‘Okay, whatever. We’ve got more pressing things to discuss anyway.’ I’d been waiting for the right moment to pounce on this, and now felt as good a time as any.
All four of them looked at me expectantly.
‘How’s the dating going, Rory?’ I narrowed my eyes at my best friend, trying to communicate that I was not happy to have been left out of the loop.
It wasn’t often that you caught Rory off guard, but he looked like a deer in the headlights.
‘How did you –’
Maeve held up her hands, clearly assuming that she’d let the cat out of the bag and not my brother, who was looking extremely relieved. ‘Guilty. But I was blinded by heartbreak, so I can’t be held responsible for my actions.’
I watched Rory’s face flicker almost imperceptibly with betrayal. ‘Traitor.’
He didn’t elaborate, choosing to focus on the beermat in front of him, tearing it up into tiny pieces. After all his criticism of my dating approach, here he was, staying silent.
‘So …’ I waved my arms in front of him. ‘Come on. Share with the group.’
He exchanged a look with Maeve, and there it was again. That sinking feeling of being on the outside of something.
‘I’ve been seeing this girl, Maisy, for a few weeks. It’s nothing major.’ He shrugged it off. ‘Just dipping my toe back in again, seeing what Level has to offer.’
So he had chosen to download the app, even after he’d said he wasn’t in the right headspace. What had changed his mind?
Isla pounced. ‘And what is she like? We need details.’
I watched him squirm, cheeks flushed and so far from the usual Rory performance. ‘She’s a vet. Really cool, chilled.’
A vet? Really cool? Chilled? It felt like a dig somehow. No one in the history of Penny Webber had ever called me chilled. There was a slightly awkward silence.
Maeve stepped in to break it. ‘Well, I’ve met her, and she seemed lovely. Gorgeous red hair. Who wants another drink?’ She stood up. ‘Rory, help me?’
She all but dragged him away to order with her, immediately putting an arm around him and whispering something in his ear. What the hell? If he was dating someone, then I had definitely misread our body language at the bar. I was losing my mind. The other two seemed none the wiser, launching into a conversation about table runners. I kept my eyes on Rory. What was going on?
14
I stared down at my unopened message. This was exactly what I’d been afraid of.
Maeve met me at the sink and I passed her the toothpaste, the Hello Kitty toothbrush that she’d bought me as a joke already in my mouth. ‘Ticks can’t turn blue out of sheer willpower, you know. He’ll text back, I promise.’
I didn’t say anything, my mouth full of minty suds. But also, because I didn’t trust myself not to say something completely miserable. Isla had told me we were supposed to be ‘nurturing Maeve’s persistent optimism’, which was code for ‘Penny, stop saying every man is trash’.
‘Pen?’ Maeve put her hand over mine where it was gripping the sink.
I spat. ‘I’m fine, I’m fine. In the grand scheme of things, thirty-six hours is not that long.’
Maeve winced before soldiering on.
‘This paranoia is a bit rich, coming from someone who once left me on read for a whole week.’
Now it was my turn to wince. ‘It was one time. And you were in the Caribbean!’
The bright side of Maeve’s parents not being able to settle anywhere for longer than a few years – the reason Maeve’s accent was a complete non-accent – was that she’d spent many a Christmas Day on the beach. Webber Christmases, on the other hand, could be total chaos. Particularly after Mum’s friend Angela had started tagging along, children, ex-husband, and now grandchildren in tow. There had been no time for texting, it had been all hands on deck.
‘Luckily for you, forgiveness is essential for psychologists.’
I didn’t buy this. ‘Adrian?’
Her expression darkened. ‘He’s still on my hit list. Aren’t you late for work?’
‘I’m going to say you had a crisis and I had to delay. Don’t tell Rory otherwise.’ I moved into the kitchen and started packing my laptop into my bag, grabbing a banana and a Trek bar.
‘Telling the truth is also essential.’ She followed me in. ‘Go, and don’t stress. You know when you’re next seeing Isaac. He’s probably just busy with work. God knows you can relate to that.’
I sighed. ‘Fine, I’ll ignore the obvious evidence and tell myself he’s busy. Happy?’
She nodded. ‘Besides, you’ll ruin the third-date sex if you overthink this.’
Oh God. Third-date sex. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had to get a razor out in preparation for one of those. Not that I had any obligation to do that. Was it a better statement to leave the razor gathering dust in my cupboard? Yet another pointless thought that would circle around my mind during work today. I wasn’t entirely sure this was a dilemma I could bring to a board meeting. Andrew would go into cardiac arrest if we strayed from budget to bikini lines.
Maeve poured us both a coffee. ‘Anyway, even if Isaac is a loser, you still have the best housemate in all of London. See you later? I was thinking I might make tacos.’
I grabbed the sugar, dumping heaped teaspoons into my travel mug.
‘Music to my ears. I’ll bring the guac.’
***
As soon as I walked into the office and was met with an enthusiastic round of applause, I knew something was going on. I definitely hadn’t spilled coffee down my white shirt, I’d checked (it happened often enough that a daily check in the mirror in the lift was essential), so it had to be something else.
