He moved me gently out of the way of a disgruntled woman trying to get past. ‘I think we should probably stop blocking the ladies’ bathroom.’
I flushed. ‘Great idea. Let’s go before my publicist hunts me down.’
In the back of my mind I knew this was unfair to Harriet. All she’d done all night was try and give me the pep talk I probably needed. She was a good friend. I hoped I remembered to tell her that in the morning.
Daniel guided me over to a secluded sofa tucked in an alcove, away from prying eyes. ‘Publicist? You must be a big shot.’
My cheeks reddened yet again. ‘Sorry, she’s Head of Comms for my business, not me. I’m Penny, I work at –’
I prepared the business spiel. That was what we were here for, after all.
Daniel interrupted. ‘Can I propose an alternative?’
Luckily for him, the copious amounts of alcohol had mellowed me out. Sober Penny would not have stood for that interruption.
‘Let’s not talk about business. Let’s just be Penny and Daniel.’ He clinked his glass against mine. ‘How does that sound?’
‘What makes you think you know me well enough for us to be “Penny and Daniel”?’ I narrowed my eyes, suspicious.
‘Okay, correction. Let’s just be Penny’ – he held out his left hand – ‘and Daniel.’ His right hand mirrored the other, and I forced myself to tear my eyes away from his forearms. And his long fingers.
He pressed on. ‘It’s exhausting, having to open up every conversation with a LinkedIn bio.’
I knew what he meant. Especially tonight when all I really wanted was to forget about Level. I eyed Daniel’s hand again, which was now held out to me for the second time in ten minutes.
‘Okay.’ I shook it. ‘But only because I know a good business deal when I hear one.’
‘Attagirl.’ He took a gulp from his glass, putting his hand on my knee. ‘Tell me something about you that isn’t about work.’
I thought hard for a second before landing on exactly the right anecdote. ‘Ever since I was in sixth form, I’ve had this phobia of getting appendicitis in the middle of the night.’
It was true. One of the girls on my English course had missed our morning lesson, and by lunchtime she’d texted her friends and the news spread like wildfire. You could just wake up in the middle of the night with a burning appendix out of nowhere? New fear unlocked. I tried to let rationale guide me in most areas of my life, but that was freaky.
Daniel was silent for a second, processing the story before bursting into genuine laughter. ‘That was incredibly niche. Well done. Weird fear, but well done.’
I tried not to feel disgruntled. When I’d told that to Rory during freshers’ week, he’d immediately understood.
He gestured for me to move closer. ‘Okay, my turn. This one is really juicy.’
I found myself leaning in so that he was almost whispering in my ear. ‘I’m 29, and I’ve never ridden a bike.’
I pulled back. ‘Never?’ I was always incredibly sceptical of people who said this. Most people had been plonked on a bike with training wheels between the ages of 4 and 6.
‘Never. It’s too late now, I fear. I’m going to be the man who can’t ride a bike forever.’
‘Alternatively, you could just choose a different anecdote, avoid bikes, and no one would ever be any the wiser. I can’t remember the last time it was necessary for me to ride a bike. Unless you’re planning on entering a triathlon anytime soon.’
Daniel nodded. ‘You’re right. I’m just an attention whore.’
I snorted. There was something about this man that was completely unexpected. I probably wouldn’t ever see him again after tonight, but maybe that was the whole point. Maybe after a month of bad dates and disappointment, I just needed someone who could remind me what a connection felt like.
‘I like your hair.’ He twirled one of my waves around his index finger. ‘Gives you a sort of wild look.’
If I had a pound for every time a man at a bar had used that line on me, I could sack off my career in app development. I said as much.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, are my chat-up lines not original enough for you?’
I took his glass from him, finishing it since mine was empty. ‘Not nearly original enough, sorry.’
What I wanted to say was that I’d been around dating apps long enough to know every possible chat-up line in the single-man-repertoire. But I held back, given our deal. I was mysterious Penny tonight.
‘Does that mean you’re trying to chat me up?’ I bit back a smile, watching his expression turn to surprise.
‘Well, it’s not what I expected when I was forced here tonight by my team’ – he took my chin in his hand gently – ‘but it’s a happy accident, I must admit.’
I knew a first kiss when I saw one, and I felt something coil in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t been kissed once in the last year, and now here I was kissing two men in the space of a few weeks. Whoever was writing my story was having the time of their life.
‘A very happy accident,’ I murmured against his lips before he finally took the plunge, and I melted into the feeling of his mouth moving against mine. His hand traced up my thigh, moving dangerously close to places that definitely weren’t appropriate for a corporate mixer.
‘What the hell are you playing at?’
Rory’s voice cut through the kiss, and the alcohol, and I yanked myself away from Daniel. My best friend was standing over us, Harriet behind him, and he looked pissed.
18
As far as I could remember, there had only been three times in our eight years of friendship that Rory had been mad at me. Like really mad. The first, when Maeve and I had locked ourselves out of our uni house, leaving all three of us sat on the doorstep in the middle of the night. We’d both been wearing short skirts and flimsy T-shirts – high on the rare August heat and forgetting that summer nights were not comparable – and Rory had given up his jacket, laying it over our legs and sitting in a huff for the whole hour it took for one of our other housemates to get back from their own night out.
The second time had been in the early stages of our partnership, when we’d reached a stalemate over one of the components of the programming. I’d been steadfast in the belief that our app should be completely blind (no names, no bio – nothing) and Rory had stood firm that the only element that really mattered when it came to a blind match was the photos. At least, the only element that might get us a shot at funding. Mine had been a stupid idea, but I’d sat stubborn on the concept for weeks, and we’d tiptoed around each other long enough to question whether the whole thing – and our budding partnership – was a dud idea. Our cold front had ended with Rory caving and letting me run with it, only for me to come back to him a week later with an apology and my tail between my legs.
