One Step Too Far Read Online Free PDF Page A

hadn’t – nearly 3,000 people worked in the building, she'd discovered. She even considered another parachuting weekend, but held off (please God no), confident each Monday morning that this week she’d see him. His apparent disappearance made her more infatuated, more determined – which was quite unlike her – but then she’d never been smitten before. She even found she grew to enjoy the waiting – she’d wake up in anticipation, relish the daily thrill of scouring the basement canteen for his curly dark head, glance around reception on her way in and out, nerves on high alert, every day offering up countless possibilities for them to meet, every day thwarted.
    Emily awoke late on a dark February morning where the rain was so heavy deep puddles gleamed orange from the street lamps. Either her alarm hadn’t gone off, or she’d slept through it, she wasn’t sure which, she was so hungover. Her head was killing her, but she had to go in – she had an important meeting that afternoon, and besides it was Friday, only one more day to get through before the weekend. She made herself a strong tea, ate a banana and took some pills, then stood for 15 minutes under the shower and although by the time she came out she felt marginally better, she was running horrendously late now. She threw on the easiest outfit, a plain red belted dress and boots, scraped her wet hair back and didn’t bother with makeup, she could do that when she got to the office. She put on the orange anorak she usually wore for walking and it looked terrible with the dress, it was too short and the wrong colour, but she didn’t care, it was raining for God’s sake.
    By the time she parked her car an hour later she was still feeling wretched. She didn’t feel ready to face work, let alone face Ben walking towards her, away from the office, takeaway coffee in hand, girl in tow. This was not one of her many scenarios of how they might meet. She panicked, blushed, said hi and hurried off. He was more attractive than she remembered – his hair had grown, his suit was well-cut, shoes polished, dark brown wool tie not quite that of a newly qualified accountant. He hadn’t seemed particularly pleased to see her – friendly but unmoved. The girl was not his girlfriend, she knew that much – not his type, not her! She’d convinced herself that once they did finally see each other again, it would all just happen – they’d stop, have a chat, arrange a coffee, and that would be it. Instead she’d looked about as awful as she possibly could have, and he’d been with someone else. It was a shambles.
    For three months Emily had been fine, but now she wasn’t – she just couldn’t wait any longer. She threw off her revolting anorak, flung it on the back of her chair, sat down and considered her options. Visit the 17 th floor expressly to see him – wander about until she found his desk, ask to talk to him privately, trawl around for an empty room, all eyes on them? Hideous. Pretend she had other business on the 17 th floor, saunter up and say hello as she passed? Too contrived – and as she didn’t know where he sat she could hardly saunter. Look up his number and call him? Better, less public. Or send him an email? The easiest but in a way the most tortuous – what if he didn’t reply? What if he didn’t get it? She needed to start this right now, today.
    She looked up his email address in the directory. “Hi Ben,” she wrote. “Good to see you today. Will you have a drink with me tonight? It’s important. Let me know, either reply to this mail or here’s my number. Thanks, Emily.”
    She hit send and sat back in her chair, relieved. She’d done it, it was happening at last. She felt absolute resolve that she’d done the right thing, after all it was obvious he’d liked her. She checked her schedule – nothing apart from the meeting after lunch that she’d come in for, he’d have called her by then.
    By five o’clock Emily was