I Owe You One - Sophie Kinsella Page 0,60

at home, I feel a bubble of joy expand inside me. He’s here! I honestly thought—

Well, I didn’t know what to think. He was so casual when we said goodbye the other night, I was afraid he might already be moving on. So somehow, these last two days, I’ve forced myself not to text him constantly but to play it cool. Wait for him to make the next move. And it’s worked!

“Hi!” I say. I’m trying to sound casual, but my voice is giddy with relief. “Didn’t expect you tonight.”

“Nicole let me in,” he says, standing up. “I thought you’d get back earlier.”

“We had a crisis over a damaged delivery,” I say apologetically. “It tied me up.”

“No biggie.” He smiles. “You’re here now.”

He pulls me into his arms and I close my eyes, almost swooning as our mouths meet. I hadn’t realized how desperate I was for him. The touch of him, the scent of him…the himness of him.

It’s been so long since I had a proper boyfriend. Not that I would admit this to him.

“So how’s it going?” I draw back and survey his face. “How’s the job?”

The only two texts I’ve sent Ryan were wishing him luck with the job and then asking how his first day had gone. He didn’t reply to either, but I figured he was super-busy.

“It’s great!” His face creases into a smile. “Couldn’t be better.”

“Fantastic!” I say in delight. “So you like the work?”

“Love it,” he says emphatically. “And I think I’ll be good at it, you know? I’m not saying I’m an expert, but I get what they’re trying to do. What we’re trying to do,” he corrects himself, a little self-consciously, and I give him another hug. This is all even better than I hoped.

“I’m so happy,” I murmur against his shoulder. “I really hoped it would work out. And is Seb a good boss?”

I ask it more for form’s sake than anything else, and I’m surprised when Ryan stiffens slightly.

“He’s fine,” he says after a pause. “He’s OK.”

“Only OK?” I feel a tad disappointed. I don’t know why, but I assumed Seb would be a brilliant boss.

“No, he’s great,” Ryan backtracks. “He’s fine. All good.” He flashes a smile and I automatically return it—but I’m still preoccupied.

“So, what’s the issue?” I can’t help probing.

“Nothing.” Ryan brushes it off. “I shouldn’t have said anything. He’s great.”

“But…?” I persist. I know there’s a “but,” and I have to know what it is.

“OK.” Ryan exhales. “Well, I guess there’s a bit of tension.”

“Tension?” I stare at him. “Why would there be tension?”

“It’s tricky.” Ryan hesitates as though marshaling his words. “Thing is, people in the office are coming to me. Asking my opinion. And Seb doesn’t like it.” Ryan winces. “I think he’s threatened.”

“Why would Seb be threatened by you?” I say, astonished. “He set up his own investment company. You don’t know anything about investment. How can you be a threat?”

I have a flashback to Seb in his office. His open manner. His laugh. He doesn’t seem like he would be threatened by anyone. He seems like the type who would be interested in all viewpoints.

“I agree!” Ryan exclaims, nodding vigorously. “I’m a beginner! But here’s the thing: I knew a lot of people in the States. Entrepreneurs, tech companies, environmental outfits…I picked stuff up. And the guys want to hear it. All except Seb. He’s a nice guy but closed-minded. He likes his ‘process.’ ”

I’m silent for a moment, digesting this. This isn’t what I imagined of Seb—but then, I’ve only had a few conversations with him, I remind myself. I’ve never seen him in a work situation. Maybe he’s more cautious and set in his ways than he appears.

“We had a big meeting yesterday,” Ryan continues. “Who ends up taking it? Me. They’re talking about tech. I let them have their say, but then I’m like, ‘Have you even been to San Francisco? Have you met the guys at the cutting edge? Because I have. I know their names. I’ve swum in their fucking pools.’ ”

“Wow,” I breathe. “That sounds amazing!”

“I was telling them about tech start-ups they hadn’t even heard of.” Ryan nods. “They were writing it all down. Lapping it up.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Seb,” says Ryan, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t like it.”

“How could he not like it?” I say, perplexed. “You’re only sharing information.”

“He’s a control freak.” Ryan shrugs. “He’s like, ‘Stay in your box, Ryan.’ But I don’t stay in boxes. Sorry, but that’s who I

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