‘But I do have to go,’ he said. ‘I’ve a meeting I need to attend in about an hour.’
‘With the people you were with at the bar the other night?’ I’ve no idea why I assumed that, or why I thought it was any of my business.
‘Yes,’ Rhys said. He got to his feet, and I came out from behind my desk which I was beginning to think I’d been using as a safety barrier – not to keep him away, but more to keep me from getting inappropriately close.
‘Actually, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to drop the sketch off in person this morning.’
For some reason he suddenly appeared a little less self-assured. There was a look of hesitancy on his face that I couldn’t remember seeing there before.
‘Those people are part of a design team I worked with on a huge campaign before I went freelance.’
I nodded, wondering where he was going with this.
‘Anyway, we did quite well, and the campaign has been shortlisted for this prestigious industry award.’
‘Oh, well done. Congratulations.’
His smile was like quicksilver, there one second and gone the next.
‘Anyway, there’s a big ceremony thing next week. Black tie, red carpet, that kind of thing.’
He paused and I nodded, unsure what I was meant to add here. I decided to play it safe. ‘Wow. Again, congratulations.’
‘Will you come with me?’
My lips parted, but nothing came out.
Yes, I’d love to was right there on my tongue, but for the life of me I couldn’t find the trigger to release it.
Rhys gave a disarming shrug. ‘I realise it might not be your kind of thing, and it’s perfectly okay if you don’t fancy it. It’ll probably be terribly dull, lots of stuffed shirts and endless clapping.’
‘I love stuffed shirts,’ I said, perfectly aware I was talking nonsense. ‘And I’m excellent at clapping.’
‘I could tell you had skills.’
His grin landed about a second before mine did.
‘Okay then. I’ll message you with the details.’
‘Great!’ I was already mentally rifling through my wardrobe and knowing a shopping trip was on the horizon.
We were about to take the next step on this curious journey we were on, moving us in a direction I hadn’t expected. Was it wise? Probably not. Was I going to do it anyway? Absolutely.
‘Well, if you want my opinion, the blue one makes your boobs look amazing, and your cleavage in the red one could take someone’s eye out.’
I turned away from my reflection in the changing room mirror and shook my head despairingly at my friend.
‘Could we possibly focus more on the dresses and less on how my breasts fit into them?’
Mel tutted, like a plumber confronted by some tricky pipework. ‘I dunno, Ellie. I mean they’re just kind of... there, in your face.’
‘Then we keep looking,’ I said, turning to my shopping companion and scooping up a handful of hair to give her easy access to the zip.
Mel obligingly released me from the red dress with a muttered, ‘I can’t help thinking you’re making a mistake here.’
‘It’s just not the impression I want to make.’
Mel nodded sagely. ‘So, just to clarify. You don’t want to look drop-dead gorgeous and sexy as hell on this date?’