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‘Good. You see, I’ve been thinking—’
‘Steady now.’
‘Ha!’ He nudged me in the ribs with his elbow. ‘Since I don’t have to talk about this bloody awful weather, can I ask you about your plans for tonight instead?’
‘My plans?’ I asked, forcing myself to keep the wheel straight and my attention on the road.
‘Yeah, your plans.’
‘Um…’ Where was he going with this? ‘I don’t have any.’
‘Great.’
‘Thanks a lot, Zac.’
‘No, I mean great for me.’
‘And how is that exactly?’ I said coolly, which took a considerable amount of effort.
‘I know this is going to sound odd, you know, after everything that happened back there with Josh but…’ Zac’s voice trailed off.
‘But?’ I prompted, not wanting to give him the chance to talk himself out of whatever he’d intended to say. In my peripheral vision, I saw him turn his head to face me.
‘Right. Um… Please don’t take this the wrong way.’
‘OK,’ I said, trying to move things along.
‘How would you feel about coming out with me?’
‘Out? With you?’
‘Just as friends,’ he added, in an effort to clarify his motives.
‘What would your girlfriend say?’ I asked, shooting him a knowing look.
‘I don’t have one.’
‘What?’ My foot slipped off the accelerator and I stalled the car. ‘How come? Since when?’
Zac humoured me by not commenting—or pleading to be let out—so I gunned the engine to keep us moving and pretended it never happened. ‘She dumped me. Not long after I met you actually.’
‘No way?’ I almost stalled again and had to scramble to regain control over myself as much as the car. ‘What did you do?’
‘Hey!’ He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I didn’t do anything, thank you very much.’
‘Then why?’
Zac sighed. ‘It just wasn’t to be, she was hung up on somebody else.’
‘Ouch, that’s a bummer.’
‘Yeah.’ His voice held sadness and resignation, matched by his frown, but then his tone brightened. ‘But it does leave me with a spare ticket for tonight if you fancy it?’
‘A ticket for what? I’m guessing you’re not talking football.’
‘No. It’s tickets for a jazz club.’
‘Nice.’ My eyebrows were at risk of whiplash the way they were up and down like yo-yos. ‘Why me though, Zac? You must have your pick of girls.’
‘Ha! If you say so,’ he said. ‘But even if I did, they might mistake it for a date.’
‘And that’s not what this is? A date, I mean.’
‘God, no,’ he blurted. ‘My head’s a mess so the last thing I want right now is another girlfriend. It’s just two friends, like I said, going out to celebrate.’
‘What am I supposed to be celebrating?’
‘Ah, of course, you wouldn’t know. Well…’ He paused for dramatic effect. ‘Today just so happens to be my birthday.’
‘Oh I see. Then I guess I should wish you a happy birthday?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Happy birthday, Zac.’
‘Thank you, Alice.’
‘And you’re sure you want to go with me tonight, even after what you saw today?’
‘Sure, why not? If nothing else, it’ll give us something to talk about,’ he said, matter-of-factly. ‘By the way, that’s my road coming up on the left so can you hurry up and make up your mind? It would be a shame to waste valuable time driving around the block when we could be getting ready.’
‘You’d really make me keep driving?’
‘Either that or stage a sit-in.’
‘Fine.’ I made the left turn. ‘Which house is yours?’
‘The one with the Land Rover in the driveway.’
‘I see it,’ I said, following the direction of his finger.
‘So what’s it to be?’ Zac asked, swivelling in his seat to face me. He certainly seemed keen. What was the worst that could happen? I’d already dipped my toe into the murky waters of friendship and I genuinely enjoyed his company.
‘I suppose it would be rude of me to turn you down on your birthday?’
‘You suppose correctly,’ he said, sounding serious.
‘OK, fine.’ I brought the car to a halt outside his house and turned to face him. ‘I’ll go out with you, Zac, but only because it’s a special occasion.’
‘Yes!’ he hissed, totally over-exaggerating it. ‘If we’re quick enough, we should be able to grab dinner first if you fancy it?’
‘Works for me.’
‘Excellent.’ Zac unclipped his seatbelt and reached for the door handle but then stopped. ‘How should we do this? Do you want to go on home and get ready and I’ll pick you up from there or—’
‘Go on home?’ I turned on the sad puppy eyes, desperately trying to keep a straight face. ‘You mean you don’t like what I’m wearing?’
Zac’s bright smile slipped, as I’d hoped, and I could practically see the cogs whirring as he tried to extract his foot from his mouth. ‘Well, er…it’s not to my particular taste,’ he said, recovering fast. ‘I could never pull it off despite my great legs and I really don’t have the cleavage for it.’
‘Is that so?’
‘More to the point, I don’t fancy getting into any fights tonight yet with you in that outfit I’d have no choice but to fend off a load of other men to protect your honour.’
‘My honour?’ I pressed my lips together but failed to hold back the harsh laugh. ‘I’m afraid you’re a couple of years too late to protect that,’ I spluttered. ‘You can relax though, I was only kidding about getting ready.’
‘Are you sure?’ he asked.
‘I’m sure.’
‘Honestly, you don’t have to change on my account.’
Now that I wasn’t so sure about.
‘No, really.’ I shifted in my seat. ‘This outfit has served its purpose.’
‘Ah.’ A hooded look fell over his eyes until he blinked it away. ‘So shall I come and pick you up?’
‘No, don’t be daft. I’m miles out of the way. Why don’t I come back here as soon as I’m ready since I can’t have a drink anyway?’
‘Sounds great. I’ll see you soon then?’ A hint of uncertainty crept into his voice, suggesting he had insecurities of his own to contend with.
‘I’ll be here,’ I said, locking eye contact with him. ‘After all, it’s your birthday.’
‘Yes it is.’ With that, he smiled and climbed out of the car. Light and agile on his feet, he dodged puddles with ease, almost dancing, as he dashed through the rain in his flip-flops to reach his front door. He turned back to wave just once before disappearing inside.
Already mentally planning what to wear, I pulled away from the kerb and headed home. My outfit needed to be something simple—I didn’t have time for anything else—but the rare opportunity to drop the act had presented itself. Zac had already seen me au naturel with Charlie and then all tramped-up with Joshua, so maybe the time had come to leave the mask at home and show Zac my more elegant, refined side?
Showered and stripped of my mask, I left my hair loose and opted for a natural, more demure look as I re-applied my make-up. Determined to let my outfit do the talking, I slipped into my gorgeous silver dress and gently tugged on the zip. The thigh-high split would be deemed ‘outrageously daring’ on anybody else and had been that way for me when I’d bought it. Intended for my end-of-year school prom, I’d got myself kicked out before I got the chance to wear it.
Finally getting its first outing, the dress bordered on positively conservative these days and showed a lot less skin than my usual choice of outfit. Ideally, I’d have teamed it with my matching sparkly heels but the rain put paid to strappy sandals so I went with my clear shoes that looked like glass slippers.
A final check in the mirror reflected a totally different girl to the one who’d stood in front of the glass earlier. Dressed to impress, I ignored the shiver of terror that begged me to go back and grab my lenses and pulled my bedroom door shut behind me.
For one night only, could the real Alice Taylor please step forward.
Less than an hour after dropping Zac off at home, I pulled up outside his house again. In hindsight we should have exchanged numbers so I could text to reassure him and let him know I was on my way. It still smarted that he thought I’d go back on my word. I may be many unpleasant things, but being a flake wasn’t one of them.
The lack of number and drawn curtains meant Zac had no way of knowing I was outside, but damned if I was going out into the rain to knock on his door. I gave two short blasts on my car horn instead. The downstairs curtain twitched before I’d taken my hand off the horn as though he’d been standing there just waiting for some kind of signal.
Zac’s head appeared in the window, bathed in light. He smiled when he saw my car then the curtain fell back across the window. Within seconds the room went dark and the front door opened. A large golf umbrella emerged first, blocking most of the doorway as it opened but then it lifted skyward to reveal Zac, suited and booted with his shirt open at the collar.
Omigod.
Water pooled in my mouth in competition with the deepest puddles of rain, forcing me to swallow twice to clear it. I could feel my eyes bugging out at the drop-dead gorgeous guy making his way to my car. Suits were most definitely my ‘thing’ so it wasn’t like I had any control over my reaction, plus it was the first time I’d ever seen Zac dressed in something other than sportswear.
Zac reached the car and flung the door open, triggering the cabin lights. ‘Hey, Alice.’
‘Hey yourself, Zac.’ In light of the facts, I immediately forgave myself for the sudden case of butterflies that fluttered in my stomach.
He slid into the seat with his back to me, keeping the umbrella over him until both highly polished shoes were in the car. ‘I thought this might come in handy,’ he said, shaking the brolly out before stowing it between his seat and the door.
‘Good plan,’ I murmured, distracted by the fragrance that wafted over me as Zac pulled the door closed to seal us in. As he reached for his seatbelt, I inhaled deeply, losing myself in the woodsy scent that reminded me of the forest near where I grew up after a heavy downpour.
How ironic considering our previous two meetings: trees and rain. Unfortunately, it did nothing to settle the now frantic flapping in my gut. Up close, his metallic grey suit complemented my silver evening dress as if we’d been planning the event for weeks. Between us, we made quite the impact and were sure to turn heads wherever we went.
A frisson of excitement raced from my head to my toe; the anticipation building as I waited for him to notice me. ‘You ready then?’ I asked, keeping my gaze to the front.
‘Yep, let’s g—’ His voice cut off abruptly and I knew it was because he’d seen me for the first time.
‘What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?’ I lifted my leg to pop the clutch and my skirt separated, revealing a flash of leg.
Zac gasped.
I turned my head to look at him, desperate to see his reaction. His eyes were wide and I caught him closing his mouth as if his jaw had dropped open. It got harder and harder to hold back my ginormous grin so I allowed myself a little smirk. ‘You’re looking good, Zac.’
‘You too, Alice.’ He lifted his gaze to meet mine, slowly as though taking in every detail, and a range of emotions played across his face: shock, awe, even desire—which got my blood racing—before settling on something resembling pride. ‘You too.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, my voice filled with enough warmth and sincerity to surprise both of us so I cleared my throat and reached for the gearstick.
We drove in silence for the first few minutes but then Zac broke the deadlock.
‘Do you fancy Chinese or Italian?’
‘Either works for me. Why don’t you choose, seeing as it’s your birthday?’
‘Italian it is, then.’ He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a phone. The glow reflected off the windscreen as he scrolled through the numbers before lifting his phone to ear. ‘Hi, I’d like to make a reservation for two please,’ he said, adopting a more formal voice to speak into the handset. A pause. ‘In about half an hour?’ Another pause. ‘Yes, it’s Isaac Newton.’ Say what? ‘Thanks, that’s great. Bye.’
I pounced the instant he ended the call. ‘Isaac Newton?’
‘Yep, that’s my name,’ he said, pocketing his phone.
‘Right. So what else don’t I know about you?’
Of all the dumb questions.
Zac bit back a grin. ‘Oh, let’s see now… I prefer to be called Zac for obvious reasons.’ Yeah, I could hardly blame him on that one. ‘I’m twenty-two, as of today of course, and I have one older brother called Thomas. I left home at eighteen to go to university and now have a degree in Sports Psychology. I am a fully qualified lifeguard, swimming coach and personal trainer, and one day I’d like to have my own gym,’ he said, pausing to draw breath. ‘Oh and my parents expect me home for Sunday dinner at least once a month. Your turn…’
Shit.
