get it over with. She would only keep on calling until he answered.
‘Hello, you.’ She was using her consciously sexy telephone voice. ‘Listen, how about if I come over this evening?’
Zack knew it was wrong that the suggestion didn’t fill him with joy. Their relationship had started out so well, it had taken a while for the realization to sink in that the Louisa he’d first got to know was something of a front, a beguiling persona created to give a good impression. As time had gone on, she had begun to change and reveal her bossier, more possessive side. They were turning out to have less in common than he’d first thought. ‘The thing is, I’m going to be shattered when I get back from Amsterdam.’ A lie, but a necessary one.
‘I know, that’s why I’m suggesting it. I’ll cook dinner and spoil you rotten. We’ll have you feeling better in no time. Go on,’ Louisa purred in his ear. ‘You know you want to.’
He really didn’t, not tonight. ‘Look, I don’t want to mess up your evening. I may have to stay on for a couple of drinks with the Van den Bergs. Who knows what time I’ll be back.’
‘Oh, darling, you’re so thoughtful, but I really don’t mind.’
And now she was being nice, which only made him feel worse. ‘But I do. It’s not fair on you.’ Pricked with guilt, Zack said, ‘Let’s leave it for tonight, OK?’
‘Oh, right. Well, how about tomorrow then?’
‘Tomorrow. Fine.’ His voice softened. Anything to keep the peace. He still liked her when she was relaxed and not taking herself too seriously; it was just that those times happened less and less often nowadays. If he was honest, he knew he should probably finish with Louisa but he also knew it was going to be hard work. Louisa was so dramatic, she wouldn’t leave without kicking up a fuss. It was a daunting enough prospect that it put him off broaching the subject. When all you wanted to do was concentrate on work, the thought of so much angst and disruption was off-putting to say the least.
Zack ended the call, coaxed Elmo away from an abandoned chicken nugget in a shop doorway, and headed for home. It was ten past nine and Ellie would be there by now. He also knew it was wrong to be seeing Louisa whilst feeling the way he did about someone else. But Ellie’s absolute indifference towards him meant it hardly mattered. It wasn’t as if finishing with Louisa would make her suddenly change her mind and fall for him. It just didn’t work like that.
If it did, he’d already have done it.
Ellie was in the office, smelling gorgeous and with her hair tied back with a gray velvet ribbon to reveal her neck. The post had already been sorted into piles and she was now watering the forest of plants that had taken up residence along the windowsill, courtesy of Barbara.
‘Some of these are going funny,’ she warned him over her shoulder. ‘I told you I wouldn’t be able to keep them going. I’m a serial plant-killer. Look at the leaves on this one.’
She was wearing a gray jersey top with a square neck and elbow-length sleeves, and a red skirt. Moving closer, Zack breathed in the fresh, lemony perfume and watched the way her dark hair glinted in the sunlight streaming in through the window. ‘Yes, they definitely look like leaves to me.’
‘But the edges are going all weird and yellow.’ Frustrated, she turned the blue ceramic pot to show him. ‘I thought it needed more water so I gave it loads yesterday and now they’re even worse. Do you think I should try and dry out the soil?’
The way her eyebrows tilted in concern made him want to kiss her. It was a common-as-muck spider plant, practically a weed, but she really cared about it. But since there was no way he could kiss her, he said, ‘How would you do that?’
‘I was thinking maybe a hair dryer.’ Ellie lifted the blue pot and gave the sodden compost a tentative prod.
‘Give it a go. If it doesn’t work, at least the leaves’ll look stylish.’
She stopped prodding. ‘Are you making fun of me?’
Zack smiled; the one thing he knew he mustn’t do was flirt with her. ‘I’m making light of the fact that neither of us has the foggiest idea how to look after a potted plant.’
‘Just as well we don’t have kids.’ Cheerfully oblivious