Chapter 3: Date Night

I parked up in front of Paige’s house just a few minutes before seven and got out of the car to go and knock on her door. I wasn’t even halfway up the garden path when the door opened and Paige came out dressed in a cute little yellow summer dress that complimented her golden locks hanging in loose curls around her shoulders.

“Come on,” she said, taking my arm and hurrying us back towards the car. “If we get any closer to the house, Mum will drag you in for the third degree.”

I arched an eyebrow at her, but she shook her head and steered me back towards the car. Before we got to the end of the path, the door behind us opened and a woman who looked like an older version of Paige called out, “Have fun tonight, Sweetheart, but if you’re staying out all night, just send me a text to let me know, okay? Oh, and don’t forget to use protection!”

“Muuuum,” Paige whined as she tried to hide behind me and drag me to the car all at the same time. She hurried to get in the car and looked anxious to leave.

As I started the engine and pulled away from the kerb, she asked, “So, what are we doing tonight?” She tried to sound upbeat and hide the embarrassment she clearly felt over her mother.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “What do you fancy?”

“Honestly? I’m starving. I haven’t eaten yet, so...”

“Okay. There’s this little Italian place just off the seafront that Will took me to for my birthday last year.”

“Capellos?”

“That’s the one.”

“I’ve heard it’s nice there. I know Will takes clients there sometimes. but I’ve never been.”

“Okay. We’ll go there,” I said, making a right-hand turn at the junction to head towards the centre of town.

“Are you sure? I mean...”

“If you’re asking if it’s expensive, don’t. I don’t know. If it is, we’ll go somewhere else.”

She nodded.

We didn’t speak for a while and I noticed her looking out of the passenger window while I kept my eyes on the road. But then she said, without looking at me, “Please don’t think badly of me.”

I glanced at her and said, “Huh?”

She finally looked at me and said, “For still living at my Mum’s. I’ve been looking to get my own place, I really have, but everything is so expen—”

“Hey,” I said, risking a glance at her. “Forget about it. How many people our age live on their own? Most still live with their parents. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“You don’t, though. Do you?”

“That’s different. And if I could still be living at home with my parents, believe me, I would be.”

She looked out of the window and quietly said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

She turned to look at me again, then said, “We haven’t gotten off to a good start tonight, have we?”

We were at a set of traffic lights, so I could look at her and smile. “Want to start again?”

She grinned. “Shall we?”

I winked at her and put the car in gear as the lights had gone green. We didn’t speak again until I’d parked the car in one of the seafront bays and we got out to walk to the restaurant. It wasn’t an awkward journey, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. I started to wonder if this evening was a good idea. If things continued to go badly, it might affect our relationship at work. Our desks were next to each other. That could prove to be awkward.

“We could go dancing after we’ve eaten,” Paige said as we crossed the road. “In Central Pier.”

I chuckled.

“What?” she said, sounding hurt.

I shook my head. “Nothing. I just ... I went to Central Pier a lot with my friends last year. I guess I think of it as a student bar. But it’s not really, is it?”

“No! No way. It’s the best club in town.” She smirked. “Actually, it spoils it when the students are in. They can be so... rowdy.”

I smiled at her. “I can’t disagree with you. Some of my friends are certainly... rowdy.” I paused. “We used to go to Porky’s a lot too.”

“Now that’s a student bar. You wouldn’t catch me dead in that dump.”

“It’s cheap though. You don’t need to take out a loan to get a drink.”

She laughed. As did I. And I felt myself relax just a little bit. I think she relaxed a bit too.

At Capellos, we were seated at a table for two in an alcove at the back of the restaurant and I ordered a bottle of wine as we looked at the menu.

“Paul...” Paige said through gritted teeth.

“What?” I whispered back.

“You said if it was expensive we’d go somewhere else. Sorry, but I can’t afford these prices.”

“So? You’re not paying.”

“Of course, I am! I always pay my share.”

“Not tonight. I asked you out. I’ll pay the bill.”

“But that’s not fair. And besides, how can you afford it? You’re a student working in your holiday. There’s no way they’re paying you more than they pay me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can cover it. Just ... order something nice and stop worrying.”

She looked uncomfortable with the idea. What did I do now? The prices at Capellos were on the high side, but I could easily afford them. But how did I tell Paige that without making it sound like I was bragging? And if I told her about my wealth—for want of a better word—what would that mean? How would she feel about it? Would she turn into a gold digger? Or would she run a mile, thinking she wasn’t good enough for someone with money or something stupid like that?

I watched her as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat and studied the menu. I wondered what she was thinking. Was she looking for the cheapest thing on the menu?

“Paige?” I said. She looked at me but didn’t answer. “Order what you want, okay? Not what you think I can afford.”

“But—”

“But nothing. You can buy me a drink in Central Pier. That’ll make up for it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Pier’s expensive, but not that expensive.” But she went back to looking at the menu. We made some suggestions to each other, and I noticed that she was suggesting the cheaper items, but I didn’t say anything about it. Eventually, we decided and I called the waitress over to order. Then we sipped our wine while we waited for the food to arrive. We’d skipped starters but ordered some garlic bread to share as a side which would come before the main courses. I suppose that, technically, that makes it a starter, doesn’t it?

“Paul?” She said as I bit into a slice of garlic bread. Was garlic bread a good choice for a date? I suppose if we were both eating it, it didn’t matter. I covered my mouth as I chewed and answered with my eyes that she should go ahead and say whatever it was that was on her mind.

“I have a confession to make.”

I swallowed, took a quick sip of wine and said, “Go on...”

She took a deep breath. “I...” She looked down at the table. “I looked you up. On the database at work.” Then she looked up at me. Waiting.

I knew exactly what this meant—I’d looked myself up on the database as soon as I’d had access. I was a client of the firm. There were all sorts of details in the database.

“I know I shouldn’t have done it, but ... When Will sent the e-mail around saying you were coming for some work experience ... I heard all these rumours and ... I know I shouldn’t ... I never expected ... I’m sorry, Paul, I really am.”

“Hey,” I said, smiling. “It’s okay. This is actually easier.” I tried to put the best spin on the situation I could. I was thinking on my feet. Sometimes that was a good thing. Sometimes, not so much. “I guess, this way, you already know everything. I don’t need to hide anything from you or worry what you might think when you find out.”

She half-smiled. “I don’t know if I know everything. Only what was in the files.”

“Which is.”

“Like you don’t know. I bet you looked yourself up on the first day.”