He looked around, scowling at the proximity of other commuters. “Not now,” he hissed. “Not here.”
“Well, where then?” I hissed back. “I want to know we’ll be ok. We work together.”
“You think I don’t know that? That’s the problem. Work and play don’t mix. We made a mistake, Lydia.”
“Some mistakes are worth making...” I whispered.
He smiled, but it was so muted. My heart sank. “I enjoyed that particular mistake very much, Cat, but it was a mistake, now we have to find a way to resume normal relations.”
“Ok,” I said. “If that’s what you want.” My hands were clammy, I knotted them together.
“I’m being sensible, Lydia, and so should you. We both knew this was a bad idea.”
“And this occurred to you between seven and half past this morning, did it? You were fine when you left me.”
“A cold shower works wonders for rational thinking.”
“I won’t mention it again, then. I’ll be your mistake and we can forget it ever happened.” I tried to sound less hurt than I really was.
He leant in close, his mouth to my ear. “I won’t be forgetting it ever happened, Lydia. I couldn’t if I tried, I promise.”
I looked out of the window the rest of the journey, and let him get on with his emails.
I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t let him walk away. Once he was gone, that would be it, I just knew it. He’d batten down the hatches and never speak about it again, and me and Masque and everything I’d fantasised about would be ruined. I trailed him through the station, even though we’d said our goodbyes and were off in different directions. He turned to face me, shrugging his shoulders.
“What can I say, Lydia? What do you want me to say?”
“Just listen a minute, please, surely you’ve got that for me, after last night.”
“I’ve got all the time in the world for you, I’m just trying to be smart about this.” He pulled me around a corner, to the side of a portable coffee truck. “We need to do this, Lydia, we need to be professional.”
“I know, I get it!” I wheezed. “But last night was amazing, I’ve never felt so alive. You were amazing, James, please don’t ruin it now, not yet.”
He sighed. “This thing can’t work. We work together, a professional relationship, we can’t cross that line, it gets too messy, believe me.”
“We crossed it already, I’m just saying we may as well cross it again.”
“And I’m saying James Clarke and Lydia Marsh, co-workers at Trial Run Software Group have to be co-workers, I said it before, I’m not cut out for a relationship, Cat, especially an office romance, I’d never make it work. I’d try and I’d fail, and you’d quit, or I’d quit, or we’d both quit and lose the excellent working relationship we’ve built up. I don’t want that. I want you at my side, on my team, happy and stable.”
I bit my lip, concentrating so hard I felt my brain could explode. “What makes you think I want a relationship? I’m straight out of a shit one, you think I want to trade in my new life for another stab at domesticity?” I was burning up, I could feel it. “Because I don’t. I don’t want that! I don’t want an office romance, or hearts and roses and shared sandwiches at lunchtime, James, I want Masque! I want what we had last night.”
He reached out a hand, just for a moment, just long enough to run a finger down my cheek. “I know you don’t want another Mr Comfortable, but you don’t want this either. You think you do, but you don’t. I know you don’t want your career getting messy any more than I do. I know you well enough to know that, Cat. We have to draw a line under this before it gets out of hand. Can we go back to being James and Lydia, please? I know I messed up. I know it was me who barged my way into your room last night and I’m sorry for that.”
“I’m not,” I said, simply. “I’m not sorry at all.”
“You will be, when it fucks your career.”
I clutched my hands to my temples, thinking, thinking, thinking. Sensible Lydia agreed with him, tried to regain some perspective. “You’re right, of course, you’re right.”
He smiled, a faint smile, part relief, part something else. “I had a great night, an excellent night.”