Match Me If You Can. Michele Gorman

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       Chapter Ten

       Catherine

      Catherine hurried to the bar, wishing she’d changed into her ballerina flats for the walk. But after feeling frumpy in her jumper the last time she met Richard, she was back in uniform. The gunmetal grey suede heels perfectly matched her wrap dress. They were worth the bunion-bashing.

      Richard hadn’t asked her for drinks in months before his wedding announcement. Then dinner with Magda and now this. It could only mean one thing. He had news, and she just bet it wasn’t good. She still felt strangely unsettled after meeting him and Magda. Nothing concrete had put her off, just a sixth sense. It was the same sense making her suspicious now.

      At least Magda wasn’t joining them.

      Her anger flickered when she saw that he hadn’t yet turned up. What was so important in his life that he got to be late?

      At first she’d genuinely believed that his other work commitments were the sole reason for his dwindling commitment to RecycLove. But there’d been too many flimsy excuses. He’d definitely become more selfish since meeting Magda.

      She felt like telling him that. They were business partners first and foremost. She’d have no trouble speaking to one of her staff who wasn’t pulling their weight.

      Ten minutes passed with no sign of him.

      Richard, you’re so rude, she texted. I’m leaving in two minutes if you’re not here.

      She heard a phone ping behind her.

      ‘I got our wine,’ he said, setting the ice bucket on the table and kissing her cheek. He smelled of an unfamiliar cologne that made her think of car fresheners.

      ‘You’re late.’

      ‘Nice to see you too. And I’m not late. I was in the building, at the bar getting our drinks.’

      ‘I didn’t see you there.’

      ‘That’s because you’re too vain to wear your glasses.’ He poured the wine.

      ‘You know I hate it when you order for me.’

      It was a habit he’d carried over from their marriage.

      ‘You always drink white. What’s got you in such a strop tonight?’

      ‘I don’t have a lot of time,’ she snapped. ‘I have to meet Rachel in an hour. And you are late.’

      ‘I feel sorry for Rachel then. You’re in a mood. Cheers. So how was your day, dear?’

      It was no use. Richard never rose to argumentative bait. He was the worst person imaginable to pick a fight with. ‘It was busy, as usual,’ she said, reaching for her wine. He was right. It was exactly what she wanted.

      ‘Because of the new clients?’

      ‘Partly.’

      ‘And the makeover service, I guess. I’ve been thinking. We should roll it out to everyone.’

      ‘Everyone?! Richard, do you realise how much more work that would mean?’ She could barely get through her day as it was.

      ‘You could charge for it, of course. Then you could hire more consultants. And you said yourself that it wasn’t taking too much time.’

      ‘Yes, for two clients. It would be too much for the whole business.’

      That was so typically Richard. He’d always underestimated the details.

      Her mind flicked back to their move to America. Case in point.

      Richard had made everything sound so simple when he got the offer to work in Washington DC. It was an adventure and she was welcome to come along.

      ‘Come along?’ she’d asked. ‘Come along?! What is that supposed to mean? Come along as what, exactly?’

      ‘Well, as my girlfriend, at least for now,’ he’d said, looking perplexed. ‘We don’t really have time to get married before we go. We’ll have to do it there. Or fly back to the UK after I start work if you want.’

      ‘You’re asking me to marry you?’ she’d whispered.

      ‘Well I assumed we would. Didn’t you?’

      So that was her marriage proposal. Well I assumed we would.