Dumped, Actually(38)

One part of me wants nothing to do with the dating scene again.

. . . and I’m not even the type of person who has rebound romances. I tend to be 100 per cent committed to the damn thing, or not at all. Could I even cope with meeting another woman so soon after Samantha, and maybe going through all of it again? I don’t think so.

But the other part of me – the part that enjoys being called Captain Popularity and having lots of new readers – thinks it’s a great idea. It’s the same part of me that was insane enough to write all about my run-in with Bambi. The side of me that wants to keep the ball rolling, to keep the readers happy, to please them above all other things . . .

If I chew this fingernail any more, I’m going to need a plaster.

I need advice about this.

If I’m going to attempt such a thing, I need someone to help guide me through it. Somebody I trust.

Erica is alone in her office. I think I’d better go have a chat with her.

‘Knock, knock,’ I say, opening her door.

She looks up at me and smiles. As well she might. I am the golden boy around here at the moment, after all.

‘If you’ve come looking for a Belvita, I’m fresh out,’ she says, grinning like a loon.

I roll my eyes. ‘Very funny.’

Erica holds up a hand. ‘Hang on, I have something cued up for just such an occasion as this . . .’

She taps a few keys on her laptop and looks up at me again, an expectant expression writ large across her face.

From the laptop speakers comes a song from The Sound of Music.

You know which one it is already, don’t you?

Yep. Julie Andrews singing her little heart out about does and deers.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and stand there with my head down as my boss sings along with Julie about rays of golden sun, and appropriate pronouns with which to describe oneself.

‘Okay, okay,’ I say, finally walking into the office, wincing.

Erica whacks another key, and Julie Andrews ceases her musical litany. ‘Sorry, couldn’t resist. I’ve been waiting for you to come in here for two days now.’

I slump in the chair opposite her desk, as I have done a thousand times in the past. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be too mad. I have rather brought all this upon myself.’

Erica nods. ‘Well, yes. But I’m eternally grateful you have.’

‘You might be, but Mr Montifore clearly isn’t.’

Erica’s smile vanishes. ‘Don’t worry about him, Ollie. He’s my problem. You just keep doing what you’re doing.’

I give her a thumbs-up. ‘Will do.’ I sit up in the chair. ‘That’s actually why I’ve come in here. To ask you something.’

‘Go on,’ Erica responds, looking curious.

‘It’s like this. I’ve had an email from a woman called Callie Donnelly . . .’

‘I saw it. She’s the one who suggested you get back out on the dating scene again.’

‘That’s right. I’ve been sat at my desk in two minds about the whole thing, because on the one hand I know it’s a great idea for another article, but on the other hand I have no desire to try to date anyone new right now. That’s when I thought of you.’

Erica blinks a couple of times. ‘You thought of me?’

‘Yeah. Of course. You’re the perfect person to ask.’

Erica’s jaw drops open. ‘Ollie . . . are you asking me out on a date?’

It’s my turn for some jaw droppage. ‘What?’

‘You don’t want to date anyone new, so you thought of me?’

‘What? No! That’s not what I meant!’

Oh God. How exquisitely awful.

‘It isn’t?’ Erica has got over the shock very quickly, it seems, and is now looking highly amused.

‘No! I just meant that I should talk to you about it all, and get your advice!’

‘Oh . . . okay.’ Erica’s eyes twinkle as she says this. This is a cruel, cruel woman. To revel in my discomfort like this.

At that moment, my stupid treacherous brain throws up a suggestion.

Why not ask her out, Ollie? She’s an incredible woman. You know her well. And you’ve always had a great relationship with her at work, so . . .

‘Why? Would you . . . Would you go out on a date with me?’ I ask hesitantly.

Erica’s eyes go wide, before she starts to shake her head slowly. ‘No, Ollie. I won’t. And I don’t think that’s really what you’d want, anyway, is it?’

I also start to shake my head. ‘No. Probably not.’

Stupid brain. Making stupid suggestions. Why weren’t you so proactive when the deer was staring at our bloody erection?

Don’t blame me, pal. You should have fed me more Omega 3.

I have to rescue this excruciating situation before it gets any worse.

‘I just . . . I just wanted to ask if you think it’s a good idea to go ahead with it, and if you do, what advice you could give me about meeting someone!’ The words fall out of my mouth in a torrent.

Erica leans her chin on her hand and regards me with the look of someone who owns an adorable puppy that has just done a shit on the carpet. ‘That sounds a bit more sensible,’ she says, and ponders my request for a moment. ‘You know what, Ollie? I do think you and I should go out together.’