’ Tom’s fists were clenching, his knuckles alternating between white and a reddish purple. ‘Touché,’ admitted Sam, the leer abandoning his m...uth but not his eyes. ‘Forget I mentioned her – sorry about that.’ His friend slowly unclenched his fists, stretching his fingers as if to re-engage the blood flow. ‘But I still don’t believe your imaginary executive suite pal’s story,’ continued Sam. Tom reluctantly parked himself back in his chair. ‘Your choice,’ said Tom, a slight smile tickling the. I’m normally a red wine type of girl but I wasn’t going to complain. In contrast to the cold drink, I was conscious of the warmth of her body almost squashed against me on the small couch. I think we were both feeling shy as the silence lingered until I couldn’t stand it any longer. “You have a lovely flat.” “Thanks, I know it looks a bit old-fashioned.” “It’s unusual but nice.” “My dad dabbles in the antiques business. I guess it rubbed off on me.” “So, do I get the grand tour?” “It’s not that. More

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