Almost Official

by Ruby Reade

  'Yes, you have to fire me, and I lose my job because you're a cheating prick. I didn't know you were getting married. This is your fault and now this.'

  'If things could be different then I would love to keep you here.'

  'Oh get over yourself and stuff your stupid job up your arse, if you're lucky you might find your head up there you arrogant prick.' I tell him and stomp out of the back room.

  'Lucy. Lucy?' He shouts after me, but I refuse to stop. That's one way to get another bad reference to add to my growing list.

  If I had to write a realistic CV, then I would be in shit street.

  Dear Sir/Madam,

  I am unobservant, unorganised and don't deal with stress or working too deadlines very well. Scratch that, I hate working in teams, I can't meet deadlines and I hate all people. I can't stand being told what to do and can't be bothered to have responsibility or give orders. I have no understanding of tact or confidentiality. I have developed laziness into an art form. I have no financial, business or common sense. Oh, and I like to sleep with all my bosses, which is why I keep losing my jobs.

  Maybe I should start preparing a cardboard box now as that is all I will ever be able to afford to buy.

  My enraged march starts to slow as the anger fades and a creeping depression sets in. I feel my shoulders slumping down. I stop completely, not sure where to go.

  At least last time I walked out on my terms and felt empowered. Although the situation is virtually the same, I feel far from empowered this time. What the bloody hell do I do now?

  My mum is going to kill me.

  Kev will give me that look that tells me he knew it would happen and it is all my fault. Not that I care what he thinks anyway.

  Fucking Nigel. Fucking bloody Nigel.

  I am such an idiot. Why does this keep happening to me?

  I make a quick decision to go home and wallow in misery. I am definitely getting bored of this losing jobs malarkey.

  I finally get home after a walk that lasts forever and lean against the front door. I slide down it and sit on the floor happy to be in my safe haven.

  'Lucy?' My mum calls out. Shit. 'Are you okay? Are you sick?' She asks leaning over the bannister's to look at me.

  'No I'm not sick. I'm and idiot and don't want to talk about it.' I tell her before she asks too many questions. I walk upstairs, and she holds her arms out for a hug. I squeeze into her. This is what I needed. 'Are you sure you're okay?' She asks again. I know I'll have to tell her at some point, but not right now. I nod and smile.

  'Just going to chill out for a bit. I'll tell you about it later.' I promise and escape to my room.

  I flop face down onto my bed.

  This is my life now.

  Back where I started. No job, no boyfriend, no money, just more embarrassing stories and too much drama.

  When people say that your life can change in a day, it is supposed to be comforting and imply that things will change for the better. Like winning the lottery and becoming rich overnight. It isn't supposed to mean you lose everything and feel worse than you did before. My future is like a big gapping black hole where all my dreams and hopes have been sucked away into it, never to be seen again.

  I start hunting around my room for a pen and paper. Piles of clothes are thrown into new piles of clothes. I open my draws rummaging through each one with no success.

  I remember I had one in a bag when I went to my one and only French evening class, I think I chucked it under my bed. I drop to the floor and have a look, but it is going to be too much effort pulling it all out. Instead I jump back up and pull my bed away from the wall.

  There it is, and inside the carrier bag is a notepad and pen. I leave the bed a foot away from the wall and get comfy. I turn to a blank page and stare at it.

  I want to write out a new life plan, but suddenly, I don't know where to start or what to write.

  I read somewhere about cosmic ordering and how if you write down everything you want to happen in your life, then it will happen. A bit like catalogue shopping. The way things are going for me right now I am willing to give anything a go, even if it sounds a bit farfetched.

  I break the page into sections. Men. Money. Work. Body.

  Fag break. At least I can stand at the window now I have moved my bed away from the wall.

  'I hope you're not smoking in there.' Mum shouts at me.

  'No I'm not.' I call back and then lean out further.

  It's surprising what quick break does for my creative juices. I grab the pen and start writing the way I talk. Without thinking.

  Right, Body. I write down no sex. Must find a new exercise plan. Try kick boxing, then I will be able to beat up the next boss who fires me, or just men in general.

  Work. Something that will give me lots of money. Maybe I could start my own business and be a Boss Babe? I circle Boss Babe, and write down, need ideas.

  Money. See above, need to be a successful entrepreneur. Just need a good idea. I could be a millionaire.

  Men. No men whatsoever, unless they are only interested in other men. Also see above, when rich I will find an equally successful rich man.

  I close the notepad and pop it onto the nearest pile of washing. I don't care if it's the middle of the day, I am going to bed.

  At least I can't get myself into any more trouble while I'm asleep.

  Chapter 32

  Kevin

  When my prayer for company is answered, I immediately remember my mum always saying, 'be careful what you wish for.'

  Amy's Dad walks in.

  I lean back my chair onto two legs and put my feet on my desk. He turns his mouth down, looking down his nose at me. I wink and smile at him. Maybe this might be more fun than I thought.

  Andy Worthington-Miles is not impressed.

  'How's it hanging.' I ask picking up my stress ball, throwing it from one hand to the other. I watch his eyes following the ball. Perhaps I can hypnotise him and make him give me all his money.

  He pouts and I can see the resemblance to Amy for the first time.

  'Do you think you could put that thing down?' He asks, over pronouncing each word. I nod and chuck it in my draw. I still need to be paid after all.

  'Thank you.' He takes a deep breath. 'Look, let's cut to the chase.' I'm about to be paid. I am mentally tallying up all the bills I can I pay off. The icing on the cake is I won't have to put up with him or Amy anymore.

  'Of course. I have a lot on today anyway.'

  'It looks like it.' He raises his eyebrows. 'What we need to discuss, is what needs to happen.' I don't follow him, everything to do with the Casino refurbishment and relaunch is all on target.

  'How do you mean?' I ask leaning forward in my chair. I don't like the fact he is still standing, forcing me to look up at him.

  'You know how women can be, and this Casino is Amy's thing. She wants everything to be perfect, there will be a lot of press and social media attention on it, so she is very specific about what she wants.' Specific? That's one way to put it. Spoilt, uptight, princess is closer to the mark. 'She is adamant that she needs the right man on her arm for the night. Make it a real story rather than just business.'

  'Okay, I don't see what that has to do with me though?'

  'This is a delicate matter.' He lets out a deep sigh. Maybe it's an upper-class thing not liking to pay people who do a job for you? 'I will pay you.'

  'To be honest, I would rather you just pay me for the work we have done, if you’re trying to suggest I am an escort for the night?' I move around the desk to stand in front of him and gain a level footing.

  'How much?' He asks pulling out an envelope that looks like a brick.

  'Hang on a minute.' I pull out my business card. 'Hmmm?' I spend time looking at it.

  'What is it now.' He asks chucking the envelope onto my desk.

  'Well, it doesn't mention anywhere on my business card about being an escort to desperate women. Nope, sorry. It's not part of the service here.' I tell him
and hand the envelope back.

  'Come on Kevin, we all know how low your moral code sits, so drop the big boy pretence.'

  I don't like how the tables are turning now. This was supposed to be me getting paid and getting them to fuck off so I can move on, not getting stuck in one of their family dramas.

  'Now, now, I'm not saying it's a bad thing son.' He tells me holding his hands up. 'I want you to take her out, be the perfect gentleman if you can manage that, and when the cameras are rolling, then you are going to propose to her with this ring.' He hands me a box from out of nowhere. What the fuck? 'Once you do this, then I will pay you for the refurb, and we can all get on with our lives.' In his head it is that simple. He is used to telling people what to do and doesn't expect anything less of me. He thinks I am angling for more money and can't compute the fact I don't want to do it. 'Obviously this is a business deal, but if you decide not to take me up on the offer then I will get my lawyers to drag out our payment to your company for the next ten years and launch a smear campaign so that your little business goes bust. I think it's an easy decision.' He smiles at me.

  'Five. I want five thousand.' I tell him clenching my jaw.

  'See, not so hard.' He chucks the envelope at me. 'There is eight thousand in there. Take the rest as a bonus. You underestimated your worth young man.' I will have this bloke when all of this is done.

  He walks to the door, 'I knew you would be like your Dad. Do anything for a bit of money. I hear his new bit on the side is loaded.'

  'Get out now.' I growl at him.

  'You know your mum and Lucy are better off without you two around. Enjoy the launch.' He punches me emotionally before walking out, closing the door quietly behind him.

  'Leave my mum alone.' I shout at the door.

  I hit my desk with both palms. 'Arghhh.' I shout.

  I hear his car pull away, and I am left alone again.

  I can feel tears in my eyes. I hold my hands over them, stopping the tears from falling. My dad somehow manages to humiliate me every time I start getting a foot forward, his behaviour somehow manages to knock me back. At school it was fights because he was sleeping with other kid's mums. Then as I got older, he started on my girlfriends. My poor mum doesn't have a clue.

  'I'm not fucking five anymore.' I shout at myself.

  'I hope not sweetness. You would be a pretty big fucker for five.' Pete says popping his head around the door.

  'Do I look like a whore to you?' I ask.

  'Depends, do you mean a cheap, old worn out one, or one of those expensive, rich bitch ones?' He laughs and chucks himself onto the sofa in my office.

  The transformation is ridiculous. He doesn't look like Pete anymore, sounds like him though. I take a closer look and notice the tan is fading and he has black circles around his eyes.

  'Shit. You look about as good as I feel.' I say sitting on my desk.

  'Jenny is pregnant.' He tells me and I don't move or say anything.

  'No witty comeback?' He asks.

  'I am doing my best impression of a psychiatrist.' I say. 'They never give you any answers or join in on the conversation. It's pretty useless if you ask me, but apparently, they take years to learn how to hmmm, in the right places.

  'But you haven't hmmmed yet?'

  'I'm still waiting for the right moment.' I say resuming my concerned frown that they all have. 'Right, session over. Pub time for a proper chat, and if that doesn't work then we can get bladdered.' I clap my hands at him.

  'Hmmm.' Is all I get back.

  'Hey, that's my job and not the right answer.' I grab his collar and yank him up.

  'Come on then sugar, but no trying your luck with me later I'm not that kind of boy.' He says strutting past me.

  Maybe things aren't that bad.

  ***

  Okay, so maybe things are that bad.

  Turns out Jenny is pregnant and split up with him because, this really cracks me up, he didn't answer quick enough about keeping it.

  Now maybe I'm being a bit of a cock here, but he has known her for all of five minutes and suddenly she is pregnant. To top it off she expects him to be all ecstatic about it and jumping for joy. If it was me, I would have run out of there and then cut all contact. She is obviously using him, hoping he will buy them a house and all the extras while she sits on her ever-expanding arse.

  What is really pissing me off, is I am stuck here listening to it all, watching Pete slide further and further down the emotional scale and his chair with each pint he consumes. He has come over all feminine and is repeating himself and talking about his feelings. When he asks me what I am thinking I know it has gone too far.

  I have spent all day wishing for company, getting it and then wishing for different company. As if the bad luck fairy is on my shoulder, in walks the Barbie doll, I mean Amy.

  Crash. Thump. Drip, drip. Smash.

  Pete causes devastation when he dives under the table, knocking over his chair and smashing his pint glass.

  'If I close my eyes maybe the witch won't see me.' He shouts loudly enough to draw the attention of the entire pub. He holds their attention because he is sat dripping wet, cross legged with his eyes shut.

  Oh why do I even bother today? I should have just gone back to bed.

  'Hash she gone yhet?' He stage whispers, gaining a few laughs. I am not laughing though. I am looking at my phone trying to work out how to vanish.

  'Get up.' I whisper at him and grab his collar. He has turned into liquid jelly and is impossible to move.

  'Sorry.' I apologise to the couple next to us who are loudly complaining about the oaf on the floor.

  'If he can't handle his drink, then maybe he shouldn't have so much.' The woman sniffs and flicks her hair.

  'Well, if we all had poles up our backsides, and drink orange juice like you two, then maybe we would all be as miserable as you are.' I grin at her face. I turn around and come face to face with the blow up doll, I mean Amy.

  'Yes?' I ask.

  'I haven't asked you anything yet.' She raises her eyebrows.

  'Oh no, shesh coming closher.' I see Pete rocking under the table.

  'To answer all of your unsaid questions, no I don't want a drink. Yes, my friend is very drunk. No, you can't join us. Yes, my friend hates you and no, no, no, you can't ask me anything else.'

  'That about clears it all up then. So, you're still an arrogant prick who fancies himself. Yes, all your friends are dicks. Yes, you still act like a sulky kid, and yes, yes, yes, Lucy is so much better off with Drew. Guess I chose the wrong bloke.' She twists around and I get a face full of hair.

  That bitch has got it coming to her.

  'Ish she shtill here?' Pete asks, popping out from under the table.'

  'For fuck sake. Get out of there.'

  'Shir yesh shir,' He salutes me and climbs out.

  'Right I have had enough. Home time.'

  'Spoilt shport.' He makes a meal out of folding his arms.

  I half drag, half walk him to the door.

  As we get to the doors, in walks Drew. This day just gets better and better.

  'Drew.' Pete shouts and throws himself at Drew. He manages to catch him but struggles to keep him upright. I finally give a genuine smile.

  'Kevin.' He nods at me.

  'Drew.' I nod back.

  'I'm glad I bumped into you. This has gone on far too long. We really need to...'

  'Let me stop you there. You trying to make things go back to normal has gone on long enough. It's never going to happen so get over it.' I tell him. 'Seeing as you're here you can take him. You seem to like my leftovers.' I say starting to walk away.

  'Come on mate, I said I was sorry.'

  'I am not, I repeat, not your mate.' I point my finger in his face and leave.

  I walk straight to the car. As I pull my keys out of my jacket pocket, I find the envelope from Andy.

  I press my lips together and take a deep breath.

  I take out the envelope and look at it
.

  Maybe Lucy is better off without me. It doesn't feel right though. I open the envelope and flick through the notes. We could do with the money. It will mean I can pay some of the contractors until I get paid for the casino job.

  It's only one night.

  Lucy doesn't even have to know.

  I shove the money back into my pocket and head back into the pub to stamp my self-esteem a bit further into the ground.

  Chapter 33

  Kevin

  Walking into the casino, I check out the rich gold and purple interior with my guest eyes on. Low lighting is throwing a soft hue, with hints of pink across the room.

  I have to say it's a proud moment. I can feel a strut coming on.

  I run my hand over the smooth marble bar and look back over to the entrance.

  I still think the two large, gleaming, jewelled elephants don't match the feel of the casino. What do I know though? According to the Queen of Strops, they are perfect, so Daddy dearest let them stay. Now they are proudly greeting the first guests.

  The mannequin, sorry, Amy walks over to my side. I feel her cold hand through my shirt pushing me towards the guests.

  Let the show begin.

  I can only see one positive about tonight, apart from getting paid of course. I will be meeting some very influential people, and when I say influential, I mean stinking rich contacts.

  Hopefully once we have done the rounds, I will be able to ditch her for better company. I scan the room and catch Andy's eyes. I keep my eyes moving, but I can still feel him watching me. My movements become stiff, and I can feel my facial muscles tighten. I hate being watched. I look at Amy and she raises one eyebrow at me. I stretch my smile a bit further and try to relax.

  Only a few hours and this ordeal will be over. I will be in bed with a greasy burger and Match of the Day recorded. I relax a bit more.

  Guests are arriving in groups, and I am saying the same sentences on repeat. It's not as bad as I thought, and time is counting down.

  I see Luke and Pete arrive, and I feel myself relax a bit more.

  I am talking to Mr Dull and Mrs Duller about a chain of restaurants they own in London. I mean they are a great contact but chatting to them is horrific. Amy has noticed my change in mood and visibly relaxes next to me. She doesn’t let her hand leave me at any point, trying to make sure I don't wander off anywhere no doubt.