Page 14 of Little Miss Fortune

‘So...’ he says, stretching the o to its limit. ‘About the club.’

‘It’s honestly fine. We don’t have to talk about it.’

I really would prefer we didn’t.

‘I really don’t know how to express how sorry I am.’

He is wearing a simple work shirt and a casual blazer. Not a hint of bold fashion taste, which Sashka and Leon informed me was an authentic Versace. Shows how little I know about the capital L luxury world. His hair is cut short, blond in the fluorescent lights of the office, but now in the sun, some ginger red is coming through. If you look closely, there are some freckles around his nose. It’s a nice nose.

‘It’s honestly fine. We really don’t have to talk about it,’ I say again.

We enter the building that is saved as my work address on my map app. A pine fresh scented cleaner fills my nose. The floor-to-ceiling windows let me see the quarter-zips and chinos that I used to make fun of but that now welcome me in a tight corporate embrace. The skyscrapers reflect the early morning sun, stacking on top of each other forming a ladder. A career ladder up which I’m about to take my first step.

I want to take it in, feel like, despite my luck, I will not be a bum to society any longer.

This is just the beginning.

‘I just really wouldn’t have rubbed myself all over you if I’d known it was you,’ Toby whispers in my ear sincerely and apologetically.

The moment is gone. I go to the reception and ask for my ID badge. They check the name and ask me a couple of security questions. I try not to glare at Toby Lewis, but him jumping out of my way suggests that maybe my face betrayed me.

As I tap my ID card on the lift, a little giddy excitement squeaks in my throat from having my face and name be used on a tool that opens the metal carriage’s doors. Toby gingerly walks in and presses the Close button.

‘Alexandra seems nice.’ He shrugs his shoulders like a schoolboy.

Alexandra? Only her parents call her that.

I look at him. His brow is quizzically raised. I guess we are talking about it.

‘Yeah, she really is,’ I agree and then realise something that my drunken/high mind never thought about. ‘Were you at the club by yourself?’

‘No, I was with a friend, but she saw someone she fancies and left me alone.’

The blonde girl that left with the man with the cleanest of fades, perhaps. Was Toby there looking to hook up as well?

My mind flashes how his hands felt on my hips. His cologne is filling the lift. A slight shiver runs down my spine when I hear him open his mouth to ask a question.

‘Would it be weird if I asked her for a coffee?’

Me? My eyes round in complete surprise.

Oh, he is talking about Sashka.

Woah. What are you thinking, Fuko? That was weird.

Sashka and Toby. She asked me to feel him out.

I collect myself for a moment before giving him my answer. ‘No, I don’t think so. But like... can I be frank?’

‘Of course, but I think Fuko suits you more.’

The amusement is intertwined with annoyance at myself for finding it funny, but my genuine need to convey my thoughts to him overrides both. ‘Please don’t be a wanker with her. She deserves the best after everything that happened to her. Even if it’s the first date and you are not feeling it, just be normal about it. But if you are feeling it—be clear. Just...’ I take a deep breath. ‘Please, please, please, don’t be a dick.’

The doors open, and I step out. Toby is deep in thought, dragging behind me. I don’t know what he could possibly be thinking, but he looks as if he is really considering everything, from Plato to Sunday Times crosswords, on whether it is possible for him not to be a massive penis regarding my best friend. ‘All right, I’ll ask her for Saturday.’

‘Attaboy.’

I walk out of the lift too quickly.