name?’
‘I always give false names to men I pick up on ferries. That way if I don’t want to see them again, it’s easy to avoid them.’ She flashed me a charming smile and I could almost have forgiven her then and there. Her words sunk in. I didn’t want this conversation to be light-hearted anymore. I wanted answers.
‘Are you really telling me you didn’t want to see me again?’
‘That’s not what I said,’ Lilah corrected me carefully. ‘I said I gave you a false name in case I didn’t want to see you again. We did have a really great night together.’
‘Now you’re lawyering me.’
‘Callum,’ she sighed impatiently. ‘I am really not the relationship type. I thought it would be like ripping off a band-aid—over within an instant.’
The day was far too beautiful for a potentially painful conversation like this one, but even more than that, I’d noticed the beauty of it. For too long I’d gone through the motions, days and weeks and months and maybe years blurring into one another in a monotony. And yet this day was different to the one before it; the cycle of sameness had been shattered. I wanted to point these things out to Lilah and impress her with the depth of my thoughts. Instead, I knew I was fighting for the chance to share such things with her and to have her share her equally random thoughts with me. I’d take what I could get, from both this woman and this conversation, even just a coffee together every now and again, or the promise to smile at each other if we saw one other on the ferry.
This encounter just had to end with the chance of a continued connection.
It had to.
She’d shifted her attention to the revolving door beside us, and I glanced there too. Davis McNally . Was this where she worked, or was she there for a meeting?
It was time for a different approach, before she skittled through the doors and disappeared from my life forever.
‘I think,’ I said quietly, ‘you were scared.’
‘A little,’ she admitted easily. Again I was surprised, and she shrugged her shoulders. ‘I told you, we had a great night together. We really connected, and you’re right, I’ve never clicked with someone like that before. But like I said, Callum,’ she drew in a determined breath, ‘I am really not the relationship type.’
‘Well, Lilah,’ I paused. ‘Is it Lilah?’ She hesitated, and I decided to press on. ‘I’ll do you a deal. Give me one dinner and I’ll leave you alone.’
‘You had one dinner.’
‘One more dinner.’
‘You will leave me alone—you have no choice; you don’t know who I am,’ she pointed out. Before I could think of my next argument, she turned on what I assumed was her most determined tone, ‘So that deal is actually pretty shit, given that I already have what you’re offering. No, you’re going to have to argue this case on its own merits. Tell me why I should have one more dinner with you.’
Because I need to get to know you. One way or another, I’m going to be marvelling at how I felt last night for the rest of my life.
‘I’m not the relationships type either,’ I mocked her gently. ‘I’m not looking for a wife. I’m not even looking for a girlfriend. I’m looking only to spend some time with you. End of story.’
She didn’t seem impressed.
‘One more dinner.’ Was I pleading? Surely the whiny tone was getting close. ‘Maybe you’ll bore me to tears and the next time we run into each other on George Street I’ll jump in front of a bus to avoid speaking to you.’
She was staring at the ground beside me, contemplating my offer I suppose. I was an anxious child waiting for approval and acceptance, literally holding my breath as she turned the request over in her mind.
‘One more dinner,’ she agreed. I smiled at her. She pursed her lips and her eyebrows nearly met. ‘Don’t go getting clingy.’
‘I smiled. How is that clingy?’
‘Let’s do this tonight then,’ she exhaled, as if she was
‘I always give false names to men I pick up on ferries. That way if I don’t want to see them again, it’s easy to avoid them.’ She flashed me a charming smile and I could almost have forgiven her then and there. Her words sunk in. I didn’t want this conversation to be light-hearted anymore. I wanted answers.
‘Are you really telling me you didn’t want to see me again?’
‘That’s not what I said,’ Lilah corrected me carefully. ‘I said I gave you a false name in case I didn’t want to see you again. We did have a really great night together.’
‘Now you’re lawyering me.’
‘Callum,’ she sighed impatiently. ‘I am really not the relationship type. I thought it would be like ripping off a band-aid—over within an instant.’
The day was far too beautiful for a potentially painful conversation like this one, but even more than that, I’d noticed the beauty of it. For too long I’d gone through the motions, days and weeks and months and maybe years blurring into one another in a monotony. And yet this day was different to the one before it; the cycle of sameness had been shattered. I wanted to point these things out to Lilah and impress her with the depth of my thoughts. Instead, I knew I was fighting for the chance to share such things with her and to have her share her equally random thoughts with me. I’d take what I could get, from both this woman and this conversation, even just a coffee together every now and again, or the promise to smile at each other if we saw one other on the ferry.
This encounter just had to end with the chance of a continued connection.
It had to.
She’d shifted her attention to the revolving door beside us, and I glanced there too. Davis McNally . Was this where she worked, or was she there for a meeting?
It was time for a different approach, before she skittled through the doors and disappeared from my life forever.
‘I think,’ I said quietly, ‘you were scared.’
‘A little,’ she admitted easily. Again I was surprised, and she shrugged her shoulders. ‘I told you, we had a great night together. We really connected, and you’re right, I’ve never clicked with someone like that before. But like I said, Callum,’ she drew in a determined breath, ‘I am really not the relationship type.’
‘Well, Lilah,’ I paused. ‘Is it Lilah?’ She hesitated, and I decided to press on. ‘I’ll do you a deal. Give me one dinner and I’ll leave you alone.’
‘You had one dinner.’
‘One more dinner.’
‘You will leave me alone—you have no choice; you don’t know who I am,’ she pointed out. Before I could think of my next argument, she turned on what I assumed was her most determined tone, ‘So that deal is actually pretty shit, given that I already have what you’re offering. No, you’re going to have to argue this case on its own merits. Tell me why I should have one more dinner with you.’
Because I need to get to know you. One way or another, I’m going to be marvelling at how I felt last night for the rest of my life.
‘I’m not the relationships type either,’ I mocked her gently. ‘I’m not looking for a wife. I’m not even looking for a girlfriend. I’m looking only to spend some time with you. End of story.’
She didn’t seem impressed.
‘One more dinner.’ Was I pleading? Surely the whiny tone was getting close. ‘Maybe you’ll bore me to tears and the next time we run into each other on George Street I’ll jump in front of a bus to avoid speaking to you.’
She was staring at the ground beside me, contemplating my offer I suppose. I was an anxious child waiting for approval and acceptance, literally holding my breath as she turned the request over in her mind.
‘One more dinner,’ she agreed. I smiled at her. She pursed her lips and her eyebrows nearly met. ‘Don’t go getting clingy.’
‘I smiled. How is that clingy?’
‘Let’s do this tonight then,’ she exhaled, as if she was
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