The Dating Game. Avril Tremayne

am.’

      ‘In front of me?’

      He was sketching again. ‘No point otherwise.’

      ‘It won’t work.’

      ‘If it doesn’t, I’ll buy you a bottle of Passion Pop.’

      ‘Ha ha ha! Anyway, we’ll never know because, I can’t let you try. Not with Erica.’

      He stopped drawing and looked at her. ‘Because …?’

      ‘Because of Lane. Not that Lane is going to be there, but Erica knows who you are and she’ll tell Lane. And I …’ She shrugged, looking sheepish. ‘I still haven’t worked out how to tell Lane what’s happening here.’

      ‘But I’ve never met Erica,’ David said—and then the truth dawned. ‘Wait! Are you telling me I’ve been discussed between the three of you as a potential lover for Lane?’

      ‘Well … yes. But in a highly complimentary way.’

      He started laughing. ‘If I’d known Lane was that interested, I’d have moved faster and nailed her.’

      ‘It’s not funny, you … you …’

      ‘Bastard?’

      ‘Beast.’

      ‘Ouch.’

      ‘Animal. Swine, rat, skunk, dog.’

      ‘Going the whole barnyard are we?’

      ‘Brute, monster—’

      ‘Aaand I think we have it covered.’

      ‘Maybe you should have moved faster,’ she said hotly. ‘Then I wouldn’t be here now, and Adam wouldn’t be looking so miserable, and I … I … and … ooooohh. You know what? I want to punch you, even though I don’t generally punch people.’

      Could a pixie look fierce? Because that’s what Sarah looked like: a fierce pixie. He wanted to hug her. He threw his sketchpad and pencil onto the coffee table. ‘Come on. Take your best shot. Get it out of your system.’

      ‘I’m not going to punch you. I just want to.’

      ‘So unclench that fist you’ve got going there, champ,’ he said, and almost laughed again as she looked down at it as if she’d never seen her own hand before. ‘Sarah? Sarah! Listen to me.’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Yes. It’s important.’ He waited until she looked at him—well, glared at him. ‘Lane and me? It’s ancient history, and I’m not the kind of guy who looks back. So you keep me a secret, even though I think it’s stupid, that’s fine by me, no problem. But I swear, if you start getting all violent and tortured over something that did not even come close to happening …? Then not only am I going to go all cubist on your arse, but I am going to make sure your shoes don’t make it into the painting either. Got it?’

      She kept glaring at him, but finally, with a stamp of one foot, capitulated. ‘Okay! Got it! No need to have a coronary.’

      ‘Fine.’

      ‘Fine,’ she sniffed.

      ‘And I have a solution for Saturday night, so you can relax about that, too.’

      ‘What is it?’

      ‘I’ll use a false name. What do you think about Lucas Green? It has a suitably MI5 feel to it. Matches the whole “down low” ethos, don’t you think?’

      She laughed then, and he knew she didn’t want to so it charmed him all the more. ‘For a banker, you’re kind of out there, you know.’

      ‘Yes, I do seem to be these days. But then again, I’m only half a banker. So, when and where on Saturday?’

      ‘I’m meeting Erica at six o’clock at Midnight Madness in Newtown—do you know it?’

      ‘Yes, I know it. Unfortunately.’

      ‘Hey, what’s wrong with it?’

      ‘Let’s just say it attracts quite a young crowd.’

      ‘Um … yeah! In case you hadn’t noticed, I happen to be young.’

      The simple comment pulled David up short, and he looked at her, really looked at her, absorbing the truth of that. She was young—in years, in appearance, in outlook. Why was it shocking him to acknowledge that when it was the simple truth? ‘Yeah, I guess you are, aren’t you?’ he said, and stuck on a smile he couldn’t quite make himself feel. ‘Okay then, Midnight Madness it is, and I’ll try to repress my old-man shudders.’

      ‘Thank you sooooo much.’

      ‘What time should I arrive?’

      ‘Between six-thirty and seven?’

      ‘Done. Now, lean a little towards me, that way you do.’

      ‘What way?’ she asked, and David could only marvel. She really had no idea.

      ‘Like you’re going to tell me a secret.’

      ‘Like this?’ Leaning.

      ‘Perfect.’

      ‘I was just thinking …’

      ‘Hmm?’

      ‘What you said about Craig. What do I do if he calls me?’

      ‘You tell him you’re not interested. But you’ll be blocking him anyway, so he won’t be able to call.’

      ‘I will?’

      ‘You will.’

      ‘Then what will you do if he asks you about me?’

      ‘I’ll tell him you’re not interested.’

      ‘Are we sure I’m not interested?’

      ‘We’re sure. We don’t date people who wear fedoras inside bars and then don’t call us for four days.’

      She sighed. ‘Good thing I didn’t follow through on my compatibility plan, then.’

      ‘Your what?’

      ‘I’ve been weighing up the pros and cons of having sex as early as possible in a relationship. Is it something you do yourself? Have sex on the first date?’

      His pencil stopped on the page. One, two, three beats, and then he looked over at her.

      ‘So that’s an affirmative,’ she said—and talk about smug! ‘As I already knew.’

      ‘Whoa! Just— Whoa! In my case, they’re called one-night stands, because I’m not interested in a relationship. Your case is completely different.’

      She shrugged—a little too casually. ‘But it still makes sense to fast-track the easy stuff, if you ask me.’

      ‘Easy stuff? Sex is the easy stuff?’

      ‘Yes. Does the sex work—yes or no? If the answer is no, you can call it quits with minimal time wasted. If the answer is yes, you move on and explore the more emotional areas.’ Another shrug. ‘It’s like snipping off the low-hanging fruit first.’

      ‘Low-hanging—?’ David took a deep breath, and then surprised himself by bursting into laughter again. ‘Remind me to keep the scissors and my low-hanging fruit out of your reach!’

      Sarah’s eyes dropped to the front of his jeans.

      ‘Thank you!’ David said, when she started giggling. ‘Nice to know my genitalia is the source of some amusement to you.’

      ‘I haven’t actually seen it so I can’t say.’ Another giggle. ‘Although I certainly felt it last week in the storeroom.’

      ‘It’s