‘So, Candy – ’ new guy starts, but I cut him off.
‘Candice,’ I correct him. ‘I hate being called Candy.’
I instantly feel bad for correcting him. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve been very nice to him since the day he started. On his very first day he just breezed in here, all fun and freelance and I couldn’t believe it when he asked me out, in front of Will, before we’d even exchanged pleasantries, before Will had even shown him to his office. His confidence left me dumbstruck, but before I had a chance to say anything I clocked the unimpressed look on Will’s face. He couldn’t hide his jealousy, and gave Geordie Shore a telling-off for flirting with me.
I would have been mortified but the new guy just laughed it off, like it was no big deal. I’d have been in tears in the toilets, just like I am every time Sweet Caroline gives me a dressing-down, but not new guy; he still comes and sits on my desk, chatting to me like we’re old friends, even though I give nothing back. Well, I don’t want to upset Will, do I? So I figure if I’m not too pally with the new guy then maybe he’ll stop trying to be my friend. The thing is, it’s like the more I try to ignore him, the harder he tries with me. This really winds me up.
‘You need to lighten up,’ he tells me. ‘All the cool kids shorten their names.’
I shrug my shoulders.
‘Candice just takes so much longer to say,’ he persists, and I’m not sure if he’s kidding or not.
‘Well you could take it up with my parents, but they’re dead,’ I tell him harshly, in an attempt to shut the conversation down.
‘Rough,’ he replies, and I don’t know if he’s referring to my orphan status or my manner.
Before I got involved with Will – when I was young, sweet and approachable – I didn’t attract much attention from guys. As a shy and unremarkable teen with only female friends, I had no confidence to talk to boys and in turn they had no desire to talk to me. Back then I would have given anything to be catcalled, even if it was just a tramp drunkenly yelling at me to show him my tits, that would’ve been enough. I mean, I wouldn’t have shown him, but it would’ve been nice to be asked. I think that’s why I was so blown away when a handsome, grown man like Will wanted anything to do with me. Now that I’m happy (ish) with Will, the last thing I want is men coming on to me, but now that I’m not interested in anyone else, I seem to have my pick of the fine, eligible bachelors of Manchester. Why yes, I am being sarcastic. Catcallers in the street, drunks in bars, well-travelled IT freelancers – the harder I try to seem uninterested, the more people seem to try. It’s weird.
When Geordie Shore first asked me out, I didn’t get a chance to reject him before Will intervened, but after that I made sure he knew I wasn’t interested. Could I have been interested were it not for my relationship with Will? I’m not certain, but what I am certain of now is that he has become this huge pain in my arse. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered when he showed interest in me, because he’s undeniably gorgeous, but he upsets Will when he hits on me, he stops me getting my (admittedly near non-existent) work done, but worst of all he just irks me in a way that I can’t even explain.
There’s something about the way he looks at me that I just don’t like. I’m a very closed book; I keep myself to myself, but with the new guy it’s like that doesn’t matter. I feel like he looks through me, like he can see all my secrets and there’s nothing I can do about it.
‘I might go grab a doughnut,’ the new guys announces to fill the silence. ‘Can I get you one?’
‘No, thank you,’ I reply, my eyes fixed firmly on my screen.
‘Don’t tell me you don’t like doughnuts?’ he gasps, faux dramatically for effect.
‘I don’t really eat junk,’ I tell him. It is technically true that I am trying not to eat junk. It’s not fun at all and sometimes, when I’m having a rough day, I’d love nothing more than to work my way through a baker’s dozen, but I don’t. OK, I maybe sneak one now and then, but after last night, I need to behave today.
‘Healthy eater?’ he asks, nodding towards my body. ‘Well, you look good for it.’
‘Thank you.’ I look up at him, and smile briefly.
He smiles back before dashing out of the room. The staff room isn’t far and soon enough he’s back with four doughnuts on a plate, each a different flavour, but all absolutely delicious-looking. At least two of them clearly involve chocolate and I feel my breathing quicken as I eyeball them longingly. I try not to make eye contact with delicious food, lest I fall off the wagon and eat everything that crosses my path on my way to the ground. I know that as soon as I hit the floor – like when Will makes any kind of remark about my weight – it will hurt so much, and no food is worth that, right? What is it they say? Nothing tastes as good as thin feels. Whoever came up with that phrase has obviously never tasted a chocolate and peanut butter doughnut.
‘Right, two each and you can have first pick,’ new guy says as he pulls up Caroline’s chair, placing the plate on my desk and pushing it towards me. Oh God, what the hell is wrong with me? Why am I so weak for food? My mind is telling me no, but my stomach is telling me hell yes.
‘Just one,’ I say, convincing neither myself nor the new guy that I’ll stop after just one. I mean, look at them! I grab the chocolate and peanut butter one and start delicately nibbling away at it, instead of trying to stuff it in my mouth whole like my instincts are telling me to.
‘I’ll take the raspberry ripple one,’ he says, stabbing it with his finger before eating it off like a lollipop. ‘Your move,’ he says, his mouth full of food.
I make sure to empty my mouth before I speak.
‘It’s going to have to be the pink, glittery glazed one,’ I sigh.
‘I knew it,’ he says, clapping victoriously, absentmindedly forgetting the doughnut in this hand. He laughs and licks jam from his hands like a messy little boy. ‘I knew you’d go chocolate and then sparkly – proper girly girl, aren’t you?’
I shrug my shoulders.
‘Have you ever been to Thailand?’ he asks.
‘No,’ I reply, my instincts telling me not to get into conversation with him, to just eat my doughnut, feel ashamed of my lack of willpower and get on with pretending to work.
‘I went last year, amazing place,’ he tells me. ‘There’s this thing they eat, it’s high-protein and low-fat – you might like it. They’re pregnant crickets.’
I snap my head upright, taking my eyes off my blank screen to look at him in disbelief. I swallow hard to empty my mouth.
‘Excuse me, they’re what?’
‘Yeah, they’re crickets that are full of eggs. Apparently they raise them on a farm, feed them well so it makes for a yummier cricket.’
‘That’s disgusting,’ I squeak. It annoys me that I find him so interesting when I try so hard to ignore him. ‘Did you eat one?’
‘Of course,’ he tells me as he spins around in Sweet Caroline’s desk chair. ‘YOLO – that’s what the kids say, right? Also, when in Thailand… It was just one of many culinary delights they have over there.’
Unfazed by his disgusting story, I grab my second doughnut and start munching away.
‘Do I want to know?’ I ask,