“Sacha.”
“Helga. What do you want from me?”
“I want to get drunk with you.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Helga slid a sly look to Sacha’s pocket. “I want to see how long you can hold out before you run out on us for whoever is blowing up your phone.”
“This long.” The lift doors opened. Sacha stepped out and strode to the revolving doors that would take him outside.
Helga followed and chivalry made him wait and walk her across the street to the pub where the Blutecc team had decamped after the day from hell.
“Just one drink,” she said.
Sacha shook his head. “No. Thank you. You have my credit card, yes? Use it to pay for the drinks and I will see you on Monday.”
“But—”
“Goodnight.”
Sacha pushed her into the pub, pulled the door shut behind her, and walked away. Helga had proved an unflinching ally in recent days, and he was glad to know her, but he had zero interest in confirming her suspicions about his phone were correct.
He walked to the tube station before he let himself look.
JG:Come to Farringdon.Castle Inn, by the sandwich shop.
Sacha navigated the busy underground station to the correct line and caught the next train. It was jam-packed, and he squeezed himself into a gap at the end of the carriage. Bodies pressed against him, elbows and knees digging in. Scowling, Sacha squared his shoulders, claiming the space around him, and scanned the message thread between him and Jonah again. Despite all he’d said to Helga, he couldn’t help questioning his sanity at ditching his own team’s Friday night drinks to join whatever fuckery the Flash Gray staff called fun. It said a lot about Jonah’s bewitching powers that Sacha was even considering it, let alone that he was halfway to Farringdon already.
Sacha:later, Jonah Gray.
JG:Given that you’re using my whole name, can I assume it’s you, Ivanov?
Sacha:you can assume whatever you like.
JG:Can I buy you a drink too?
Sacha:maybe. I thought you were out with your team
JG:I am…for now. And I think they want to buy you a drink too, especially Carl and Nico.
Sacha:I do not know these people.
JG:And yet you saved the day for them this morning. Let them spend money on you.
Sacha:and then what?
JG:Then I believe your…friend owes you dinner.
Sacha:I believe he does.
JG:Come to Farringdon.Castle Inn, next to the sandwich shop.
Sacha hadn’t replied to confirm he was on his way. His fingers hovered over the buttons, but hesitation stilled them. Disquiet. Doubt. Dashing across the city for an unspecific rendezvous was as ludicrous as it had been to go home with Jonah the night before, and this time, they’d have an audience, a prospect that made Sacha’s skin crawl.Go home then. No one’s making you go.But Sacha stayed on the train. Got off at Farringdon and emerged above ground with laser focus on the pub across the street.
Maybe it is you who is the idiot.
Sacha had no answer to that. He crossed the road and entered the pub, absorbing the wall of noise from the lively weekend crowd, and familiar enough with the FG team to believe he would spot them easily enough, but as he scanned the faces around him, bracing himself against the overloud Christmas music, he found none that he recognised, not even Jonah’s.