then he’d made his excuses (an early start the next day, to report on a conference about osteoporosis) and left.
Which was really a blessing in disguise. What if he’d started snooping? He was a journalist, after all; he was bound to be nosey. Given half a chance he’d probably have gone through her drawers, or rummaged in the wardrobe, and could she really trust him to be discreet about anything he might find? What if he’d come across something that could have led him to Justin?
No – if she was going to get together with anyone, it would have to be someone who was less inclined to ask questions. So it was just as well that it was all over before they’d really had a chance to get started.
The only saving grace was that, as far as she was aware, he hadn’t told anyone else at work about their one-night stand. She certainly hadn’t noticed anybody looking at her differently, or suddenly going quiet whenshe turned up in the canteen or approached the water cooler – but if that were to change, she’d make sure that Dan regretted it. Hell hath no fury like a woman spurned – especially if she’s spurned because she’s deemed too desperate to make use of her ageing ovaries.
She went into the newsroom and saw that her mad dash up the stairs had paid off; Dan was not yet at his desk. She settled down in front of her PC, turned it on and opened her desk diary to peruse her to-do list. A moment later Dan came in. But instead of slouching past her as if she didn’t exist, as had become his habit in the fortnight since Agegate, he trudged slowly towards her, as if struggling to make his way through an invisible force field, and came to a halt facing her, for all the world as if he expected her to actually stop what she was doing and talk to him.
Whatever next! He was clearly about to attempt an exchange of words! She looked him up and down with all the superiority she could muster.
‘Morning, Vixen,’ he said, and attempted a smile.
Oh God, why did he have to go and call her that? It had been Justin’s pet name for her – she’d suggested using it as a title for the column as a sort of private joke, hoping that when he glanced through the paper he’d notice it, and be touched, perhaps, or amused, or even a little bit impressed. But no – he’d just become even more preoccupied and unavailable, until she’d finally lost her temper and presented him with an ultimatum. Surprise, surprise, when it came down to it, Justin had opted to stay with his wife, who also happened to be the mother of his children.
Dan waggled his fingers at her as if attempting to break her out of a trance. ‘Hello, earth to Tina? “The Vixen Letters” is the name of your column, right? I haven’t just walked into some alternate reality where it’s called something completely different?’
She scowled at him to let him know he’d been too familiar. Truth to tell, when he said it, she wasn’t sure if she liked it. It sounded kind of hard and trampy. Not much like anything worth giving chase to.
‘What can I do for you, Dan?’ she asked.
‘Well, uh, I know things have been kind of awkward the last few weeks and I . . . wondered if you were free at lunchtime, if I could buy you a coffee, or maybe even a sandwich as well, and we could kind of smooth things over.’
‘Sorry, I have plans.’
‘Oh come on, Tina. Just ten minutes, that’s all I’m asking.’
‘I’m going to be in the Queen’s Head, celebrating my ten years at the
Post
. Jeremy emailed everyone about it last week – perhaps you overlooked it. Maybe I’ll see you there.’ She glanced at her watch to let him know she had made a major concession just by hearing him out this far, and was really much too busy for any further discussion.
‘Oh. Right. Yeah, I remember. Congratulations.’
He was about to turn and move on and she really should have left it there, but she couldn’t resist making a parting shot. ‘Yes, well, us wizened
Which was really a blessing in disguise. What if he’d started snooping? He was a journalist, after all; he was bound to be nosey. Given half a chance he’d probably have gone through her drawers, or rummaged in the wardrobe, and could she really trust him to be discreet about anything he might find? What if he’d come across something that could have led him to Justin?
No – if she was going to get together with anyone, it would have to be someone who was less inclined to ask questions. So it was just as well that it was all over before they’d really had a chance to get started.
The only saving grace was that, as far as she was aware, he hadn’t told anyone else at work about their one-night stand. She certainly hadn’t noticed anybody looking at her differently, or suddenly going quiet whenshe turned up in the canteen or approached the water cooler – but if that were to change, she’d make sure that Dan regretted it. Hell hath no fury like a woman spurned – especially if she’s spurned because she’s deemed too desperate to make use of her ageing ovaries.
She went into the newsroom and saw that her mad dash up the stairs had paid off; Dan was not yet at his desk. She settled down in front of her PC, turned it on and opened her desk diary to peruse her to-do list. A moment later Dan came in. But instead of slouching past her as if she didn’t exist, as had become his habit in the fortnight since Agegate, he trudged slowly towards her, as if struggling to make his way through an invisible force field, and came to a halt facing her, for all the world as if he expected her to actually stop what she was doing and talk to him.
Whatever next! He was clearly about to attempt an exchange of words! She looked him up and down with all the superiority she could muster.
‘Morning, Vixen,’ he said, and attempted a smile.
Oh God, why did he have to go and call her that? It had been Justin’s pet name for her – she’d suggested using it as a title for the column as a sort of private joke, hoping that when he glanced through the paper he’d notice it, and be touched, perhaps, or amused, or even a little bit impressed. But no – he’d just become even more preoccupied and unavailable, until she’d finally lost her temper and presented him with an ultimatum. Surprise, surprise, when it came down to it, Justin had opted to stay with his wife, who also happened to be the mother of his children.
Dan waggled his fingers at her as if attempting to break her out of a trance. ‘Hello, earth to Tina? “The Vixen Letters” is the name of your column, right? I haven’t just walked into some alternate reality where it’s called something completely different?’
She scowled at him to let him know he’d been too familiar. Truth to tell, when he said it, she wasn’t sure if she liked it. It sounded kind of hard and trampy. Not much like anything worth giving chase to.
‘What can I do for you, Dan?’ she asked.
‘Well, uh, I know things have been kind of awkward the last few weeks and I . . . wondered if you were free at lunchtime, if I could buy you a coffee, or maybe even a sandwich as well, and we could kind of smooth things over.’
‘Sorry, I have plans.’
‘Oh come on, Tina. Just ten minutes, that’s all I’m asking.’
‘I’m going to be in the Queen’s Head, celebrating my ten years at the
Post
. Jeremy emailed everyone about it last week – perhaps you overlooked it. Maybe I’ll see you there.’ She glanced at her watch to let him know she had made a major concession just by hearing him out this far, and was really much too busy for any further discussion.
‘Oh. Right. Yeah, I remember. Congratulations.’
He was about to turn and move on and she really should have left it there, but she couldn’t resist making a parting shot. ‘Yes, well, us wizened
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