Mark Hamilton looked startled under his tan. He was wearing a white shirt open at the collar and his Adam’s apple moved up and down like an air bubble in a straw.
‘Erm.’ Mark’s glance darted around wildly as if trying to locate inspiration in the space around him. His gaze fixed on the glass in front of him and his face dropped with relief.
‘Got it. Drinks!’
‘Great choice.’ Will nodded. ‘So let’s start with Paula. What drink would you say Mark was?’
Paula blinked and pulled her face inwards so the entire thing rested on the cushion of flesh under her chin.
‘Drink? Er . . .’ She looked around the table for help.
‘It doesn’t have to be clever, Paula. Just say the first thing that comes to mind. As long as it’s clean.’ Will chuckled to himself. Paula, who was anyway looking flustered, now turned the deep pink of farmed salmon.
Then, ‘Hot chocolate!’ she practically yelled. ‘Because he’s warm . . . and tasty.’
A roar of laughter went up around the table, genuine this time. Paula’s hand flew to her mouth as she realized what she’d said.
Will raised his own hand. ‘It’s fine, Paula. That’s the whole point of it – it’s supposed to be fun. Right, Charlie. If Paula was a drink, what would she be?’
‘G and T,’ said Charlie, and for a horrible moment Amira thought he was going to say something about her being colourless, but instead, he said something clever about her either being neat, or a tonic.
Amira’s mind was so busy whirring through the possibilities for Sarah that she didn’t hear what Sarah said about Charlie; however, she was aware of a polite murmur. Sarah was a Bloody Mary, she said – red and with a hidden kick. Amira ignored Sarah’s questioning sideways glance at that last description, concentrating on what Rachel was about to say about her. There was a sharp intake of breath when Rachel described Amira as Guinness – ‘Smooth and you have to wait ages for her.’ Amira realized that the others probably thought Rachel was having a go at her timekeeping, whereas she alone knew it was a comment on how long it had taken her to decide she was interested in Paula’s job.
Ewan predictably described Rachel as champagne – sparkling and expensive and very classy. As Will was sitting on his other side, the game skipped a seat and moved on to the person in the next chair. Chloe.
‘If Ewan was a drink . . .’ she began, and Amira could see just how how drunk the younger woman was. ‘If Ewan was a drink . . . he’d be whisky because he seems like a good idea when you’re drunk but he makes you feel like shit in the morning. Haha!’
She spluttered with laughter, as if this had been a spur-of-the-moment witticism, but Amira knew Chloe’s mind wasn’t quick enough to come up with something like that unless she’d given it a lot of thought. Well, if she’d been aiming to humiliate Ewan in front of Rachel she’d probably succeeded, judging by the latter’s set expression and Ewan’s undisguised fury.
‘Cool. Remember, guys, let’s keep it light and fun,’ said Will evenly.
Amira stared at Chloe, still finding it hard to believe she’d said what she’d said. It was so unlike her. Not just because it was clever, but also mean. Chloe could be sulky and stroppy, but this was the first time Amira had heard her say something so out and out bitchy. This thing with Ewan, whatever it was, must have hit her really hard. Amira felt a stab of anger towards him. Normally she liked Ewan. He fancied himself a bit of a jack-the-lad, and he’d never made a secret of his ambition. She was surprised he’d hung around as long as he had – she’d have expected him to be off climbing through the ranks by now.
Though they’d worked together for two years, Amira knew very little about him, except on a superficial level. But lots of people were like that. Private. As if giving things away about themselves might lend you some sort of power over them. She didn’t mind that, but she did mind him being cavalier with Chloe’s heart. Hearts were delicate. You couldn’t take them out and pound them like fillet steak, then pop them back in and expect everything to be the same as it was.
After the drinks round came flowers and then pets. Everyone was trying to be funny as if their standing within the company could be gauged by levels of laughter. Amira was surprised to find her adrenaline levels building as her turn approached, frantically trying to think of witty things to say about Sarah.
‘Faster,’ Will said. ‘These should be totally off the cuff.’
As they did a round of famous books, he speeded them up, clicking his fingers at each in turn so they blurted out the first things that came into their heads. On the next round, TV shows, Will changed the rules.