“I’m taking you to dinner.”
“Dressed like this? I don’t think—”
“Of course you can!” Sadie interrupted. “You look stunning just as you are.”
Harvey took my hand and let me away. “Come on, listen to the woman. She knows what she’s on about.”
“What about Sadie?” I asked, feeling a little peculiar that he wasn’t asking his actual girlfriend to join us.
“You think I want to look at his ugly mug any longer? I have enough of that here all day. Anyway, I have my girl to get home to.”
“Ouch, ugly?” Harvey said, bringing a hand up to his chest as if he’d been wounded. “You don’t half know how to kick a man where it hurts. You ice queen!”
“Jerk!” Sadie stuck her tongue out at him between her ruby red lips.
My head was too wrapped up in the fact that he’d called me sweetheart, fighting the urge to swoon, that I almost didn’t hear Sadie’s response and Harvey’s teasing. But I did wonder, who was the girl she was referring to? A kid at home, or maybe a pet…?
“Come on,” Harvey urged, and I finally let him haul me out of the office. I followed him downtown, walking a fraction of a step behind him, taking the opportunity to study him from the side. It made my heart skip a beat.
I must’ve shivered, too, ‘cause all of a sudden he slung an arm around my shoulder and pulled me in, his wonderful smell hitting my nostrils as he smushed me up against his frame. We walked a bit farther, and I started to notice the looks we were getting from passing women, their eyes bulging as they stared at him, then turning to confusion and even envy as they saw me. Harvey seemed to be oblivious to it, but I wasn’t. Their eyes were hungry and desperate as they passed, shooting daggers my way. But it only made me want to hold onto him longer and enjoy how his hold tightened a fraction if I pulled away slightly.
“Are you liking the job so far?” he asked after a silent moment.
“Yes, totally. A big difference from scooping poop at the animal shelter… and there’s a pretty big tick in the plus column: I’m getting paid!”
He laughed. “I’m glad. And don’t mind Sadie, you’ll get used to her. She has her rough edges, but you’ll see, she’s great.”
My smile faded a little, but I didn’t let him see, and I tried to change the subject.
“Of course, I’ll have to get accustomed to all the sitting and the typing, but I’ll adjust.”
Harvey pulled us to a stop, and his eyes found mine. A line of concentration and concern flickered in his eyes. “Is it too much?”
I shook my head and gave him a reassuring smile. “Not at all, I’ll get used to it. I’m just tired today. You should seriously invest in some new office chairs, though.”
“I could find you another position if you want,” he offered.
“No, Harvey. I’m good, really. I don’t need you babying me just because I haven’t taken a proper job in three years.”
“OK, if you’re sure,” he mumbled distractedly, but we continued to walk again. I didn’t want him worrying about me all the time; I was a full-grown woman, and though it was nice for him to think of me, I couldn’t rely on him forever.
We paused in front of an Italian restaurant. I glanced up at him with a questioning gaze—it was a bit fancy.
“I eat here all the time. I think you’ll love it,” He said as he reached out and pulled the door to La Caverna open for me, waiting patiently as I stepped inside and felt the welcoming, warm air that contained myriad heartening herbs and spices.
“Welcome, Mr Guyer. I see you brought a guest with you. A rare occurrence. I guess you won’t want your usual table for one then?” the aged maître d' said as he grinned at me.
“Very perceptive, Carlo,” Harvey teased. “Table for two, please.”
Carlo nodded, collected a couple of menus and led us to a table out of the main thoroughfare. The old man pulled out my chair and I thanked him, sitting down and bringing my forearms to rest on the white tablecloth. As soon as Harvey took his place, Carlo handed us the menus.
“I’ll give you two some time to order. I presume you would like the same wine as usual, sir?”
“You know me too well, Carlo. Thank you.”
I peered around the room, feeling on edge. The place was so fancy, it oozed wealth… and romance, and I was totally out of my element. The people at the other tables were dressed to the nines, sharing candlelight dinners and holding hands across the small, round tables.
“Is something wrong, Sara?” Harvey asked when I hadn’t lifted the leather-bound menu.
“We should’ve persuaded Sadie to come…”
“Why?” he said, frowning.
“It’s so intimate,” I whispered, “surely you’d rather be here with her than me.”
“Don’t be silly. We’re here to celebrate your first day. It was a bit of a rollercoaster, but you got through it,” he said, beaming.
“You’re right, today was a big day…” Both of us knew exactly what we were referring to. Carlos had brought a bottle of rich-looking red wine and, when Harvey had tasted and approved it, poured us each a glass. I lifted mine. “Here’s to the future. Here’s to moving on.”
“Atta girl,” Harvey replied as we clinked glasses.
After looking through the list, I settled for a pan-fried scallop salad for starters and a pasta dish for my main. Harvey insisted on sticking with his usual, a lamb dish with crispy prosciutto, and a tomato and mozzarella bruschetta to start.
I took another sip of wine and smiled as we waited, the candlelight from the table flickering, making his eyes dance as he watched me. An abrupt cramping in my stomach startled me. I frowned lightly and bit down my lower lip, willing the unexpected nausea to go away. Harvey leaned closer as I tried to hold back another wave rolling around in my stomach. The queasiness was making me break out in a sweat, and my clammy fingers reached for the glass of water by my wine.
I took a sip, urging my stomach to be calm.
“Sara?” he asked, worried.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I blurted, scrambling to my feet and running for the bathroom.
17
Sara
I had just managed to find the bathroom when my stomach rolled again, and I stumbled into an open cubicle. At the sight of the toilet lid propped up, I vomited. Bile rose at the back of my throat, and more perspiration broke out on my face as my fingers tightened around my hair, keeping the thick strands back.
My chest heaved again, and my stomach muscles contracted, hurling out my breakfast and meagre lunch. Must’ve been the tuna.
I didn’t know how long I stayed there. Wave after wave of nausea kept me pinned on the floor, my forearms embracing the toilet rim and my mouth open, gasping for oxygen. Slowly the feeling faded, and with my stomach empty and my arms shaky, I got to my feet.
My legs trembled. I braced myself until I reached the row of basins and cleaned myself up.
I reached out and pulled a few tissues down from the dispenser and wiped my mouth, hating the bitter taste of my vomit. I put a hand in my bag and searched for gum, a breath mint… anything to take the taste away. Finding nothing, I closed my eyes and wondered what I’d eaten to cause this sudden reaction. I created a mental list of everything I’d consumed that day. Two pieces of toast, one banana and that stingy tuna sandwich from the deli around the corner from the office.
It had to be the fish. It couldn’t be anything else.
My eyes popped open, and I counted back the days in my head, but I got flustered. I pulled out my phone instead and used the calendar app to help me calculate.