and being nervous made it even harder for me to think about food.
Before I knew it, a glass of champagne had appeared by my side, even though I hadn't ordered it. No doubt another part of the whole Valentine dinner thing. Rather than churlishly refusing it, I decided I’d just sip it slowly and make it last. I’d still be okay to drive if I needed to, as long as I stuck with just the one glass of champagne.
“So, how long have you worked for the bank?” Caleb asked, once our food arrived. Being a typical guy, he’d picked the steak, while I’d chosen the much lighter poached salmon option, although I noticed he also ordered a green salad to go with his steak instead of chips. I watched fascinated as he did the weird American thing of cutting up his food and then putting his knife down and using just his fork to eat. It seemed such a cack-handed way of doing things, when these Yanks were supposed to be all about efficiency.
“Since I left uni - about six years,” I replied. “I’ve worked in various areas, and it’s probably about time for me to move on again, once this latest project I’ve been working on is up and running. I just haven’t got around to doing anything about it yet.”
“No, I guess that’s understandable, all things considered. But if you wanted, I have connections. I could put out some feelers, point you in the right direction, check your résumé over, that kind of thing. I think you have the potential to do really well, Faith, so I think you should give your career progression some serious consideration,” Caleb offered.
“That’s very kind of you, and I’ll certainly think about it.” Yeah, right. Polite chit chat. Caleb helping me was not going to happen once he went back to the States, was it?
“But we shouldn't spend our evening talking about work. What are your hobbies? Do you play any sport at all?” Caleb swiftly moved the conversation on.
“I’m not really sporty. Team games and I don’t do well together. I’m more of a solitary, long walk kind of person. How about you?”
Anyone like me, who’d always been the last one picked out to join a team, would have an understandable lifelong loathing of team games.
“My work schedule doesn’t really allow for me to play team games these days, but I like to run and I also like weight training,” Caleb told me.
“It shows,” I commented, glancing at his honed and toned body.
“Well, you have to make the effort and find time to exercise when you sit at a desk for a large part of the day. Trust me, I know only too well how easy it is to end up out of shape,” he elaborated. “So, I gather you don't live far from here, from what you said the other day when you gave me a ride?”
“Yes, that’s right. I live in East Sheen, not far from Richmond. Nothing grand, just a one bedroom flat, part of an old house conversion.”
“Do you rent it?”
“No, I own it, actually.”
Caleb looked impressed.
“You’re doing pretty well then, seeing as property in London is some of the most expensive in the world. But I guess that means your mortgage repayments must be pretty high,” Caleb probed. I wasn’t sure why he seemed so interested in my finances, but I supposed it was his way of making conversation - he was a banker after all.
“When Drew and I bought the flat a few years back, we got it for a good price because it needed a lot doing to it, which we did ourselves to save money. And when he set up his own business, we were given what turned out to be good advice about making sure we had sufficient insurance cover. So when Drew died, all the loans and mortgages were paid off, which means I now own the flat outright. I also got a lump sum, which I’ve invested, along with the proceeds from selling his business. On top of that, thanks to the type of insurance we had, I also get a guaranteed index-linked income for life. So, not that I ever wanted things to be this way, but I’ve actually ended up
Before I knew it, a glass of champagne had appeared by my side, even though I hadn't ordered it. No doubt another part of the whole Valentine dinner thing. Rather than churlishly refusing it, I decided I’d just sip it slowly and make it last. I’d still be okay to drive if I needed to, as long as I stuck with just the one glass of champagne.
“So, how long have you worked for the bank?” Caleb asked, once our food arrived. Being a typical guy, he’d picked the steak, while I’d chosen the much lighter poached salmon option, although I noticed he also ordered a green salad to go with his steak instead of chips. I watched fascinated as he did the weird American thing of cutting up his food and then putting his knife down and using just his fork to eat. It seemed such a cack-handed way of doing things, when these Yanks were supposed to be all about efficiency.
“Since I left uni - about six years,” I replied. “I’ve worked in various areas, and it’s probably about time for me to move on again, once this latest project I’ve been working on is up and running. I just haven’t got around to doing anything about it yet.”
“No, I guess that’s understandable, all things considered. But if you wanted, I have connections. I could put out some feelers, point you in the right direction, check your résumé over, that kind of thing. I think you have the potential to do really well, Faith, so I think you should give your career progression some serious consideration,” Caleb offered.
“That’s very kind of you, and I’ll certainly think about it.” Yeah, right. Polite chit chat. Caleb helping me was not going to happen once he went back to the States, was it?
“But we shouldn't spend our evening talking about work. What are your hobbies? Do you play any sport at all?” Caleb swiftly moved the conversation on.
“I’m not really sporty. Team games and I don’t do well together. I’m more of a solitary, long walk kind of person. How about you?”
Anyone like me, who’d always been the last one picked out to join a team, would have an understandable lifelong loathing of team games.
“My work schedule doesn’t really allow for me to play team games these days, but I like to run and I also like weight training,” Caleb told me.
“It shows,” I commented, glancing at his honed and toned body.
“Well, you have to make the effort and find time to exercise when you sit at a desk for a large part of the day. Trust me, I know only too well how easy it is to end up out of shape,” he elaborated. “So, I gather you don't live far from here, from what you said the other day when you gave me a ride?”
“Yes, that’s right. I live in East Sheen, not far from Richmond. Nothing grand, just a one bedroom flat, part of an old house conversion.”
“Do you rent it?”
“No, I own it, actually.”
Caleb looked impressed.
“You’re doing pretty well then, seeing as property in London is some of the most expensive in the world. But I guess that means your mortgage repayments must be pretty high,” Caleb probed. I wasn’t sure why he seemed so interested in my finances, but I supposed it was his way of making conversation - he was a banker after all.
“When Drew and I bought the flat a few years back, we got it for a good price because it needed a lot doing to it, which we did ourselves to save money. And when he set up his own business, we were given what turned out to be good advice about making sure we had sufficient insurance cover. So when Drew died, all the loans and mortgages were paid off, which means I now own the flat outright. I also got a lump sum, which I’ve invested, along with the proceeds from selling his business. On top of that, thanks to the type of insurance we had, I also get a guaranteed index-linked income for life. So, not that I ever wanted things to be this way, but I’ve actually ended up
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