Went to Pret for lunch. I was hanging around the fridge when I saw the stranger examining two identical Wiltshire ham and mature Cheddar sandwiches. She put one back and kept the other. I reached past her and grabbed the one she’d rejected.
“Good choice,” I said, nodding at hers.
She looked at mine, then hers, and said, “It’s the only one without a soggy bottom. The cheese protects the bread.”
“Load-bearing cheese,” I agreed.
She laughed. Good start. She looked at me properly. Up and down. She seemed different away from the office. Less like someone who might be about to sack a department.
“You’re the man from the printer.”
“That’s how I’ve always wanted to be known.”
She pointed her sandwich at me. “And the seventeenth floor. That was your desk, wasn’t it?”
“Still is, pending an HR investigation.”
Another laugh. Not that I was joking. She apologised. Apparently someone had told her to use any free desk. Makes sense. I think I was late that day.
“Since we’re discussing it,” I said, “there is the small matter of a missing cactus.”
Her eyes widened.
“Oh God. That was yours?”
Turns out she’d pricked herself on it a couple of times, so moved it while working. I get it. Done it myself a few times. Anyway, it ended up beside her bag, and she packed it up with everything. Said she didn’t notice till she got home.
Fair enough. Not quite what I was hoping for, perhaps.
We moved along the queue together in silence. Needed to get myself back in the game, so I gave her a finger wag I’d rehearsed. Other hand on my hip. Like a fucking teapot.
“You know, accidental theft is still theft.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, turning back to face me. “I’ve been meaning to return it.”
“Is it still alive?”
“Very!” she protested. “It’s on my patio. I watered it.”
“It’s a cactus. They prefer emotional distance.”
That got a proper laugh.
She promised not to water it again and said she’d give it back to me. Just as the conversation was starting to flow, the cashier interrupted us. She held up her sandwich and paid with her phone.
I was about to say something else, something brilliant, but she got in first. “I must dash. Meeting in ten. But I owe you lunch. For the printing.”
I did my best to look like I’d expected that. That it wasn't such a big deal. I took out my phone and swiped through a few things. I should probably sync my work calendar. Made a few grimaces, for effect.
“Monday could work.”
“Half twelve?” she replied.
“Perfect. Back here?”
“It’s a date.” She held out her hand. “Jadyn, by the way.”
“I’m Jolon.”
“I know.”
For a moment, I thought she’d been asking around about me. Doing her own research. Then she tapped the pass hanging around my neck.
Before leaving, she turned back and said, “Half twelve, Jolon. Don’t forget.”
I was still replaying it in my head when the cashier interrupted again. Asked for my order. Twice.
“Just a decaf flat white. I don’t want the sandwich.”
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