And the Bride Wore Red

It was time for common sense to take over. In a few minutes she would suggest that the evening should end soon, phrasing it carefully. She began to plan the words, even deciding what she would say when he protested.

Lang was beckoning to Wei, paying the bill, and ordering him to stop giggling and make himself scarce. Wei departed jauntily. Olivia took a deep breath to make her speech.

‘We’d better go,’ Lang said.

‘Pardon?’

‘We both have to work tomorrow, so I’ll get you home quickly. I’m sorry to have kept you out so late.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ she said faintly.

On the journey she wondered what was going to happen now. Lang had recognised that she wasn’t ready for a decision, while subtly implying that he was attracted to her. He was charming and funny, with a quiet, gentle strength that appealed to her, perhaps because she could sense something quirky and irreverent beneath it.

A light-hearted flirtation could be agreeable, but if he wanted more, if he planned to end the evening in her arms—or even in her apartment—what then? A gentle let-down? How did you half-reject someone you more than half-liked? Again she began to think about what she would say to him.

When they arrived, he came with her to the apartment block.

‘How far up are you?’ he asked.

‘Second floor.’

He rode up with her and came to her door.

‘Lang?’ she began uneasily.

‘Yes?’

She lost her nerve. ‘Would you care to come in for a drink?’

‘I certainly want to come in, but not for a drink. Let’s get inside and I’ll explain, although I’m sure you know what the problem is.’

Once inside he took off his jacket and helped her off with hers.