No Ordinary Bloke (8 page)

I
t wasn't the first time. I’d been rejected by women before. No one could win them all, but this was the first time a rejection felt like I’d lost—not lost like she was a prize I didn’t get, but lost like something I’d cherished was no longer mine.

After she left me at the bar, I paid the tab, cashed in my chips, and walked back to my hotel. There was no need to take a cab. I wasn’t in a hurry, and I didn’t want to risk unwanted conversation with a cabbie. I was in too heated of a debate with myself to talk with anyone else. Should I call her? Should I not? If I call her, what should I say? Should I apologize?

I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of Singapore the next day. I hoped that distance and passing time would rid me of her, and a few days later, life was doing that for me. Enough work, beer, and football could numb any wound. Then my cousin called, and the bastard just dragged me through the mud again.

“Last time I saw you, you were admiring that redhead? Did anything come of that?”

Adam was younger than me by a couple of years, and all my life I’d given him advice about girls. It was true that if it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t be with his lovely wife today. Now what was up was down, and what was down was up. Life had gone all pear-shaped, and I needed to ask Adam what to do. I sighed, “I’ll tell you the whole sodding story.”

I really didn’t tell him the entire story, not the way two women can dissect every bit of conversation one of them has with a man. I only gave Adam enough information so he could see what I was dealing with. He was quiet until I finished, and simply said, “Blimey. You’ve taken a real fancy to her.”

“I don’t think I’d go that far…”

“Bollocks. You just spent more time talking about this Allison than you usually spend on all the women you’ve shagged in an entire year. I’d say you’ve taken a shine to her.”

“No, I haven’t. I just don’t like how things ended.”

“Because you didn’t get laid?”

“No!” I ran my hand through my hair in frustration. “Because I don’t want her thinking that I was only spending time with her for sex.”

“You realize what you just said only reinforces my initial assumption that you care for her.”

I took the phone away from my ear and silently yelled at it. Adam always had been smarter than me, and I didn’t like being reminded. When I put the phone back to my ear, I was calmer. “Yes, if what you’re saying is I’m genuinely interested in her, then I am. So what should I do? Should I call her?”

“No. Not that.”

“Why? And if not, what then?”

Adam groaned. “I don’t want to sound like a downer, but I can tell you from my time as a journalist that telephones are not the route to a genuine conversation. It needs to be in person.”

“What if she won’t see me?”

“David, I have full confidence in your abilities to convince a woman you only want to talk when you really want something more.”

Thank God I hadn’t lost my mind by the time I strode into the Greystone building in Midtown Manhattan later that month. Business was still my primary purpose as I walked across the lobby’s marble floor with one of Barclay’s brilliant analysts, Declan McCabe. My goal for the day was to move along the deal that my team had been batting around with the Greystone for the last few months. Seeing Allison again was another priority for the day, but because I had no way of knowing if she was even in the office, it might all be for bloody naught. Regardless, I kept telling myself that the day’s success would be determined by the outcome of my business meeting, not anything to do with her.

As Declan and I sat in the swanky conference room waiting for the meeting to begin, he craned his neck, admiring the expansive view of New York City. Though Declan was a fine bloke and we were just passing time, that morning I didn’t have much interest in his take on whether the New York Yankees were to American baseball what Arsenal was to English football. Instead, I wondered what Trey might say or if he knew of my time with Allison in Singapore. We’d had a brief interaction on a group conference call the week before, but he made no mention of it.

The crack of an opening door caused Declan and me to stand and pay attention. In walked Trey, followed by his team—Helen, an analyst who seemed to know everything about everything and rarely talked, and Blake, an analyst who knew nothing about anything and who wouldn’t shut up. I always wondered who was paid more.

Bringing up the rear was Trey’s assistant, Melanie. Her job had to be much different than that of my assistant. Elinor stayed in her own office and kept my work and life in order. Melanie seemed to serve as Trey’s shadow. She was in every meeting and on every call with him, with an earpiece in her ear while she furiously typed away on her laptop. Looking at her now, I saw she was cute—very cute in fact—and very young.

When Trey walked up to me, he was all cordial smiles with his perfect white teeth and slicked back silver hair. “David!” he said, extending his hand. “Wonderful to see you again. Welcome.”

“Thank you.” I shook his hand. “I hope you’ve been doing well.”

“I have.” He crossed his arms and stood at ease. “And how funny is it that you’re now friends with Allison?”

“Yes, indeed.” I’d already planned my next line just in case he brought her up. “She was kind enough to gamble with Lewis Chan and me.”

“That’s what I heard. She said you let them win.”

“Not really. They didn’t need any help from me.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that at all.” He gave me an unwelcome pat on the back, and his American accent became even more pronounced and grating. “I told Allison that when a guy like you gambles, you know what you’re doing. In the kind of neighborhood you’re from, you were probably gambling before you ever rode a bike.”

And that was when I knew that he understood exactly what I had been up to with his girlfriend. You see, no one from a bad neighborhood ever needs or wants to be told how rotten their neighborhood is. It’s fine for you or your friends from the place to go on about it, but you don’t want to hear one word about it from a wanker toff like Trey. The man was jerking my chain.

I wasn’t going to bloody well confirm for him that I did indeed learn how to play dice before I learned to ride a bike. That said, there was power to be had in playing into someone’s prejudices about you. I turned on the cockney. “Ah, me old man had me playing cards when I was still in short pants.”

“See! That’s what I said.” He was gleeful and patted my back again. “Really though. Thanks for showing her around. I appreciate it. All this travel is new for her.”

“She was fine without me, but it was nice to meet her.” I left it at that. There was business to be done, but I also was going to use the time to figure out my next move. I checked my watch and said, “So shall we get started?”

“Absolutely,” said Trey. Glancing around the rest of the staff who were still shaking hands, he raised his voice. “Welcome, everyone. How about we take a seat and get to work?”

The meeting went on without another hitch. We made great progress on the parameters of merging two flailing manufacturing companies. They were both dogs, but put together they might have a chance. After we set up the roadmap for the merger, Trey went off on some new project of his to raise private funds for a dam somewhere in the American desert. The project seemed riddled with financial and environmental risk, so I zoned out.

It was a good time for me to make my plans about Allison. I decided if the cat was out of the bag, then I had no choice but to try to steal her away from Trey under his nose. In fact, I wanted to have his permission to do so.

Two and a half hours later, our meeting wound down. Helen, the poor thing, hurried out, most likely to go eat at her desk while she worked. Blake invited Declan out to an Irish pub, and Declan was such a good guy he didn’t even say no. I had to wait a moment before I could ask my question of Trey because he and Melanie were in a whispering match. I cleared my throat. “Pardon me, Trey, I know you’re busy.”

“So sorry,” he said, turning away from Melanie. “What can I help you with?”

“Is Allison in today?”

“Yes, as far as I know.”

“Would it be all right with you if I took her out for lunch? She actually saved me from a big mistake when we played blackjack. I owe her one.”

There was no trace of malice or concern on Trey’s face. Old Trey was a pro. He was on to me, but he didn’t care. Either it was because he thought he was smarter than me and could outwit me or he trusted Allison so completely he knew I’d fail. Whatever the reason, he immediately reacted. “Sure! Go ahead. She’d love it.” He nodded to Melanie. “I’m actually taking Melanie out for her birthday today.”

“Happy birthday, Melanie,” I said with a smile.

“Thanks,” she said before she beamed at Trey and then went back to her speed typing on her laptop.

“Melanie, we really should get going,” Trey said, standing up. It sent Melanie into a scurry as she hastily put away files and her computer. He turned to me. “I’m taking Melanie to Lark as a treat. I’d suggest you take Allison there—she loves it, but I can’t imagine you can get in this late. You’d have to be the prime minister to finagle that.”

I kept my smile frozen because Trey was being a complete arsehole. Yes, Lark was a nice restaurant where reservations were difficult to come by, but I could always get a table. The maître d' was a mate of mine. “No worries,” I said with a shrug. “We’ll find a spot to eat.”

“I’m sure you will.” He shook my hand one more time. “Allison’s office is on the fifth floor. Tell her hi.”

As he and Melanie left the room, there were more whispers back and forth. Too many whispers, in fact. There was something not right about that, but I wasn’t sure what. I did know that if I ever asked Elinor if she wanted to go to a place like Lark for her birthday, she’d politely decline. It just wasn’t the kind of place you took your assistant. Hell, I never took any assistant to lunch no matter what the occasion. I always assumed they’d prefer a card with a fifty quid note instead. I would.

Ten minutes later, I’d found my way to the fifth floor. The offices were nice, though less swank than the floor Trey resided on. This space was more utilitarian, the kind of place you’d design for your HR department. I asked someone where Allison Wright’s office was, and he pointed me to the end of the hall and said her assistant sat outside.

When I arrived at the hall’s end, Allison’s door was closed, and her assistant spoke before I could. “Excuse me,” she said in a distinct New York accent. “Can I help you?”

I saw a twenty-something brunette with thick glasses through which she eyed me suspiciously. “Hello,” I said, approaching her cubicle in the open area. When I reached her tidy desk, I extended my hand. “My name is David Bates. I’m with Barclays. I was hoping to catch Allison Wright.”

The assistant cocked her head as if something was unusual. Maybe people didn’t normally shake her hand, because she stared at the one I offered her. Eventually, she gave it a light shake. “Hi. I’m Paulina Reyes, Allison’s assistant. She’s on the phone right now. Is she expecting you?”

“She’s not expecting me.” I smiled, hoping to crack Paulina’s ice. “Rather rude of me to come unannounced and without an invitation, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think it’s rude. It’s just…risky.” She looked at her computer monitor which had to show Allison’s schedule. “I think she’s booked most of the day.”

“Does she have lunch plans?”

“She always has plans for lunch.”