Lucky Seven
Page 62
After further changes to my first day I may not make it into the office at all today.
I shall expect to see you in the morning no later than 8 a.m.
Oh, and Ms Ross, don’t ever fucking hang up on me!
Denton Miller
CEO Miller Industries (Europe)
“He’s really got to be kidding me, hasn’t he?” I asked pulling Maya to see my second email, but she literally just squealed with some kind of delight.
“I think I am going to enjoy working here, a boss that emails with swearing and a bollocking! Come on, lunch, I only have cover on reception for one hour, meaning we now have exactly forty seven minutes to be back here.”
Every mouthful of my linguini that tasted like shoe laces rather than pasta got stuck where I imagined my gullet might be, even with the assistance of two glasses of a non-alcoholic beverage.
“Do you think he’ll sack me?” I asked Maya who had no problems digesting her food that was a steak and ale pie with seasonal vegetables and seriously chunky chips.
“No, I wouldn’t have thought the interruption of a mid coital rendezvous with his mistress would be classed as a sackable offence.”
“Thanks,” I replied, wondering what else I could say to that and decided there was no more to say.
I returned to my office, which was actually a working space within Mr Miller’s office space. I suppose it could be seen that I occupied his vestibule or an atrium, the space between his inner sanctum and the world beyond, although as this space happened to be at the furthest point of the building everywhere else was the world beyond. I liked that a small amount of reworking had been done up here so I didn’t mistake the office as Michael’s, it was Mr Miller’s and I couldn’t, wouldn’t forget my place. As well as my work space, this area also housed his reception area, the place where I’d be responsible for entertaining any visitors who were waiting for my boss. Maybe if he was finishing off Tia, or whoever.
With I sigh I observed the boxes of stationery that still littered my floor and decided to tackle them, get to the bottom of it all, just not yet. After a cup of coffee, if I could find where the coffee machine was housed. Yes, that was a plan. Coffee, and just in case my wayward boss turned up I’d take my photocopying down the hall with me and make myself look busy.
It was another forty-five minutes before I found myself back at my desk, with coffee and the photocopied proposals that Mr Miller would need later in the week. The mess on my floor was worse than I had remembered. Could this day get any worse I wondered once more as another email hit my inbox?
Ms Ross,
You appear to have littered the floor with semi-unpacked boxes of stationery, please resolve this issue. Also, why do we have such a ridiculous amount of compliment slips and headed paper? We live in an age of electronic communication. I think you may have overstocked somewhat. Again, resolve before tomorrow morning.
I am out for the day. In the event of an emergency, I repeat, EMERGENCY you may call me!
I take my tea with just a dash of milk, no sugar, and coffee no milk, one sugar. I drink tea until 10 a.m. and coffee thereafter, unless I instruct you otherwise.
Regards,
Denton Miller
CEO Miller Industries (Europe)
“Fucking numb nuts,” I told him even though I was alone. The cheek of this man. “I have semi-unpacked the stationery that was ordered by someone else, not me, and I know we live in an age of electronic communications, so I have not overstocked anything and yet I am expected to sort it. I will call you when hell freezes over after my initial attempt at contact and on top of that I am now your tea girl!”
The sound of my phone’s ring brought me back to the here and now, Michael.
“Hi, you okay?” I answered.
“Yes, just checking in. How’s your day going?” he asked and as much as I wanted to vent I knew he wouldn’t get it. He’d turn everything on its head and blame me. Not me personally, but my position, so I replied accordingly.
“The new boss had a change of plan. He appears to have popped in, a visit I missed and now he’s not in until tomorrow, but things are fine.”
“You don’t sound sure? Maybe you should think about scaling back, love.”
Oh my God! I actually wanted to scream at him because he was the retired one, not me, I wasn’t even half way there. Why the hell would I want to scale back, but as usual he continued to speak.
“There’s a group, at the hospital, a support group for families. You could help them out, or Johnny at the golf club was saying they’re looking to take on a part timer to help with memberships…”
I cut him off, abruptly. “Michael, I don’t want to scale back, nor work at the golf club, nor listen to people discuss how hard it is to, well, whatever. Denton Miller may prove to be more of a challenge than I had first imagined, but it’s fine. What do you fancy doing this evening?” I asked hoping he’d say something exciting, different to the norm, maybe even dinner, alcohol, a bath and an early night.
“I’m easy, whatever you want darling, although there is a documentary on the demise of the bee on at half-past eight so I’d like to be done by then.”
“And an early night?” I suggested, hating myself a little for pleading for his time, attention and his penis. This day really was turning to shit.
“El, I don’t know, we’ll see,” he said, the dismissal obvious in his tone.
“I might be going out straight from work,” I lied. “Maya is back here, she’s the exec’s receptionist now, so I thought we might catch up, in the pub, or a bar or something.”
I was slightly disgusted with myself for lying so blatantly to my husband. Something I’d never done, about plans that didn’t exist, but the mere thought of sitting and listening to a blow by blow account of why bees were disappearing made me want to cry. Almost as much as the idea of drinking cocoa before finding myself sitting up in bed reading stories of passion and romance while my husband slept next to me, snoring, having managed to fall asleep in the time it took me to wash my face and brush my teeth.
“Oh, okay, well let me know when you’ve decided what you’re doing, and remember me to Maya.”
“Okay,” I whispered before guiltily but honestly adding, “I love you, Michael.”
“I know darling, and I love you too.”
Throwing my phone into my bag I felt shittier than I might have ever felt, but more than that I felt discontent, sad and restless, and possibly a little reckless.