I liked the way he said my name – drawing out the ‘Y’ so that it sounded more lyrical, and less like your neighbour’s cockapoo (which was a comparison that one of my bad dates had made, believe it or not.)
I decided to bite the bullet – maybe we’d be laughing about this in years to come, bringing it up as a funny story at our own wedding, the type of anecdote that was destined for a speech. Rory had already pocketed an anecdote about Isla thinking that a hamstring was a type of sandwich for his upcoming best man duties.
‘I guess I’m kind of confused about the flowers.’
Daniel smiled. ‘Roses and sunflowers.’
I snorted. ‘Not what they were, just … How did you find out where I worked?’
There was a second of silence before Daniel burst out laughing. ‘Penny, did you think I was stalking you?’
‘Why are you saying it in the past tense? I still do.’
He set down his Americano. ‘I was intrigued by you at the event, so I asked at reception. Said I’d been chatting to you and was interested in making a connection. They thought I meant business, but what harm is a little white lie?’
I couldn’t help it, I flushed involuntarily. ‘And they just gave up that confidential information, did they?’
He tried, and failed, to suppress a smile, before moving on. ‘I’m pretty sure that we were all meant to be wearing those ridiculous name tags anyway, it’s just that I resisted, and you probably lost yours somewhere on your journey from sober to very, very drunk.’
I blushed again, but this time not because he’d been flirting.
‘Any more questions to rule out my potential stalker tendencies?’ He clasped his hands on the table. ‘I’m an open book, Penny, quiz me until you’re blue in the face.’
I was pretty sure I believed him. Somewhere early on in my memory of the evening, I could recall Ella chucking name tags in our direction before she swanned off to mingle. If I remembered correctly, I’d dropped mine into a plant pot on my way to the ladies.
I took a big mouthful of coffee, buying myself time. ‘I don’t know what you expected me to think.’
He smirked. ‘I expected you to think “how romantic, the guy I snogged in a conference hall has sent me sunflowers and roses”.’
‘I’ve been told that I’m an incredibly sceptical person.’
‘Which makes perfect sense, given your career choices.’
We were playing a verbal game of tag, and I couldn’t deny that I was enjoying it.
‘It takes a sceptical person to create a dating app that doesn’t have any of the bullshit in it.’ Not that this theory stretched to Rory, who always erred on the side of optimism. We were yin and yang, a perfect match.
Daniel nodded. ‘I haven’t used Level, but I’ve heard about it. It’s a good idea. I bet your marketing team have had a field day with the concept.’
He’d clearly done his background research.
‘So, would you?’
He took the beat to lift his mug to his lips again. Very nice-looking lips. If I remembered correctly, extremely soft lips, not like the higher-than-acceptable percentage of the male population who thought that they were above Vaseline.
‘Would I what?’
‘Use my dating app.’
‘Well, that depends, Penny.’ He gave an almost-laugh.
‘On what?’
‘Whether you’d definitely be one of my matches. I have a feeling we could have a lot of fun together.’
I grinned down at the dregs of my latte. If I was completely honest, I’d come here under false pretences. But now that I was here, I wasn’t having an awful time.
‘Well, that also depends.’
He leaned closer. ‘On what?’
‘Whether you’re planning on sending bouquets to any of my other undisclosed addresses.’
‘Just the one.’ He patted his pockets. ‘Turns out sunflowers aren’t as cheap as they were when I got my first girlfriend a bunch from M&S in sixth form.’
‘You haven’t bought a bunch of flowers since sixth form?’
Daniel leaned back in his chair. ‘You don’t give a man a second to breathe, do you?’
I tucked my hair behind my ear, smiling. ‘Let’s just say my quota of naivety is up for the year. Hence the getting hammered at a work event.’
‘Ah, I see. Well, his loss. It certainly worked out well for me that night.’ He paused. ‘That is, until your business partner waded in.’
A flash of protectiveness hit me. This was clearly my ‘fuck it’ man. My rebound into the world of not taking things too seriously. But I wasn’t going to throw Rory under the bus, regardless of the things he wasn’t telling me. I changed the subject.
‘You’ve clearly done your homework on me. Why were you there that night?’
It had dawned on me sometime during our conversation that I actually knew nothing about this man. He knew where I worked, how many sugars I took in my coffee, and had met my business partner (if not under slightly fraught circumstances). The split between us wasn’t equal, and it was bothering me.