At First Sight, Hannah Sunderland [thriller books to read txt] 📗

fling them further out of reach. I’d almost yelped a little when I looked up to find the girl staring at me in the reflection of the mirror.

‘You’ll do great. I believe in you,’ she’d said. ‘And you are right, there is no graceful way to eat a salad.’

‘Th-thank you,’ I’d said glancing down at her lanyard, ‘Kathy.’

‘No worries.’ And with that she’d disappeared out into the hall.

Ned was complaining about something that the new volunteer, Maddie, had said whilst he’d been waiting for the filter coffee to dribble into the communal pot. But I wasn’t really listening, overcome with a brand-new sense of infectious confidence, as we stepped through the automatic door. The air was still as cold as it had been in January, the spring air harshened by an icy blast of lingering winter. Just outside the building, leaning with one shoulder against the sign that bore the names of Healthy Minds and all the other companies that shared our building, was the figure I’d been waiting to see. I recognised the brooding slant of his shoulders, the nonchalant way that he crossed one leg behind the other, balancing on the sole of one hefty black boot like a grungy flamingo. His hand was up beside his face, holding his phone to his ear. I could hear the tinny voice of the other person from here, their words distorted by a bad connection. I held a finger to my lips, hushing Ned, and pointed Charlie out before sneaking up behind him.

‘Boo!’ I said, loudly into his ear.

‘Feck me!’ Charlie cried out, clutching a hand to his chest and spinning around in surprise.

‘Not here, surely?’ I jested.

His phone fell away from his ear and the screen burst back into light. The voice on the other end of the line said something in distorted, garbled sounds and I glanced at it long enough to see that the number wasn’t saved into his phone. He quickly ended the call and shoved it into his back pocket.

‘Yer tryin’ to kill me, woman? ’Cause I could have done with yer a couple of years ago if that’s the case.’ He pretended to be annoyed but I could see the worried smile trying to break through his forcibly sullen face.

‘Not funny,’ I said loudly, the information too new to be mentioned flippantly.

‘Shame. And we put so much work into plotting your demise,’ Ned said, deadpan. He held out a hand for Charlie to shake and it felt very formal for two people who’d, less than a week ago, seen each other tear up over Channing Tatum.

Charlie shook his hand and then pushed both fists down into the fraying pockets of his denim jacket. He was wearing a red beanie hat that squeezed his hair down over his eyes and made it look twice as long with the way it flicked out from under the hem.

‘So, have you decided where you want to eat? It’s ladies’ choice,’ he asked.

‘I don’t mind. Anywhere is good, although I am craving garlic bread,’ I replied.

‘Italian it is then.’ He smiled, lighting up his eyes, which I swear got a deeper shade of blue every time I saw them. ‘You can come too, Ned, if you want to.’

I turned to Ned with wide eyes that did all the talking for me. They said, don’t you dare. This is my chance, Ned. My chance at being more than a counsellor to that beautiful man. Go home and eat your ice cream and watch some decade-old crimes being solved.

Ned looked at me as if to say, as if I’d want to come and watch you mentally undressing him over the table. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got a date with a spoon and two men right now. And besides that, I’ve seen her eating spaghetti before and I still have PTSD about it.’ He leaned over and kissed the side of my forehead. I looked up and caught his eye. He sent me a wink, hailed his goodbye and strode off down the path.

‘Two men, one spoon?’ Charlie asked once Ned was out of earshot.

‘Ben and Jerry,’ I explained.

‘Oh, thank God.’ He sighed. ‘For a moment there, I thought he’d found himself some very niche porn.’

We watched him disappear into the darkness as the beginning-of-date awkwardness began to thicken the air between us.

He looked at me from under his eyebrows and a smile tugged at one corner of his lips. ‘You’ll have to lead the way. I haven’t been out for a proper sit-down meal in so long that I don’t even know where the restaurants are anymore.’

I lifted a hand and pointed in the vague direction of Giorgio’s, the only Italian worth going to around here, and we set off at a slow ramble. I copied his stance by pushing my hands into the pockets of my coat. I wished I’d known this morning that this would be happening – that way I might have dressed a little less office chic and a little more daringly. Compared to Charlie’s easy style, I looked like I might be his accountant or parole officer.

‘So, have you got over Channing Tatum yet?’ I asked, deeming the actor safe grounds for conversation.

‘Can anyone ever truly get over Channing Tatum?’ he said moving beside me and jutting out his elbow. I fidgeted for a moment, stunned a little by the sudden invitation for physical contact, then slid my arm through his. The coarse fabric of his sleeve brushed against the material of my coat, making little swishing sounds as we walked.

‘Well, there’s something I feel like I should tell you.’ I looked up into his eyes with feigned concern. His brows knitted with worry. ‘There’s an alternate ending on the DVD extras. I found Ned watching it last night when I got in. So, I’m pretty sure we’re going to have to watch it all over again and play the other ending instead.’

His brow softened and his smile returned. ‘I don’t know if my