Teresa Morgan - Plus One is a Lucky Number

“Sophie, this is Adam Reid.”

She nodded and smiled. “I know.” She’d attended a couple of meetings which he’d been at, and could count – on one hand – how many words she’d spoken to him.

“Oh, sorry, I’m in your seat.” Adam stood up, and Sophie had to look up into his blue eyes. They shook hands. He had a firm, professional handshake. She could feel the warmth from his palm in her own.

She shuffled along the bench as some of their colleagues moved from the table, and she gestured to Adam to sit. As he did, she caught a whiff of his aftershave and heat instantly rushed up her neck.

“Adam’s an account manager in Sales and Marketing,” James said. Hence, he looked smart and she and James didn’t. Working in the design department allowed them a more casual dress code. He must think we’re a right pair.

“I know that, too,” she said, placing her handbag on the table. Some said he was the best in the marketing department supporting the company’s biggest clients. Sophie wasn’t going to forget his cool, confident attitude in a hurry. Adam Reid had dominated the meetings she’d sat in a couple of times. His smooth, deep voice, combined with his good looks, had made it very hard for her to concentrate on what he’d been saying. James once told her Adam had started on the factory floor. She doubted he ever got his hands dirty now, but it hadn’t stopped her watching his strong, masculine hands, and picturing what they could do.

He rubbed his thumb along the condensation on his pint glass.

Stop looking at his hands.

“Sophie works with me,” James said to Adam.

“I’d worked that one out, James.” Adam winked at her. “Aren’t you lucky working with such a bright spark?”

“Someone has to work with him. I drew the short straw,” she said, nervously smiling back, finding it very hard to meet his eyes and not blush. The bottom of her wine glass was easier to look at. “I’ve managed to put up with him for almost a year.” Adam chuckled.

“Hey, you two!” James laughed and reached for his pint, but knocked Sophie’s full wine glass over, spilling the contents on her handbag.

All three of them jumped to their feet. Cheers and laughter came from a neighbouring table. James righted the glass.

“Oh, hell, sorry.”

“James,” she huffed, as she scrambled to empty her bag onto a dry part of the table and shake it out. Some of the contents fell through the gaps of the picnic table and onto the ground. She mumbled a curse. Luckily her bag had got most of it, not her clothes - the last thing she needed, especially in front of Adam.

Adam reacted quickly, grabbing clean paper napkins from another table and soaked up the wine.

“What’s this?” James picked up a card, battered and now soggy, from underneath the table. Sophie tried to snatch it, but he held it away from her.

“A wedding invitation.” James looked at Sophie, then Adam, his eyebrows raised. “For next weekend.”

“James, please give it to me.” She tried reaching for it again, but he raised it so she couldn’t grab the card.

Sod him for being so tall.

Lowering his arm, he read further. “‘To Sophie Trewyn and guest’. You never said anything about this.”

Sophie wanted the ground to swallow her up.. Please don’t let this be happening. Not here.

“No, because I’m not going,” she said coolly.

“Why? Aren’t weddings supposed to be fun? All that free food and drink.” He playfully grinned. “Isn’t that right, Adam?”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” Adam shrugged. “I’ll go get Sophie another drink.”

James nodded, and before she could say not to bother, Adam had walked off.

“So?” James sat down, giving Sophie an interrogating look.

Sophie, relieved that Adam had gone to the bar, rolled her eyes and sat back down at their table. She pulled tissues from her jacket pocket and started wiping her bag. “I have a mountain of stuff to do and I can’t afford to take the time off from work either.”

“Rubbish!”

“And well, they’re not really close friends or anything.”

Who are you kidding?

“It’s an all day invitation, so you must mean something to them,” James said.

Sophie looked down, unable to meet James’ gaze. It galled her to admit this, even to James. “I'm not sure I can face going on my own.”

“Oh.” James’ smile dropped. “You don’t have an ‘and guest’, do you?”

“You know I don’t,” she hissed.

“Well, you should still go. Might find yourself a nice man.”

Sophie cringed, but hoped her expression didn’t show. “James, I’m too busy with work.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Bollocks.”

Sophie let out a sigh, glancing around the pub garden. Could anyone hear? “It’s complicated.” Then she lowered her voice, “I don’t know if I can handle the ‘why is a pretty girl like you still single?’ speeches.”

She remembered the family gathering last Christmas, all tucked around the dinner table about to tuck into the turkey. Her Aunt Veronica, with too much sherry inside her, started harping on at her. ‘Isn’t it time you found yourself a boyfriend, rather than follow that career of yours?’ She hadn’t let it rest all day. Her insides turned cold, even now. Not to mention the endless ‘So how’s your love life these days Soph?’ from a variety of younger, male cousins. ‘Still single, eh?’

Irritated, she snatched the wedding invitation from an unsuspecting James. She didn’t exactly date much, but she couldn’t admit that, could she? It wasn’t that she was shy. In fact she used to be much more outgoing … and why she had thought that she might have found someone to go with her. The months had whizzed by and her only social outlet was The White Lion on a Friday night. It was her own fault. She should have gone out more, accepted James and Kate’s invitations.

"I'd go with you, for the champagne and food of course!” James said, smiling. Sophie clicked her tongue. “But as you know I’m going –”

“Yes, to that bloody meeting in Manchester.” Most of her colleagues were going next Friday and tonight they’d been talking about extending it to the weekend. Sophie wished she was attending. It would be the perfect excuse. But she’d actually booked the time off ages ago in preparation for the wedding. Months ago she’d psyched herself up, telling herself that she could attend it. Now it came to actually going, her confidence had gone. “Besides, I don’t think Kate would appreciate you going away with me for a weekend.”

“True. She likes you a lot, Sophie. But even Kate might find that difficult to swallow.” He laughed. “But what if Kate went with you?”

Sophie smiled, understanding James’ offer, though not particularly enamoured he was still pressing the matter. “You’re sweet. Thank you, but it’s not really a case –”

“Soph, come on. Would you go if you had someone to go with?”

“Um … ” Yes, she would. But did it sound pathetic? She frowned. Adam walked towards them carrying a glass of wine and a greying dishcloth.

“Sorry, queue at the bar,” he said, handing Sophie her glass. She wasn’t sure if it were true, yet was glad he’d taken his time.

James suddenly beamed. “Adam, you’ll go with Sophie, won’t you?”

Sophie nearly spat out her wine.

“What?” He stared at James, shocked – or horrified even? – stopping mid-wipe with the cloth.

Sophie waved her hands in protest. “Seriously, it’s not that big a deal. I’ll cancel.” She took a gulp of her wine, Dutch courage was really required now.

“No, no, no.” James placed his hand on hers and squeezed it. Once he had an idea in his head, he didn’t stop or even listen. “Adam, you’ll do it, won’t you?”