Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [91]
‘Good,’ she managed.
Why did he have to tell her in front of everyone? If they’d been closeted in his office she could have flung herself into his arms and given him a hug.
‘Good?’ He widened his eyes playfully.
‘We should celebrate.’ Lisa began to gather herself and let the relief in. ‘Have lunch.’
Her happiness levels continued to rise when Jack agreed, ‘We should.’
They locked eyes and exchanged a moment of dizzy euphoria.
‘I’ll book a table. Trix,’ Lisa called, joyously, ‘cancel my lunch-time hair appointment!’
It was nearly like the old days.
‘While you’re here, Jack, take a look at this.’ Lisa waved something at him.
From three desks away, Ashling – who’d been following everything with interest anyway – saw that Lisa was showing Jack her salsa article.
‘Told you I’d knock this magazine into something fabulous,’ Lisa laughed up at him.
‘You certainly did,’ he agreed, skimming over the piece, nodding with approval. ‘This is excellent stuff.’
Impotently, Ashling watched. Somehow Lisa had appropriated all the credit for her work. It wasn’t fair. But what was she going to do about it? Nothing. Too scared of confrontation. All at once she heard herself call, ‘Glad you like it!’ Her voice was shaking. She was trying to come across as casual, but she knew she sounded stilted and strange.
Surprised, Jack jerked his head towards Ashling.
‘I wrote the piece,’ she said, apologetically. ‘I’m glad you like it,’ she added, without conviction.
‘And Gerry typeset it,’ Lisa scolded. ‘And I came up with the concept. You’re going to have to learn about team-work, Ashling.’ Lisa directed her rebuke to Ashling directly at Jack.
But Jack was studying the sexy photo, then he began flicking from the woman to Ashling, his dark eyes bold and suggestive. Ashling was hot and uncomfortable from his scrutiny.
‘Well, well.’ His lips curled up at the corners, as though he was stuffing back a huge grin. ‘So, Ashling, this is what you get up to in your spare time? Dirty dancing?’
‘It’s not…’ She wanted to hit him.
‘Seriously, it’s a superb piece. You’ve done very well,’ Jack said, dropping all innuendo. ‘Hasn’t she, Lisa?’
Lisa’s mouth attempted many different shapes, but there was no escape. ‘Yes,’ she was forced to say. ‘She has.’
Lisa booked a table at Halo for herself and Jack. Best to assume control because she had a feeling if she left it to him they’d end up at Pizza Hut.
Half an hour before the off she took herself to the ladies’ to ensure she looked her very, very best. What a stroke of luck she’d worn her lavender Press and Bastyan suit today. Although if it hadn’t been that suit it would have been something equally glam. As a magazine editor, you never knew when you might be called upon to be fabulous. Always Prepared, that was her motto.
There was no way her flimsy grosgrain-ribbon sandals would survive the short walk along the quays – they barely held it together as she strolled around the office. Not that Lisa resented their being so impractical – some shoes exist just to display a fierce, short-lived burst of beauty. Why else did God invent taxis?
Assessing herself in the mirror, she was grudgingly pleased. Her eyes were bright and wide (thanks to white eye-liner on her inner rim), her complexion dewy (courtesy of Aveda Masque) and her forehead smooth and wrinkle-free (all down to the Botox injection she’d had just before she’d left London). She brushed her hair until it gleamed – this took no time at all. It always gleamed, thanks to leave-in conditioner, anti-frizz hairspray and being blow-dried by a professional.
At ten to one their taxi arrived and she and Jack left together, watched beadily by the entire office. Lisa was thrilled to get him all to herself, in such close proximity, and planned to use the confined space in the car to ‘accidently’ jostle her slim, bare legs against his. But as soon as they got in, Jack’s mobile rang and he spent the journey arguing with the radio station