing her head to pretend to search for something in a drawer. Hiding the blush. The main thing was that little boy getting his dad back. Eddie and Alison were none of her business.
He shrugs, like a boy, "Was supposed to have Michael. Take him to the park."
"Oh."
"Don't think Alison likes see-saws much."
"Of course."
She should have taken the ice breaker when it was offered. She chooses instead to not even look up.
"Didn't know you kept track of my diary."
She didn't. She wasn't. It was just good to be reminded of his timetable and when he might be free for a weekly management meeting. That was all. She hadn't meant to look past 5pm…
"It's Michael I'm seeing, Rachel."
Don't look up. She mustn't. He'll see how rosy her cheeks are.
"Right."
"Besides, that's not til half six. Yours is clear."
Her head snaps up. She thinks he finds the surprise in her eyes, the redness of her face comical.
"Checked your week-to-view with Bridget."
"I don't include personal stuff."
"Oh. Right."
Stunned silence. That shut you up, ha.
"Doing anything nice?"
"What?"
"I'm making conversation. Rachel."
"I'm meeting someone."
"What? Like a date, then?"
"What?"
"With…uh-"
Has speaking with him always been this painful? Pretending not to hear was easier. She turns to face the wall, swings her coat off the back of the chair. Perhaps she should tell him where she is going. Perhaps she should tell him who with. Perhaps she should tell him everything. Perhaps she should write Stuart Hordley's name at the end of every weekday square in her diary so that he would ask her outright. Perhaps he should stop acting like a stupid teenager. Perhaps she should too. Perhaps she should just tell him that she'd prefer if it were him filling up all the blank spaces in her week-to-view. That she would love nothing more than to talk about the best way to carry a rucksack with him. All night long…
"Doesn't matter. Another time, then?"
Her smile is sad. He still squints at her as if she were a sun, setting.
"Of course. Have fun with Michael."
"Night."
Sorry I've been so absent! I am still enjoying your beautiful stories (those of you who post). Hope you enjoy this little snippet. More to come x