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pleasant sensation where his hand was on my arm. Strangely, I was in no hurry for him to let go. Now, that was unanticipated. And it seemed I did have some sort of say in it; I could pick the day. Well, lucky me!
    “Tomorrow any time after lunch.”
    I didn’t want the weekend worrying about it. Unfortunately his excuse for touching me seemed to have expired and he removed his hand. Somehow I felt bereft, yearning for his fingers.
    Every time I saw Michael that afternoon, he seemed to be looking at me pensively. I wondered if he was regretting asking me out. For starters, he was a department head; there was always a risk that his invitation could be misconstrued. And I’d no idea if the store had any policy on interpersonal relationships. I’d say it was the least constructive day he’d ever spent in his life because he seemed to be doing naff all except thinking and staring through his open door whenever I walked past.
    The rest of the day was spent in wishing it away, partly because I hated being under his scrutiny, but also because I had to prepare and think about what to wear. Of course I couldn’t really decide that until he’d made some arrangements. A surprise date might seem exciting and romantic, but on a practical level, it was a pain in the arse.
    During the coffee break I nipped down to the lingerie department and bought that underwear I’d seen at my interview. Home time eventually crawled around and as I was making my way out, having picked up my bag, Michael was walking back towards his office.
    “I’ll call you tonight,” he promised with a wink.
    Bloody hell, I thought, did I just imagine it or did Michael Henrii just wink at me? I didn’t know he had it in him to be playful.
    “Ok, catch you later,” I said, hoping I’d hit a nonchalant note.
    I was on high dough as I fought my way through the Friday evening commuter mayhem. I was hardly aware of the pushing and shoving that usually irritated the hell out of me. Michael’s face was in front of me and my arm still seemed to glow from his touch.
    I was excited, but scared as hell. I couldn’t wait to tell the girls. I was really surprised at myself; four weeks ago I thought he was the most arrogant prat I’d ever met. I still did in a way, but I had managed to gain his approval at last and somehow that seemed to change things.
    I was first home. I put on the water for the inevitable preening session that I’d have to undergo. I couldn’t even remember when I’d last shaved my legs; since I’d been undergoing a man drought I hadn’t been bothered, my hairs were fine and light and I could get away with it. I opened a bottle of Shiraz and poured myself a glass as I sang, well, more crowed, away to the radio. I heard the door open and Tara and Claire were chatting as they arrived in together.
    “Shiv, you have to come clubbing tonight,” was Tara’s greeting as she barged through the door. Obviously she’d already tried Claire to no avail.
    “No chance, I’ve a hot date tomorrow and tonight is going to be spent primping and preening,” I said resolutely.
    “Ya wha’?” Tara said incredulously, “with who?”
    “Michael,” I grinned.
    “Fuck off, no way, ya jammy bitch,” she eloquently replied after she picked her jaw up from the floor. “Seriously, Shiv?”
    “Well, thanks very much, am I that bad?”
    “You’re lovely! Don’t mind that wagon, she’s just jealous, she hasn’t shut up about him since she met him in Covent Garden,” Claire intervened.
    “Y’know I’m only messin’, I’m green with envy.”
    “I know,” I agreed. I was way too distracted to be taking offence at Tara’s off-the-cuff remarks. I knew her long enough by now to know she meant no harm. I poured them both a glass of wine. I was dithering whether or not to get into the bath as Michael hadn’t rang yet. I didn’t want to have to answer the phone to him with the sound of water sloshing around.
    By nine p.m. I’d had enough of sitting