Page 40 of Leaning In

“Sorry,” the woman beside me says, glancing between us. “Did we interrupt something?”

“No,” James says immediately. “You actually saved me.”

Her eyebrows lift, and she carefully puts down her iced coffee, settling into the seat.

“Tom was about to explain his latest school outreach proposal,” James continues solemnly. “Another ten seconds and I’d have had to sit through him proving he’s morally superior to the rest of us yet again.”

I frown at him. “I’m not morally superior.”

“Tom,” James says patiently. “You carry wooden cutlery so that you don’t have to use the disposable plastic stuff, and you know how to recycle properly.”

“The reusable travel cutlery was a present from my sister.”

The woman laughs and I suddenly remember we have an audience.

“I’m Amber,” she says, still smiling as she pulls off her sunglasses. “And this is Liv.”

“James,” James says, pointing to himself before gesturing at me. “And this is Tom. Resident football coach and part-time martyr.”

“I’m not a martyr.”

“You absolutely are,” James replies. “Last week you stayed two hours late because a Year 8 cried over his geography results… and you’re not even a geography teacher.”

“He was having a hard time.”

Amber’s expression softens. “That’s actually really nice.”

James points at me triumphantly. “See? This is exactly the problem. Women always think he sounds lovely for the first thirty minutes.”

“James,” I warn.

“What?” He grins into his pint.

“So do you actually enjoy teaching teenagers?” Liv asks, sounding horrified. “I feel like being surrounded by fifteen-year-olds all day would be hell. But I didn’t enjoy school that much.”

“Most days it’s great,” I admit. “They’re really good kids.”

“You hear that?” James says to Amber. “That’s exactly how he gets people.”

Amber laughs. “No, I get it. My sister’s a paediatric nurse. Some people are just built to be aggressively dependable.”

“Aggressively dependable,” James repeats thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him.”

“I’m still here,” I point out.

A cool breeze winds around the table, rustling the leaves on the trees by the path and causing Liv to shiver.

“Shoot.” Liv looks around. “I left my cardigan at the bar. Sorry, I’ll only be a moment.”

She starts climbing back out from the bench and James immediately stands too. “Perfect,” he says. “I need another drink.”

“You absolutely do not,” I tell him, pointing at his still partially full glass.

“Counterpoint,” James replies, downing the rest of the drink.

As he stands and passes behind me he gives my shoulder a quick shove that is subtle in the same way a fire alarm is subtle.

Then he disappears toward the pub with Liv, leaving me alone with Amber beneath the striped umbrella and the noise of the Thames drifting around us.