All Bets Are On
There was a surprised silence.
‘The point is to have fun,’ he said. ‘Look, I’m not trying to criticise. I’m just saying that the sun doesn’t rise and set with Innova. When did you last go out? Socially, I mean. For a drink or a meal?’
‘I go out,’ she said defensively, glaring at the back of the cubicle door, imagining him on the other side of it, with his dark tousled hair, crinkly-eyed smile, and his endless string of girlfriends and rampant social life. An image of her own previous evening flashed into her mind. Herself on the sofa, Kevin the cat on one side, stack of work files on the other, laptop open, CSI box set on the TV in the background. Hell, it might as well be an image of any evening this week. This year.
‘When? Where? Who with?’
‘What are you, my father? I see people.’ She frowned indignantly at the closed door.
‘See me, then,’ he said in a low voice and that soft melty sensation bubbled hotly back up inside her. She slid her hands across her middle and pressed hard to make it stop as she groped for a suitable response. Any response.
‘Alice?’ he said. Her stupid heart had begun to beat madly.
She took a deep calming breath.
‘What?’
His voice was low and close. She knew he must be literally right on the other side of the door.
‘If you haven’t dated for a long time and you’re thinking of getting back out there—’
‘I didn’t say that!’ she snapped. Oh, what the hell was she thinking, blurting out all her problems to him? At best he could go back to the office and report that Ice-Queen Ford was having a crying fit over being perpetually single. At worst, there really might be a Page Two of the damn bet pool and Harry Stephens could be right there on it with a big fat stake.
His voice was serious though, steady, making her feel as if he could see perfectly well through her bravado. Her insides felt suddenly squiggly.
‘Because if you were...’
‘Were what?’
Her thumping heart seemed to be working independently of her mind.
Please. Was she actually having a swooning moment over Harry Stephens of all people? After all she’d been through in the past had her body learned nothing? Did her heart have no reservations about reacting to the most unreliable playboy bachelor London had ever seen? Over the past year or so, he’d had more female workers in tears than she’d had hot coffees! She gritted her teeth. Obviously she’d been thrown off balance by discovery of the bet. Her usual defences had been scrambled.
‘If you were thinking about dating again, maybe you’d like to go for a drink,’ he said.
‘With you?’
The question exploded from her lips in the form of a laugh. Because it was laughable, wasn’t it? That after her past experiences she would look twice at someone like him.
‘Your amusement could be construed as an insult, you know,’ he said mildly.
‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’
Stock answer. No excuse required. Always worked on the run-of-the-mill guys in the office, those that dared broach the aloof distance she kept between herself and her colleagues. She could count the times she’d been asked out at work on one hand and, come to think of it, two of them had been in the last month or so. Her cheeks flushed hotly. Now she knew why—because there was a pot of cash waiting to be scooped by the man who managed to land her. She wondered again if Harry was involved.
‘Of course you can,’ he said. ‘No one works twenty-four-seven. Not even you. It’s only a drink. An hour. Everyone has an hour.’
‘I’m busy,’ she said again. ‘I don’t date.’
In Harry Stephens’s world, of course, no meant maybe. He realised it was a simple matter of finding the right approach. One that might appeal to her reluctance to get out there instead of feeding it. Start small. If she hadn’t dated for years, more than a drink or a coffee was going to seem monumental. And most important of all, offer some kind of incentive.
Make her think he could be part of the solution instead of part of the problem.
‘Just hear me out,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a proposition for you.’
‘What kind of proposition?’
The upset tone had slipped from her voice. He could almost hear the ticking over of her mind, her attention raised because he’d given his question a detached work-style tone.
‘I’m exactly what you need,’ he said. ‘To help you get back out there.’
TWO
There was a snap as the lock twisted back on the cubicle door and then Alice was in front of him. The tears had dried and her face was no longer purple. She looked pale and tired, her eyes red-rimmed from all the crying. Her hair, still partially twisted into its chignon, stuck out at odd angles. She took a deliberate side-step around him and moved across to the sink, putting a good space between them. Harry saw her grimace at her own reflection before she turned her gaze back on him.
As her eyes narrowed a spark of sudden heat zipped up his spine. Obviously because Alice Ford didn’t do vulnerable, he decided, that was all. She did polished and professional. He was bound to react to such a change in her.
‘What do you mean, you’re exactly what I need?’
Her arms were crossed defensively, her face totally suffused with suspicion and he knew that convincing her he was genuine was going to be tough. Then again, tough had never caused him a problem before.
‘What if I were to offer you my services?’ he said.
She was looking at him as if she thought he might be crazy.
‘Your services? As what exactly?’
He shrugged, leaned back against the wall and looked her in the eye.
‘As someone who dates a lot. Someone who’s out there.’
He ignored the cynical expression on her face and forged ahead.
‘Instead of going to bars or restaurants on your own, come out with me. You said yourself just now, you’re rusty. And starting from scratch at anything is pretty daunting—right? Just think of the alternatives.’ He shrugged. ‘There’s internet dating, where you never know if the person showing up is a serial killer.’
‘As opposed to a serial dater,’ she said, eyebrows raised.
‘Hey, that’s an advantage! I’ve probably been on more first dates than anyone else you know. I’m used to the social scene. I know all the best places to go to meet new people. I’m perfect for the job. Whatever your reason is for staying out of the field these last three years, whatever moron has stitched you up or treated you badly in the past—’
‘How do you know that’s the reason?’ she snapped, his interest sharpening at her sudden defensiveness. ‘I’ve been putting work first, that’s all. Focusing on my career. It’s as simple as that. I don’t need your help.’
‘OK, OK.’ He held his hands up. ‘You’ve still been out of the field for a while. Out of the social scene, out of the habit of getting to know people.’
‘I get to know people!’ she protested.
He deliberately fixed his gaze on hers.
‘Professionally maybe. But what about getting to know someone for pleasure?’
He saw a soft blush touch the porcelain skin of her cheekbones. He had her on edge. He liked having that effect on her.
‘Just think about it for a minute. A few no-strings dates with me and you’ll have checked out a few nice bars, maybe a restaurant or two, you will have broken the ice, started talking to people about something other than work for a change.’ He winked at her. ‘You’ll be back out there. Problem solved.’ He paused, then added an extra touch of encouragement. ‘And no one needs to know we ever had this conversation.’
Momentary relief in her eyes as she picked up on that last sentence. And then a sceptical smile touched the corner of her mouth, drawing his attention there.
‘And assuming I were to go along with this, what happens once I am “back out there”?’
He shrugged.
‘Then, when it runs its course, we part company and you make your own way forward, back in full control.’ He held his hands up in what he hoped was a you-can-trust-me gesture. ‘Totally risk-free.’
She gave him an amused look from beneath her dark eyelashes and his pulse rate began to climb unexpectedly. When you bothered to look beyond the starchy business persona she really was a knockout. She just needed to loosen up a bit.
‘Come on,’ he persuaded. ‘What have you got to lose?’
Her gaze narrowed suddenly.
‘And what exactly is in it for you? Why the hell would you want to take me out when you have the pick of the office, not to mention the city? I’m sure HR are recruiting at the moment—there should be a whole new intake of candidates for you to hit on if you wait a week or two. You’ve never seemed to have a problem finding someone before. And judging by the trail of devastation you leave around the office they all seem to be a bit more into you than I am.’
He grinned.
‘Maybe I like a challenge.’
She only looked at him levelly. How come he hadn’t realised before how softly pretty she was? Her wide brown eyes were fringed with thick dark lashes contrasting richly with her creamy skin. The way she pulled her dark hair severely back from her face combined with the sharply tailored business suits she favoured made the overall impression coldly keep-your-distance professional, not pretty or sexy. Which, he realised, was probably the point.
‘What about Angela? Or is it Emily?’ She flung an exasperated hand up. ‘That temp from Accounts.’
‘I think you must mean Ellie,’ he said. ‘It’s been over for a while. I’ve actually been out of the field myself this past month.’
He didn’t count yesterday’s one-night stand. Extra-short-term flings were the new thing.
She gave an amused sniff.
‘Am I supposed to feel an affinity with that? A month is hardly an abstention, is it? It’s more of a...breather.’
‘OK, so it doesn’t come close to your three-year cold spell,’ he said, ‘but it’s still been a deliberate step back.’
He took a breath, the hassle of the last few weeks zipping spectacularly through his mind in a haze of all-night repetitive phone calls and shredded clothes. Thankfully it seemed to be over now and he’d learned from his mistakes. From now on, clear caveats up front and no letting it run on too long. More than a month seemed to be code for women that moving in together was a realistic next step.
He shrugged. ‘Is it so unbelievable to you that I might want to take you out?’
* * *
Alice stared at him.
Actually, yes. Forgive me for being cautious but I have just discovered I’m the office joke.
‘How come you haven’t asked me out before, then?’ she asked. ‘Why now?’
‘You do have a bit of a...well, a reputation.’ He ran a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it, obviously struggling to put it tactfully.
She tensed. If he dared use the term ‘Ice-Queen’, murder might be on the cards.
‘Oh, really?’ she said.
‘As being a bit aloof. But you must have been asked out before, surely?’
‘A couple of times,’ she said. ‘A firm “no” has always been enough before.’
He grinned.
‘I don’t give up that easily. When I see something I want, I make sure I get it.’
She jumped a little at the muffled ping of the lift outside followed by a flurry of voices and footsteps. Her colleagues, pouring back into the office. She needed to regain her composure if she was going to go back out there. And if she wanted him to keep quiet about her little meltdown just now, it might pay to keep him onside.
Risk-free, he’d said. There was a small part of her that zoomed in on those two words.
Three years and she hadn’t so much as been out for a coffee with a man. She had anticipated the day she agreed to a date again would be some kind of milestone. Broken heart fully healed. Pain resigned to the distant past along with sewer-rat Simon and his photographs. But now it seemed the last three years of swearing off the opposite sex had been totally pointless. She was in exactly the same place now as she had been then—the butt of amused gossip. This time because she didn’t date instead of because she did.
Deep down her stomach twisted into agonising knots at the thought of putting herself back out there again. What the hell was wrong with staying in? She never got behind on any TV shows and it saved her a fortune in clothes.
The thought of going out with someone as dangerous as Harry Stephens was akin to playing with fire. But risk-free, he said.
In the face of the day she’d had, knowing how she was viewed by the entire office, she could see that a date with him might have its merits. She had to do something. Even a stupid ego-boosting date with the office lothario was something if it was done on her terms. And since what she wanted was to prove a point, wasn’t he the perfect choice? High profile in the circles she moved in. Gorgeous. And indiscreet—he wasn’t above dumping his conquests in full view of the office, seeming to revel in his reputation as a player. He’d be bound to tell half the office that he’d been out for a drink with the Ice-Queen. That would throw a spanner in the works of their sad little sweepstake. And she could always back out later if she changed her mind.
She had a choice: end this day as Ice-Queen Ford or accept the offer of a drink and at least be able to tell herself she had a date, no matter that it was with the most unsuitable man in the universe.
‘OK,’ she said impulsively.
He looked momentarily surprised and she realised he hadn’t really expected her to say yes. The idea that she was acting out of character spurred her on even more, offering a stab of what felt like excitement. Except it couldn’t be, because she didn’t do excitement.
Hah! Didn’t expect that, did he? Didn’t expect a yes from Ice-Queen Ford!
To his credit, he collected himself quickly.
‘Great,’ he said. ‘After work?’
The sudden scary reality of what she was doing kicked in and she scrabbled for thinking time.
‘Tonight’s difficult,’ she said. ‘I’m cooking for my flatmate.’ Never mind the fact that slave-to-the-ready-meal Tilly wouldn’t give a damn if she changed her plans.
A muffled laugh from outside the room made her tense. Was this how it was going to be? Thinking every chuckle in the office, every whispered conversation was about her? Enough was enough.
‘I’ll check my diary and let you know,’ she said.
* * *
‘If it bothers you that much—which it must do because it’s all you’ve talked about since you got home—give me one good reason why you aren’t just taking it to the top and getting the whole damn lot of them fired or reprimanded, or whatever it is you do in an office environment?’
Besides sharing a childhood and now a flat with Alice, Tilly sold ethnic jewellery at various markets, dabbled in various other off-the-wall jobs and had an ongoing role as Alice’s voice of reason. Now she pushed her chilli-pepper-red hair out of her eyes and leaned back against the kitchen counter while Alice put dinner together.
‘Because then I’d have to hand this piece of paper over to my boss.’ Alice brandished the betting pool under Tilly’s nose.
Tilly pulled a face.
‘Blimey, he’s not on the list, is he?’
She shook her head. ‘Not as far as I know. Thank goodness. At least there’s one man in the building who isn’t a chauvinist. But it would lead to a big investigation—I’d have to discuss it all in detail. I just can’t face the embarrassment of it all.’
The thought of slipping this piece of paper in front of the CEO filled her with dark horror at the way it portrayed her. Not just the Ice-Queen comment, but the very fact her colleagues were betting on her behaviour. All her hard work to build the perfect corporate image obviously hadn’t cut the mustard with her subordinates. All this time she’d been priding herself on the way her colleagues regarded her. But it was clear from this situation that she didn’t command the slightest bit of respect and revealing that to her boss would only diminish her standing even further. It was like school all over again, picking your way through the years, trying to keep your head below the parapet so you didn’t attract any unwanted attention.
Tilly pursed her lips, considering.
‘You have a point. Plus you don’t want the hideous creeps to think they’ve got to you.’
‘Which they haven’t.’ Alice pointed the wooden spoon emphatically at Tilly, then went back to stirring the chilli con carne.
‘’Course they haven’t, honey. So instead you handle this the only way you can.’
‘Which is?’
‘You have to see it as a sign, use it to your own advantage.’ She waved her fingers in the air in an all-encompassing gesture.
Alice tried not to roll her eyes in exasperation. Did she have to put a mystic slant on everything?
‘For Pete’s sake, Tilly, don’t ask me to see this as some kind of karma, some fatalistic indication from the gods.’
‘Everything happens for a reason,’ Tilly countered.
Alice sighed.
‘OK, then, a sign of what?’
‘That you need to actually do that thing you’re always talking about but never do.’
‘Which is?’
Tilly leaned forward. ‘Get back out there. This whole bet is based on the fact you never so much as go for a drink with a guy. Ever. They see you as some power-suited, uptight workaholic. That’s what they’ve latched on to—that’s the stick they’re beating you with. Well, you’ve licked your wounds long enough. Get back on that dating horse, Ice-Queen, and prove that moronic bunch wrong. Stop procrastinating and go out with this guy from work.’
She folded her arms triumphantly. There were times when Alice wondered how on earth she and Tilly could be such good friends.
‘I’m not ready,’ she protested.
‘You never are. But that’s OK, there is one other option.’
Alice brightened immediately.
‘What’s that?’
‘You could become a nun.’
‘Very funny.’
‘Look, you’ve said you want a family one day. That means at some point you’re going to have to bite the bullet and date again. It might as well be now. This could be just the push you need. And this guy, this Harry, asked you out today.’ She shrugged. ‘So go out with him.’ She winked at Alice. ‘Or I could have a think if you prefer. Julian’s bound to have a few single mates I could set you up with.’
Tilly’s boyfriend, Julian, was a strict vegan who had actually done that experiment whereby if you ceased washing your hair it would eventually cease needing to be washed. The matted result hadn’t convinced Alice to give up the shampoo and conditioner any time soon.
‘Thanks but Julian’s not...’ She groped for a tactful description.
‘Not really your type?’ Tilly grinned. ‘Then go out with this Harry from the office.’
‘But he’s exactly the kind of guy I wouldn’t touch with a bargepole. He’s broken more hearts than you’ve been to music festivals. Harry Stephens: King of the One-night Stand.’
‘Sounds the perfect foil for an Ice-Queen,’ Tilly said, snatching a bread roll from the worktop. ‘And it certainly sounds like he’s into you.’
Alice frowned.
‘I’m not sure he’s exactly into me, as you so classily put it. He offered me his services. As Serial Dater.’
‘As what?’
Tilly looked mystified and Alice couldn’t really blame her. It did sound ludicrous spoken out loud.
‘When I knocked him back on just going out for a drink, he tried to sell it as helping me back into a social life. I think he sees it as some kind of personal glory trip, like he’s mentoring me or something because I’m obviously socially inept. He’s getting off on it, like some kind of dating fairy godfather.’ She put a hand briefly over her eyes. ‘It’s almost too humiliating—the idea that he thinks I would need his input into my social life.’
‘Well, you do,’ Tilly said around a mouthful of bread. ‘I thought that was a given. And you could do worse. A lot easier to start trying out the nightlife, eyeing up the talent, if you’re on the arm of someone at the...you know...hub of it all. He’ll know all the best places to go. You can really get your confidence up instead of sitting on your own in a corner with a mineral water waiting for someone to approach you. Someone totally unsuitable.’
Alice raised offended eyebrows. Tilly jabbed the roll at her.
‘You do have a bit of a history.’
She had to concede Tilly had a point.
Tilly lobbed the remains of the roll in the bin and hoisted herself up to sit on the counter next to the hob.
‘Go on. It’ll be fun. And after this whole betting debacle, what the hell have you got to lose? Can a couple of dates make you feel more of a loser than you already do?’
‘You’re seriously testing our friendship here, you know.’
‘I’m being honest with you like I always am. That’s why you love me!’
Alice stirred the chilli. She had to admit Tilly had a point. Every second of the rest of the day in the office had passed excruciatingly. The bet swamped her mind and she was filled with frustration, hating the fact that she couldn’t face reporting them. Strong Alice Ford, who ate errant juniors for breakfast, couldn’t take a bunch of men to task for messing about in work time at her expense. She had believed herself stronger, more rebuilt than that, and it had crushed her confidence more than she wanted to admit, even to Tilly.
‘What if he’s in on the bet too? Why else would he want to take me out?’
‘Is it really so impossible to believe that he might just find you attractive?’ Tilly said.
‘I’m not the usual kind of girl he goes for.’
Tilly frowned.
‘Maybe he’s upping his game, then. Look, he wasn’t on the list, was he? Are you sure you got a full copy of the names?’
She shook her head.
‘I don’t know... I tore the desk apart looking for a Page Two or, worse, Page Three. That one page is all there was. But I can’t be sure. Even if I asked him he’d deny it.’
Tilly pursed her lips, considering.
‘OK, forget about his motives for a second. Does it even matter whether he’s in on the bet or not? Why not just look at what’s in this for you? Like it or not, you really could do with his input. Don’t you think the insights you could get from dating someone like him, from just watching his behaviour, might be valuable?’
And suddenly there it was.
A flash of inspiration that fell on her like a ton of bricks, a bucket of ice, a jolt of electricity. Not a foolproof way through the minefield that was dating, more an approach to it. One that appealed to her constant desire to be in control, to avoid the pitfalls she’d shown herself to be so susceptible to in the past.
‘Erm, I think that might be burning,’ Tilly said.
Alice suddenly realised the chilli was catching on the bottom and Tilly was staring at her. She shook herself and stirred it vigorously.
‘I could use him to build up a profile,’ she said, thinking out loud.
‘A what?’
She looked at Tilly with sudden excitement.
‘What if I could use him to come up with a behaviour profile? A list of the way players react in certain situations so I can identify that type of man in the future before I get in too deep? I can come up with a list from my own experiences, then test it on Harry. Think about it. Think how much a list like that would have helped me when I was going out with Simon—I would have recognised from the start what kind of man he was and I could have kicked him into touch way before any damage was done.’ And saved myself a whole lot of grief.
‘Harry Stephens is the embodiment of everything I need to avoid in a man.’ She shrugged. ‘Well, except for the chiselled face and super-fit body. He’s the worst kind of player. He has zero regard for the women he takes out but he’s so gorgeous that none of them are able to see past that. I’ve seen enough assistants crying into their coffee over him at work to know that. Well, I can see past that, and I can use him to build myself some dating criteria.’
Tilly was staring at her as if she might be mad.