Chapter 23

23

In an attempt to distance myself from how things imploded with Lloyd, I use some of my precious few days of leave to take a long weekend and visit my family at Gina's parents' place in Devon. As cathartic as it is, the weekend is over too quickly in a blur of good food, card games, long walks, and baking.

I feel an unfamiliar twinge of regret when I'm back in the city and setting my alarm for the morning, but it's not because I'm worried about running into Lloyd—it's because I realize how much I needed that time with my family, away from any and all thoughts of work. It's unnerving to see how quickly I've let Arrowmile consume my life, and I think: Is this really what I've spent my whole life barreling toward headfirst? Is this really what I want the rest of my life to be like?

I do at least get a small reprieve when Tasha is absent from our usual commuting group the next morning. Monty and Dylan ask about my weekend with my family, bursting into peals of laughter when I tell them how I helped Gina's mom bake a cake for her book club. They're reading Twilight, and she insisted that she couldn't make the very predictable red velvet cake.

"?‘Because,' she said, and I quote, ‘There's a vanilla man if ever I saw one.'?"

I don't think they fully believe me until they see the photos on my phone of the sparkly, broody Edward Cullen portrait we painted in icing on a vanilla sponge.

Dylan is laughing so hard he's nursing a stitch in his side. "I can't believe your gran's reading Twilight. Has she watched the films?"

I shrug. "I didn't ask. I haven't seen them. I haven't read the books either—although I don't really feel I need to now. She practically gave me a TED Talk on it."

"They're iconic," Dylan declares. "The films, at least. I mean, that baseball scene? Amazing. Chef's kiss."

I laugh and put away my phone. The glitter on the back of my hand shimmers in the glare of the overhead lights. I don't know what that stuff is made of, but it's as stubborn as all hell and has been stuck there for two days straight.

Next to me, Monty gives a soft, thoughtful huff. I look up to see him frowning at some far-off point on the train. He's holding on to the overhead rail for balance, his arm stretched up in such a way it pulls his shirt up slightly, baring a sliver of toned, pale skin.

"I don't get it."

"What, grannies going gaga over vampires?" Dylan asks. "They are a similar age. I think Edward's, like, ninety, technically."

Monty rolls his eyes. "No, like, the romance stuff. The books and rom-coms and that. All the soppy stuff with flowers and chocolates and big gestures. I don't get the appeal. It's not like it's anything like real life, is it? Nobody acts like that. And I bet if you had someone do all that stuff, you'd get sick of it soon enough."

"Wo-o-o-ow," says Dylan, pulling a face. He's on the verge of laughing again. "Who broke your heart to make you such a cynic?"

"I just mean, it's not a realistic standard. Relationships are about compatibility and cooperation. Not a big dance number or standing outside someone's window with a boom box."

Dylan snorts. "Oh man, I'd pay good money to see you do a big dance number to win some girl over. Maybe that's why you're single, mate, because you haven't done it yet!" He nudges me to laugh along with the joke and join him in the teasing, but…

Well, I agree with Monty, which isn't something I thought I'd ever find myself admitting. We're very different people and I don't think we'd be friends if it wasn't just convenient because we're in the same group, but—he's got a point. An excellent one.

Isn't that more or less what I told Lloyd that first night we met? Love isn't like it looks on-screen, rosy and golden and passionate. Relationships are about work. Compromise.

Something Lloyd and I apparently couldn't do.

"Anna?" Dylan prompts, and I've clearly been silent for toolong.

I shake it off. "I'm kind of on Monty's side here."

Monty looks down at me in surprise, eyebrows shooting up high. "Huh. Really?"

"Really."

He pulls a face, and for a second I think he's amused, that he's laughing at me and is going to mock me. But just as I'm about to scowl and tell him this is the last time I defend him from Dylan's banter, I realize he's simply surprised. He's not the only one; maybe I was a little too quick to judge him at the start of the summer.

I smile back at him, and Dylan's mumbled argument about how we clearly just haven't seen a good rom-com is lost to the conductor's announcement that we are now approaching Victoria. I'm not very sorry to have it end the conversation.

After all, if I'm going to be a bit more careful with my heart, maybe getting into deep conversations about romance and relationships isn't the best way to do it.

—

Before long, I've settled back into the familiar rhythm of reviewing spreadsheets and studying slide decks to write up a report. My team add a few things to my to-do list without asking if I have time to pick them up, but I don't complain.

Being here, amid the bustle of Arrowmile, reminds me why I'm doing this. The glow of pride I get when I send someone an email and see my fancy little sign-off at the bottom of it, the way everyone treats me like a grown-up and not a kid who needs coaching. This is what I want. This is what's going to make all the difference after I finish my degree.

This is why I pushed Lloyd away.

I have to turn down a lunch invite from Elaine and Verity because I'm stuck in meetings, but later in the afternoon, I take a break and head up to the twelfth floor for a change of scenery and to stretch my legs a little. Maybe I'll do a quick wander by Monty and Verity's team to say hi, or see if Freya's at her desk for a chat.

A fresh cup of tea in hand, I wander along the open stretch of office that serves as a corridor. The marketing team are all standing around a whiteboard, noisy and animated. Topher Fletcher's glass-walled office is on the right-hand side, near the client management team; the HR department sit just beyond them, in the far corner.

Some of the desks in this section are deserted, and the muffled voices in a nearby meeting room suggest that's where everyone is. The blinds are shut over the glass walls for privacy.

I spot Verity at her desk, but she's got a headset on and is nodding seriously along to something—presumably in a meeting. She catches my eye and gives me a quick smile and wave, but carries on with her call. In the seat beside her, Monty's also wearing headphones, although he's got the microphone attachment twisted up and away from his mouth and is slumped in his chair, swiveling it side to side while he pays more attention to something on his computer than the meeting. Verity's wave catches his attention and he looks over too, offering a nod in my direction.

A few desks away, Freya is talking to Topher's PA, both of them looking at something on the PA's computer. Freya is holding her phone like she might be taking notes, but I'm not sure. She and the PA are chatting and smiling, so I can't be sure if it's a serious conversation or they're just looking at an article about the new Love Island bombshells who entered the villa last night. I linger for a moment, trying to work it out, not wanting to interrupt just in case.

"Looking for someone?"

I jump, almost spilling my tea.

There, less than arm's length away, is Lloyd.

My heart gives a little somersault in my chest, the traitor.

There's something off about him, and it takes me a second to realize that it's his smile. It's smaller, gentler, close-lipped. There's something cautious and guarded about it. It's not the kind of smile I'm used to seeing from him—especially around the office.

"Not you," I blurt, and cringe at how nasty it sounds. "Um, just, uh—I thought I'd say hi to the others. I missed them at lunch."

Lloyd nods slowly, a knowing gleam in his eyes. His mouth twists slightly into something more like a smirk, like he wants to make some comment about me focusing on my job over everything else. I feel a prickle of annoyance, a flush creeping up my neck, at how easily he sees through me.

I thought he was supposed to be the open book, not me.

"Looks like they're busy, though, so, I'll just…go," I say.

And yet, my feet don't move.

He nods again, and when I still don't move, he says, "You weren't in the last few days. I didn't realize you were…You didn't say you were going somewhere."

He noticed. Was it because he tried to message me on Teams and saw I was away? Did he try to email me and see my out-of-office? Had he come by my desk to pester me with some Arrowmile-related questions? Had he missed me, when he realized I was gone?

My mind spirals through the questions, my heart rate picking up slightly, and I force myself to stop, to calm down. I'm not going to get giddy over the fact that he simply noticed I wasn't here. Anybody could've; it's not a big deal. And it's not like I wanted him to notice; I'm not trying to play games.

Haven't I made it clear already that we can't be anything more to each other?

Polite and civil, though. Like colleagues, and colleagues would have a casual conversation and say: "Yeah. It was kind of a last-minute decision. Some of my family are in Devon at the moment, so I went to see them. My stepmom had to work, so she couldn't make it, but it was nice to see my dad and brothers."

"Right—perks of being a teacher, having all the holidays off." I shouldn't be so surprised that Lloyd remembers what my dad does. He smirks, looking more playful—more like himself now. "And here we are, wasting our actual summers off school, stuckhere."

"More fool us."

There's a beat, and it's too long. Like my words have more meaning than I intended. Like I'm talking about something bigger than a summer spent at an internship instead of home with friends.

Maybe I am.

The pause seems to solidify, calcifying around us with a tension so thick it feels harder to breathe than it did a second ago. It's a clear sign that I do need to go, before things get too weird.

I've barely shifted back a step when a voice suddenly says, "Not haranguing the poor interns are you, Lloyd? He's not making a nuisance of himself is he, Anna?" It's Nadja, senior client partner and Monty and Verity's intimidating boss. She's standing just behind us with a large hardback notebook and laptop tucked against her chest. Her lipstick is deep mauve, her lips pulled into a teasing sort of smile as she arches an eyebrow at us, the smirk taking the edge off her typically stern gaze. I'd normally be glad that someone else thinks Lloyd is a nuisance, but it's clear she's joking; there's affection in her admonition.

It's only at Nadja's interruption that I become aware of the fact that the meeting behind closed doors and blinds in the nearby room has finished. People are spilling out into the office, chattering among themselves. Nadja, I guess, was one of them.

I look back at her and deadpan, "He really is."

Nadja laughs. I notice that Lloyd's usual "office" smile is back—mouth wide and open, showing off straight bright-white teeth, oozing charm. He rolls his eyes as if he's in on the joke.

"Says you," he quips at me, "loitering around up here—it's not even your part of the office."

"Says both of you, loitering in the middle of the office," Nadja snips, but then she gives a dry chuckle. Her eyes linger on me a moment. "Cute necklace."

I touch my necklace instinctively. It's a gold one with pressed flowers that Gina bought for me on the recent family trip to Spain that I missed out on. "Thanks."

"How'd it go?" Lloyd asks Nadja, nodding in the direction of the room that's just emptied out. He turns serious suddenly, a sharp look of concentration he gets from time to time when I talk to him about updates on some of Arrowmile's projects. I guess it wasn't just some run-of-the-mill management meeting, then—it must have been important if he wasn't allowed to sit in on it. I want to ask what it was about, but I don't want to seem rude. I'm sure if it's that important, it'll filter down as office gossip at some point.

"Promising," is Nadja's reply. "Looks like we're moving on to the next stage, anyway." Then, turning to me, she explains, "We were approached by a company about a bit of a partnership. Did you know most safety tests are done with male specs?"

"Um…" I hesitate.

"I'll take that as a no. There's a great study about it; I'll send it to you. You'll love it."

Add to to-do list: read this study Nadja is going to send, in case she questions me about it next time I run into her.

"Typically, offices are set to temperatures more comfortable for men. Things are sized to the average male body. Male safety dummies are used in tests for things like vehicle safety. Outrageous, isn't it, Anna? Well, we'll be—hopefully, not official yet, of course—doing a limited run of electric cars specifically tailored to the average female body, using safety dummies based on the average female body. It'll be part awareness-raising campaign—"

"Part cash grab," Lloyd adds, sounding less than impressed. "It's just some eccentric CEO who wants to be seen doing something, rather than because they actually care. "

Nadja pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out a long-suffering sigh. " Just some eccentric CEO. Honestly, Lloyd. She's a Time 100! She was on This Morning with Alison Hammond for International Women's Day this year! Anna, don't pay him any attention—this woman's the real deal. Absolutely incredible. Real powerhouse. First female CEO at some furniture company, then she went on to a high-profile role with a media company, and now she's got her own consultancy. She also runs a networking collective for young female entrepreneurs. She'd love to meet you, I bet! Oh, actually, we should see if she'll do a bit of a meet and greet with all you interns. I'm sure she will. Remind me to set that up, Anna. Come on, let me introduce you."

It's all said so rapidly, with such force and excitement, that even if I could get a word in edgeways, I'm too overwhelmed to respond. Nadja grasps me by the elbow and whisks me around, frog-marching me a few strides to where Topher Fletcher stands with his usual approachable smile, talking to a tall woman with red hair.

Even though her back is to us, the highlight reel Nadja just gave me sinks in and brings with it a curdling dread that tingles up my spine. My heart is in my throat and all I can do is stare at the back of this stranger, hoping against hope that when she turns around…

"Sorry to interrupt! Kathryn, I just wanted to introduce you to one of our interns, thought it might be a good opportunity. This is—"

And the woman turns around, pleasant surprise quickly replacing the open shock on her face.

And Mom interrupts Nadja to say, "Annalise!"