At First Sight by Hannah Sunderland (latest novels to read TXT) 📕

problem. He’d prepared for the onslaught of yellow sauce that now sat on his chest, pre-empting any stains by cutting open the liner from his waste bin and laying it between the sandwich and his shirt. Needless to say, it wasn’t an elegant sight. ‘Charlie – I think he’s good for you and you’re good for him.’

‘You think?’ I asked, my mouth forming a happy grin.

‘Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile as much as the last couple of weeks. Granted, not when he was messing you around, but the rest of the time, you can’t seem to keep that grin off your face.’

I bit into my own sandwich, laying the wrapping down with as much care as I would an injured kitten. It had arrived about twenty minutes earlier in the hands of a volunteer I’d never met before, who hadn’t known who I was so had ended up just shouting my name out into the room until my head popped up, whack-a-mole style, from my cubicle. He’d handed me a hot cup of coffee, along with a paper bag containing a hummus and pepper sandwich from Cool Beans, with a note scribbled on the paper.

Try not to fling this one at any unsuspecting Irishmen.

Dinner tonight? Let me know and I’ll meet you from work if you want to.

But until then, this is to tide you over.

Charlie

My face had blushed bright red as I read the note and had turned radioactive when Ned had called from his cubicle in a high-pitched voice, ‘Ooo, Nell got a love note.’

The rest of the office had turned to look at me and I had quickly hurried back to my seat before I could spontaneously combust from embarrassment.

‘If you don’t stop smiling your face is going to split in half,’ Ned slurred around his lunch.

‘Shut up, Old Man,’ I jibed.

He sighed. ‘Oh, to be young and in love.’

‘You’re just jealous because you had to make your own sandwich,’ I replied, taking an overzealous bite and almost choking on it.

Hours passed by so unbelievably slowly that I wondered at one point if Ned had remotely reset the clock on my screen to mess with me and the longer time took to pass, the more nervous I’d got. I flicked the head of George the bobblehead zombie, the springs inside his head letting out a quiet squeak. He’d been sitting on my computer every shift since we’d won him. I’d always slip him into my bag when I was headed home though, as I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him alone overnight.

I knew I’d done things with Charlie before, but this was the first thing that felt like a date, with the romantic note and the surprise offer of dinner. I had a short but positive call from Jackson where he told me that he’d somehow managed to finish off the entirety of Game of Thrones since I’d last spoken to him and then listened to a fifteen-minute rant on how he’d have preferred it to end. It was good to hear him so enthusiastic about something again. The drugs that the doctor had put him on were working better than anything he’d tried before and he was hopeful that he’d soon be anxiety-free enough to ask out the girl at work that he’d had his eyes on. This was a huge step for him. When we first started talking, he could barely talk to the postman and now he was contemplating dating.

I’d signed off feeling like Jackson would be just fine and it gave me an extra spring in my step. People often saw anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds as giving in to weakness but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Having the guts to ask for help was a strength that all too many people didn’t possess and the social stigma around anxiety, depression or other mental health issues often deprives people of that final ounce of courage to seek the help they need.

Ned descended the stairs beside me at the end of our shift with the enthusiasm that came of knowing that a fresh pot of Ben and Jerry’s and a newly purchased box set of Cold Case Files awaited him at home. We’d been trying to get more adventurous with our ice cream flavours, graduating from Chocolate Fudge Brownie to Cherry Garcia to what awaited us now, Birthday Cake flavoured ice cream. It could go one of two ways, but no matter if he loved it or hated it, history dictated that it would be gone in less than thirty minutes and I wouldn’t even get a look-in.

My enthusiasm, as I almost skipped down the stairs beside him, was for a completely different reason. I craned my neck as we neared the last landing, scanning through the glass doors to steal a glance at him, but his brooding silhouette didn’t fall into view. I’d ducked into the bathroom before leaving just to drag a brush through my hair and apply a revitalising layer of mascara. I’d taken a long hard look at my reflection in the water-stained bathroom mirror and given myself a pep talk.

‘Now,’ I’d said to myself with seriousness, ‘there is no need to be nervous. Everything is fine. You will chew your food with care and under no circumstances will you order the salad, because everyone knows that there is no graceful way to eat a salad. You don’t need the food working against you. You will think before you speak and limit yourself to make sure that he gets a word in edgeways. Do you understand me, Nell Coleman?’

It was at this point that I’d heard the flush of a toilet and one of the cubicle doors had opened. Striding out of it had been someone wearing a lanyard from the homeless charity across the hall. I’d felt my cheeks begin to radiate heat strong enough to give someone sunburn as I’d tried to quickly gather up my make-up and hairbrush, somehow managing to