Stay Mad, Sweetheart

by Heleen Kist

  They sounded like Justin; an angry Justin I wasn’t used to. An angry Justin I didn’t know was justified or not, who would put all the blame on me if the deal went south. Rightly. An angry Justin who swore he’d had my best interest at heart when keeping me in the shadows, uninformed, under rewarded. I wanted to believe him, yet my gut told me something was off.

  Who was I kidding?

  Why would I have an instinct for people? One thing I’d learnt of late is that they weren’t the predictable flawed-but-ultimately-good or one-dimensionally evil imaginary beings I was used to. Those I’d chosen to spend my time with since I was little because there was beauty, heroism, courage, friendship, love in their stories. And comfort. Shy, sheltered and self-conscious as I’d been, it was a joy to be anyone I wanted to be inside a book.

  But not one of the people that had recently unsettled my world — Suki, Claire, Craig even — were predictable in any way. The spontaneous closeness, the mixed messages, unreasonable opinions, hidden motives. The sudden and unearned loyalty. Suki defending me in front of Claire.

  I dropped my head in my hands. Claire’s rage and Justin’s fury reverberated, dark swirls of resentment accusing me of making a mess of things, of being a bad friend. To them. To Emily.

  A WhatsApp notification buzzed in my pocket. A message from Suki:

  We shouldn’t speak for a while. Sorry. Shit hit the fan with PeopleForce because of the last-minute change. Justin has convinced Angus I’m to blame.

  Conscience-infected tears stung in my eyes. Everything was my fault. Poor Suki.

  I scrolled back through our messages, an animation-laden rally of plans, complaints and exaggerations that had made me snort on more than one occasion. Would I lose this, too?

  A shiny, red motorcycle standing against a desert sunset drew my attention. It was the one Suki said Justin would buy when the deal went through. Suki had sent a joke along with it.

  What’s the most dangerous part of a motorcycle? The nut that connects the seat to the handlebar!

  From where I was sitting, Justin was no nut. He’d done his research, been in control, had a singular vision all this time of where the company could end up, and done everything to come out a winner. His growth options would pay out as soon as the deal was signed, a cash windfall to keep him in toys while being tied-in to PeopleForce for another two years and had to wait for the big bucks. The real fruit of his labour.

  Of our labour.

  And here I was. Sulking in a closet, facing the same two-year wait, with no upfront reward. Whether I’d been thoroughly duped by a man I’d trusted for years or had royally messed up Justin’s well-intentioned plan, I wasn’t sure. One thing was clear: there was no way I could engineer growth options for myself anymore, with the acquisition hanging on a thin thread.

  What a loser. I seemed to have a knack for steering straight into dead ends, with pig-headed conviction. All that effort for nothing.

  I gasped. It was worse than nothing... Mum.

  How would she take it? Biting my lip, I cast my eyes to the heavens and speed-dialled Mum’s number. It was four o’clock. She wouldn’t be at the restaurant yet.

  ‘Hi, darling,’ she said as soon as she picked up. ‘I’m getting changed for work. Oliver and I have come from the florist. There was too much choice! I’m running a little late now. More importantly, how are you?’

  How was I? Even with my mastery of words, I couldn’t even begin to assemble letters resembling the state I was in. Despondent? Bereft? Guilty? Definitely guilty.

  ‘Mum, I’ve got something to tell you. I’ve made a mistake.’ A small sob escaped from my lips. ‘I’ll fix it. I promise.’

  ‘What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s about your wedding. The money I thought I’d have will take longer to come. I won’t get my hands on it for another year or longer. I’ll figure something out. I’ll get you the deposit for the hotel. Don’t worry.’

  I winced while only a small crackle darted between us on the line. When I could no longer stand the silence and opened my mouth wanting the shame and disapproval over with, Mum said, ‘Well, I guess we’ll have to change our plans a little. Get the community hall after all. I’m glad you’ve told me now.’

  ‘No, Mum. I’ve got some savings. I’ll dip into them.’ I had no idea what weddings costs, but worst care, Justin could give me a loan. It was the least he could do. Although with our relationship strained, even that might be hard to pull off. ‘It may not be enough so I may need a bit of time. But I said I was going get you a dream wedding and that’s what I’m going to do. I want it to be perfect for you.’

  Mum signed. ‘It will be perfect, darling, because you will be here. Our friends. Because Oliver and I love each other. Don’t you see? Nothing else matters. I don’t want your money. Happiness doesn’t come from expensive flowers. Happiness is the people you surround yourself with. It will be fine... Are you crying?’

  I sniffed and wiped my nose with my sleeve. ‘I’m okay.’

  ‘Don’t feel bad, Laura, sweetheart. I’m proud of you. I love you. You’re a good daughter.’

  But at this point, I didn’t think I was a good anything.

  42

  CLAIRE

  Claire took a second chocolate biscuit from the plate in front of her. They were the cheap kind, which was fair enough as her client was only small and not yet turning a profit with their new digital advertising platform.

  A loud bang against the window startled her. It was a polystyrene chips box, thrown against the building by a gust of wind.

  God, she hated coming to Leith. It was only two miles from Edinburgh’s city centre but took an age to get to by car or bus. Incessant roadworks in preparation for the new tram had obstructed the main road for years, and somehow morphed into a new set of perpetual detours long after the city’s mismanagement of the project meant the trams would never actually reach Leith.

  If it wasn’t for her clients and some of the nicer, hipper restaurants increasingly clustered there, she’d happily avoid the former crime and prostitute-riddled waterfront area altogether.

  It was her third visit this week to the converted old sugar refinery, which offered small companies a modern, affordable alternative to the cramped and pricey commercial accommodation in town.

  She’d been twice to her other client, one floor down, a medical imaging company that had been a shining light of innovation before it was acquired by a large Japanese firm. The R&D still happened in Edinburgh, but with all other functions performed elsewhere, it would never grow to provide the jobs the country sorely needed. She figured the same was likely to happen to Empisoft after they were sold next week.

  Emily had gushed about the medical software’s latest features, when she was still taking care of them. How you could see deep inside a patient’s lung and navigate through each blood vessel as if in a little capsule riding through the body.

  Hadn’t there been a film about people lost inside a body? Claire vaguely recalled reading about a possible remake by a top director. That would be much so more fun to do the PR for. But here she was, stuck in techno-land.

  ‘Claire, did you get that?’ a male voice asked.

  She looked up from the paper clip she’d been twisting in her hands to find the whole room looking at her. ‘Of course. Though I’d like to get a copy of the presentation if I could please?’

  There was no way she could admit her mind had wandered off when the team had specifically organised this update for her, to help her prepare for a magazine article she’d secured.

  ‘No problem. Whatever you need,’ said the eternally enthusiastic founder.

  How did he do it? Entrepreneurs were often unusually chirpy and optimistic. They kinda had to be. But it was all the more remarkable in this guy’s case. She had to raise her head to return his smile, since he stood strapped to a metal frame holding him upright. Apparently, it provided relief from sitting too long in his wheelchair.

  Claire h
ad no doubt their artificial intelligence-driven product was first class. She also knew the magazine wouldn’t have given her as big a feature if it hadn’t been for the additional intriguing angle of the spinal stroke the founder suffered the year before.

  So yeah, her job might suck, but things could be a lot worse.

  On the screen was an advert they’d placed for a luxury jacket, an example of the micro-targeting they could do. It was gorgeous, a soft, blue leather trench with oval buttons made of green glass. Claire recalled seeing it on an up-and-coming actress on the red carpet at the Edinburgh Film Festival.

  Another client she would not get to serve. She mentally sneered at thieving Otto.

  Having only listened to the presentation with half an ear, she checked the words on the screen: CTR, CPM, ROI. She recognised them as measures of advertising effectiveness, but what the hell was a genetic algorithm? Or a data refinery?

  Claire’s head hurt thinking about it.

  Laura would know. She was super good at explaining complicated data science things in simple terms.

  A small knot formed in her stomach. She hadn’t spoken to Laura since their blow-up at the bistro. It had been extremely unprofessional of her to tell Laura off. Darren would tear Claire’s head off if he knew. Empisoft was their biggest and sexiest client.

  Laura had kept it between them, a kindness that gnawed at Claire’s conscience. She’d grown to realise she’d been too quick to blame Laura for last week’s public humiliation of Pure Brilliant. How was Laura supposed to know the photo of the trespasser would cause problems?

  But whenever such guilty feelings reared their ugly little head, Claire reminded herself Laura wasn’t totally blameless. She had no business going to Adam Mooney’s publicist directly. That was an introduction Claire had made, through her network — and what a thrill she’d had knowing her network extended directly to Adam Mooney. It was her connection and it was simply not done, in her world, to bypass the introducer like that.

  Then again, how could she expect Laura to know the world of PR? Besides, Claire couldn’t ignore her own role in her agency’s disaster.

  She’d only meant to dent Darren’s ego a bit, bring him back to Earth through their little photographic taunt. And sweet Laura had helped her. Even though there wasn’t anything in it for her — other than some weird thoughts about avenging Emily which made no sense to Claire at all.

  Darren might be a complete dick, but he hadn’t mistreated Emily. Not like what he did to Claire: making her juggle multiple briefs with no recognition whatsoever; unfairly denying her longed-for promotion to Culture.

  Though, admittedly, to call all that ‘mistreatment’ might be a bit of a stretch. And his punishment was maybe, just maybe, not entirely deserved.

  Claire took another sip of water. The company founder announced the last slide, a welcome diversion from the nagging thought that was running through her brain: the possibility that she’d been an unjustifiably vicious cow to Darren. And to Laura.

  43

  SUKI

  A new pack of soya milk stood on the top shelf of the fridge, towards the left, where she usually kept hers. Plenty of dairy there, too. The temp from reception walked past and smiled. Had he done this? Suki picked up her milk, feeling guilty she couldn’t remember his name. Who knew he’d stay so long? It would be too awkward to ask now.

  As she waited for the machine to squirt out her espresso, she was struck by a gust of wind from the door to the patio. August was coming to an end. The weather had turned from changeable — bouncing between mild-but-wet and sunny-but-chilly — to the more static grey misery of autumn.

  ‘Do you mind closing that door? It’s fucking freezing in here,’ she snapped at the junior associate vaping outside.

  She crossed her arms across her blouse to cover her nipples’ reaction to the cold before some eagle-eyed Neanderthal spotted it.

  At her desk, there wasn’t anywhere to put the coffee. Sheets of paper lay scattered across her work surface, in what might have looked like a total mess, but in fact benefited from subtle order; legal documents on one side, financials on the other.

  She sat down and got to work. It was crunch time. If she didn’t get the revisions to PeopleForce by tonight, they’d lose another day because of time zones, and that made the difference between signing prior to the conference or not.

  Angus had lectured her in the morning that failure to close this deal in time for the big event was not an option. She’d had to swallow her pride. Jerk.

  All she needed was a little patience. He’d get his comeuppance soon enough, when she and Diane put their plan into action. What mattered most at this moment was getting the acquisition over the line, whatever it took. And it was taking all her waking hours — many robbed from the night — and all her concentration.

  Yet that was why she’d come here. This was exactly why she’d picked this line of work: the thrill of the deal, the loud ticking of the clock, the myriad obstacles to jump over, the financial puzzle. Not to mention the size of the prize, the giant bonus that awaited her when Justin and Laura signed their baby away.

  It still grated that Justin was getting more than the woman who’d contributed as much, if not more. She shook her head thinking how Laura’s clumsy attempt at getting what she deserved had backfired.

  She’d warned Laura that straight-up asking for things almost never got you what you wanted. You had to be smart. To scheme. And Suki had asked for some time to work out a smarter plan. But Laura, sweet Laura, naively thought the world was as logical as her mind, as the software code she wrote. If there was an error, you’d naturally fix it.

  At least Laura wouldn’t need to work with the asshole who betrayed her anymore. Justin’s new job description and his cushy new remuneration package lay atop Suki’s keyboard, fully approved. Global Director of Digital Labs.

  Good riddance. Shame she couldn’t tell Laura yet.

  A wry grin lifted the corners of her mouth. It was quite a technical role and, from what she’s seen, he wasn’t up to the job. PeopleForce would see straight through him once he got Stateside.

  She put the document aside and shifted her focus to the amended Key Man provisions. They’d all been fine at first glance; but as Laura had become entangled in this, she wanted to doubly make sure.

  Such a nice girl, Suki sighed. And they’d been having good fun. There was something about Laura that made her want to protect her. Suki was surrounded by sharks all the time. Hell, she liked to believe she was one herself, so she recognised a defenceless flounder when she saw one.

  PeopleForce had been shaken by the late addition of another Key Man. Their nervousness had infected Angus and Diane, who’d hovered around Suki earlier wanting to make sure everything was on track. She scratched at the paper with a blue pen, doing her damnedest to address everyone’s concerns. There was no way she’d let PeopleForce choose to buy Empisoft’s competitor at this stage in the game. And by all accounts, this threat was real.

  Fuck. What if it all went wrong?

  Justin had pointed the finger at her as the troublemaker. Was it because she’d not responded to his charm? Angus had happily believed him, of course. Who would challenge the big client? All this meant she needed to crack on, lay low, jump when told to jump, grin and generally be a good girl. Ugh.

  There were three pages of new clauses left for her to review in the whole contract. Problem was, they featured a complicated cross-Atlantic tax-avoidance structure she wasn’t familiar with. But she knew who was. Double ugh.

  She leaned back in her chair and waved one arm in the air.

  ‘Robert? Hey. Can you give me a hand, please?’ she shouted.

  Four desks away, Robert sprang up. After an initial look of confusion, he strutted over, demonstrably adjusting his tie in front of the others.

  ‘Need my help, do you?’ he said. ‘Stanford not teach you everything you need to know after all?’

  Suki resisted the urge to roll her eyes. ‘Have a l
ook at this, please. It looks like the scheme we set up for the shipping company last year. There are a few differences, though, and I can’t work out who stands to benefit from that.’

  ‘Sure, anything to help a lovely lady.’ He pulled a seat over, placing it within an inch of hers. His breath smelled of bacon roll with a hint of residual alcohol. They partied hard, the finance boys.

  He stretched across her to take control of the mouse, his elbow unashamedly brushing against her breast. Did men really think women didn’t know about ‘elbow tit’? Did they really think we hadn’t figured out the lurid game they played in bars to see who could notch up the most supposedly accidental boobie-wobbles in a night? But we knew. Suki had also learnt from experience that calling them out on it usually ended badly, with either mock-outraged accusations of imagining things or, worse, being told you should be grateful for the attention.

  Suki thought of all the poor women who had to put up with this shit. Those who dared to complain and ended up taking payoffs rather than fight, knowing the men would always have the upper hand; those who suffered in silence because they didn’t have the luxury of a good education and a choice of jobs, like she did, or because their self-worth had been eroded through years of under-appreciation.

  The temptation to stomp on his feet was strong. Instead, she got up and stood a generous distance to his side while he read.

  Accommodating.

  Silent.

  Boiling.

  Soothed by the knowledge that soon, real soon, she and Diane would strike.

  44

  ME

  I arrived at the weekly IT Operations meeting six minutes late and apologised. It was unusual for me to attend, so it had slipped my mind. Most of my work was early stage, irrelevant for the purposes of the main systems in the company. That is, until I caused a whole sequenced reboot because my Network Impact code had gone rogue.