“Erik?” Martin opens his mouth in surprise, and Erik stands up. The chatter continues around the table. I’m the only one aware of the tension, it seems. They stare at each other, for an instant completely still. I look from one to the other, waiting for a reaction, so nervous I start biting my nails, something I’ve never done before.
They hug, at last, a bit awkwardly, and I exhale.
“Long time, no see!” Martin has a strange smile on his face. “What are you doing here?” He takes a seat, and Erik sits next to me. I put a comforting hand on his leg under the table, doing what a girlfriend would do and realize too late that no one can see my gesture. I remove my hand, blushing.
“He is Sol’s boyfriend,” Lars says as if he still finds it utterly amusing—and wonderful.
“What? Oh! Wow.”
People laugh at his reaction, and the murmur around the table grows louder.
“And the two of you know each other too?” Lars talks to Erik and Martin. According to what Erik told me, Martin got a job at Scorpio after he left.
“Yes, we have worked together,” Erik says, and I look at him, concerned. He keeps a smile on his face that might deceive the others, but not me. I’m aware of the turmoil going on inside him.
“Hmm. Small world.” Lars smiles, sipping his wine. Martin clearly omitted his experience working with Erik from his résumé and neglected to mention it in his job interview at Scorpio. “And what are you doing at the moment, Erik?” Lars asks him.
I hold Erik’s hand on the table to show him my support. I’ve thrown him in the lion’s den, after all.
“I’m working on a personal project.” He squeezes my hand, making butterflies dance in my stomach.
This disorients me. I keep my hand where it is, but it takes all my focus to tell my body to stop reacting to Erik’s touch. This is fake, okay? Fake! I shout at my hormones.
“Oh, is it the same project you left Scorpio to work on?” Lars asks, then quickly adds, “You never told me anything about it. You’ll have to fill me in later, Storm.” He points at Erik with a piece of dark chocolate. “Now let us understand—” Lars’s resonant voice sounds higher than the others “—how did the two of you meet?”
The moment has come. I squeeze Erik’s hand harder, relieving my anxiety. Silence has fallen upon the table, all faces directed at us, dying to hear our story.
I’m opening my mouth to start, but Erik gives my hand two quick squeezes before letting go of it and taking the lead. “Okay, okay, here’s what happened,” he starts, and I lean back in my chair, focusing on my breathing to not freak out. “Sol got my number one day when she was talking to Mark about needing a room—”
“Oh, he told me,” Simon interrupts him.
“Did you find a place, Sol?” Chiara asks. We haven’t talked about that at work since I got Erik’s number. Chiara’s eyes then grow wider, and she opens her mouth with understanding. “Or...are the two of you living together now?”
“Yes, we are,” I say with a shy smile, and the reactions to this make me want to disappear under the table. Everyone is surprised and thinks it’s funny, but Martin’s exclamation is what gets me. And Erik. Especially Erik.
“You get a roommate and immediately start dating her, Erik?”
It’s supposed to be a fun, teasing comment. But they are not intimate enough for this. It’s a provocation, and only I realize it because I know their history, even though I don’t know the whole story.
The look on Erik’s face after what Martin says makes me think he will throw in the towel and end our charade right here. It angers him. It hurts him. But maybe that’s precisely the boost he needs. More fuel for his burning wish to take down his rival.
“Here is where it gets funny,” Erik says, concealing his true feelings so well he easily passes as a carefree extrovert sharing an entertaining story. “Sol and I had met before.”
I try not to frown to avoid giving us away, but I’m wary. Why is he changing the story we rehearsed?
“We actually met through Cinder.” He smiles, anticipating the amused reactions. “I didn’t have my last name there, and my photo was terrible, so old I was barely recognizable.”
“You looked like a bedraggled surfer,” I comment to add more credibility, and some people titter.
Simon agrees it’s time Erik updates his profile photo, which he uses on all his social media accounts.
“And yet, you gave me a like,” Erik remarks, undisturbed.
“I was bored that day,” I tease, and the others laugh at our playful exchange.
“Anyway, we started talking, and we kept chatting on the app for a long time without ever going out. For months...since, what? June?”
“June thirteenth,” I make up a date. “Thank you for forgetting it.”
“I will count our anniversaries from the day you moved in.”
“That’s inaccurate.”
Lars is laughing fondly at us as he drinks his wine, but he interrupts our banter to ask me, “If you had his number, how did you not know it was him renting out the room?”
Erik is the one who answers. “We only talked on Cinder. Sol was Marisol Carvalho in the app. I don’t know why, but I didn’t connect the names.” He taps his forehead with the palm of his hand, reproaching himself. “When she texted me about the apartment, I had no clue it was her, and she had no clue it was me because we hadn’t even heard each other’s voices before. And, you know, there are a lot of people called Erik in Copenhagen.”
I serve wine for both of us, as I see that he needs a dose of alcohol to handle staying in character. After a long sip, Erik continues, “We scheduled a date one day, finally. We had an instant connection...”
Erik drinks up, and I refill his glass. Everyone sees he is preparing to enter an uncomfortably personal part of the story. I hope he stops here. We’ve said enough.
“She went home with me that night...” He lifts one eyebrow when looking at me, and I hide my face behind my hands. Is he seriously going to tell my coworkers details of a sexy night that never happened? I’m faking embarrassment for the sake of entertainment, but I actually don’t want my colleagues picturing me in bed with Erik Storm. I need to make him shut up.
“I think they don’t need to hear more, Erik...” I try, but he ignores my appeal.
“Let them hear the finale, honey.” He strokes my hand, making me breathless.
Goodness. What is happening? Why is he saying these things and smirking in that tricky way? Why is my body so...excited when my mind is on full red alert?
