by Zoe May
She raises an eyebrow, clearly not quite sure what to make of me. I may be acting like I know what I’m doing, but I don’t think she’s buying it. I don’t exactly look business-like. Today I’m rocking jeans and a slightly ratty grey sweater that I found in a charity shop. It definitely doesn’t scream businesswoman, but there must be something about my firm, forthright manner that makes the receptionist decide to assist me.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Polly Wood,’ I tell her.
‘And which company are you from?’
‘To the Moon & Back,’ I admit.
‘Right….’ The receptionist raises an eyebrow, nodding slowly, as she reaches for her phone. Her face doesn’t give much away, but I can tell she’s a little taken aback.
‘Hi Olly. I have a lady in reception here to see you. Polly Wood from To the Moon & Back.’
She cups the receiver to her ear as Olly says something. For a moment, I have a strong urge to turn around and slip back through the revolving doors. What am I doing? Heading up to that swanky office to confront Olly Corrigan? This was probably a really bad idea.
‘Okay, yes. I’ll send her up.’ She hangs up the phone and meets my gaze, her eyes stony.
‘He can see you now. If you could just head to the tenth floor, he’ll meet you there,’ she says, with that polished, well-practised smile.
I thank her and head to the lift.
As I step inside, I glance over my shoulder wondering if it’s too late to turn around and dash out. But then, I really want to know what Olly’s playing at. Derek’s right, he is a bit of a cad. He shouldn’t be poaching clients from To the Moon & Back and spying on us and being so competitive. He’s so annoying, with his swanky office and cool young team who all want to crush us under the heels of their shiny stilettos. No. Some people actually want to earn an honest living, take care of their families and live a comfortable life. Why can’t Olly just co-exist with Derek? Why does he have to try to crush his competition like this? By the time the lift reaches Olly’s floor, I feel really pumped and all of my nervousness and misgivings have gone.
The lift doors open and there Olly is, standing by a plant in the foyer of his open plan office, waiting for me, his arms folded across his chest. He looks gorgeous. Disarmingly handsome and for a moment, my stomach does a little flip and butterflies replace the frustration burning inside.
‘Polly,’ he says, stepping forward to shake my hand. A wry smile plays on his lips. He doesn’t seem at all surprised or taken aback that I’m here.
‘Hi Olly,’ I reply, clasping his hand.
‘Taking a break from chartered surveying?’ Olly jokes, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
I roll my eyes and try to give him a stern stare, but his handsome, playful expression is difficult to contend with. I forgot how good-looking he is. I forgot how much his presence just radiates. His sparkling brown eyes, natural charisma and his wide bright smile are making this whole thing a little difficult.
‘Can we speak in private please?’ I ask, glancing over at his watchful team, a few of whom immediately avert their gaze when they catch me looking over. Do they have to be so nosy?
‘Sure. Come to my office,’ Olly says, beckoning me to follow him.
I can feel his staff watching us as we walk to Olly’s office, but I ignore their curious looks and take in Olly’s outfit instead. Today he’s rocking a pair of ridiculously over-the-top embroidered beaded trousers and a Gucci T-shirt.
‘Take a seat,’ he says, gesturing at the chair opposite his desk. I sit down on the edge of the seat, careful not to make myself too comfortable. I’m not planning to stick around.
‘So, has Derek send you back to snoop around again.’
‘No, he hasn’t,’ I tut, feeling irritated.
‘Then, erm, why are you here?’ Olly asks, raising an eyebrow.
‘I’m here because of Elliot,’ I tell him.
Olly frowns. ‘Elliot?’
‘Yes, your business development manager. I just saw him outside. I take it you sent him to visit To the Moon & Back?’
‘Oh, that…’ Olly murmurs, leaning back in his chair.
‘I guess you figured out Derek was up to something and decided to send someone to spy on his agency. Was it a retaliation or something?’ I ask.
‘No,’ Olly laughs, shaking his head. ‘I didn’t even know Elliot had visited your offices, but I can figure out why.’
‘Why?’ I stress.
‘Derek has a great location there – right on the top floor of that financial advisory firm. It’s a perfect place to get clients. All those single finance guys with money… Elliot’s been talking about buying Derek’s premises for a while, so I guess he just went to have a look around,’ Olly explains.
‘What? Seriously?’ I balk.
‘Yeah.’ Olly shrugs. ‘He’s responsible for expanding my business and he thinks buying up Derek’s office would be a good move. He’s been talking about it for ages.’
‘Derek’s office isn’t for sale,’ I point out, exasperated.
‘Oh, I know, but we know the property manager. Derek’s only renting. If we wanted to buy, he’d just give Derek notice on his tenancy,’ Olly explains, before picking up his phone and calling his assistant to bring us two glasses of sparkling water. He places the phone back down in the receiver and leans back in his chair, crossing his hands over his stomach.
‘What’s up?’ he asks, as I stare at him in disbelief.
‘Do you really think it’s okay to just trample over everyone?’ I ask.
‘I’m not!’ Olly insists, looking affronted, although his indignance doesn’t quite ring true.
His assistant comes in carrying a tray with two glasses of sparkling water, which she lays down discreetly on the table, clearly sensing the tension in the room. Olly and I quietly thank her and she slips back out.
Olly takes a sip of his water. ‘Look, I didn’t know Elliot had gone to check out Derek’s premises, but I knew he was interested in the office. It’s a good location and we are a business, after all. I haven’t taken offence over you coming to spy on my agency. I get why Derek did it. It’s just business, Polly!’ Olly shrugs.
I sigh, giving him a withering look. Here he is, sitting in his fancy office with his state-of-the-art giant Mac computer and original artwork on the walls and team of cool trendy staff next door. I get that he’s running a business, but he already has it all. Why can’t he just let Derek be? He’d still be thriving. And it’s not like Olly has a wife to worry about. He probably splurges his money at designer boutiques and yet Derek has genuine worries and real financial needs.
‘I only came to see you because you were taking business from Derek and he wanted to find out what your secret is. He’s just trying to save his business. He really needs to,’ I emphasise.
‘Well, I really need my business too,’ Olly huffs.
‘Sure…’ I mutter.
‘I do!’ Olly insists, but he has no idea. He spends his money on Gucci tops, not medical bills.
‘Derek’s wife’s unwell you know,’ I blurt out. I know I shouldn’t be divulging Derek’s personal information, but I can’t help it. Olly’s frustrating me too much. ‘Can’t you just leave him be? I know it’s the New York way to clamber over everyone until you get to the top, but could you maybe have some humility and just let To the Moon & Back exist too? There’s room for both agencies in New York, you know?’
Olly raises an eyebrow sceptically, but I stare back, not willing to let him get to me with his cynical dog-eat-dog corporate attitude. Gradually his expression changes and becomes softer.
‘I’ve worked hard to build up this business,’ he says eventually. ‘I’m good at it.’
‘I know, but so’s Derek,’ I insist. ‘It’s his passion. He really lives for it.’ I think back to how Derek was today after having seen Brandon enthusing about Eve. ‘He lights up when one of his clients finds love. It’s because of his wife. He really loves her. He s
aid she saved him, and now she’s unwell and he wants to help her.’
‘She’s unwell?’ Olly asks.
‘Yes, she’s got an issue with her knee,’ I tell him.
‘Oh…’ Olly mutters, reaching for his glass of sparkling water.
‘She’s seeing doctors and needs surgery. Derek has all these medical bills to pay and yet you’re making his life difficult just to make a bit of extra money. Money you probably don’t even need.’
Olly frowns, but he looks pensive and I can tell my words have struck a chord. He looks away, avoiding my gaze. His jaw’s gone tense and a muscle twitches in his neck. He takes another sip of his sparkling water and places it down, not saying a word. For a moment, I wonder whether I’ve said too much, perhaps I’ve gone too far.
‘I’m sorry…’ I move to get up. ‘I’ll go.’
‘No, don’t.’ Olly gestures for me to sit back down. ‘You’re right.’ He lets out a raggedy breath and throws his hands up in mock surrender.
‘Maybe I have been too competitive. It’s just how I do business.’ He scratches his head. ‘I wasn’t thinking about Derek’s personal life. Of course, I wasn’t. I was just thinking about…’ He pauses, searching for the right word. ‘… Money.’
I smile sympathetically. Olly meets my gaze and he really does look quite contrite. Behind his fancy designer glasses, his eyes are concerned and tender. Guilty. And I can see that there is something too him. He’s not just a fancy label-obsessed corporate asshole, he has depth. It’s obscured behind a lot of layers of vanity, distracting clothing, dazzlingly bright teeth and swanky surroundings, but it’s there. A raw, tender person with emotional depth is definitely there. It’s just been buried deep.
‘It’s understandable,’ I comment.
Olly nods. ‘Maybe. But maybe I have been taking it too far. I’ll tell Elliot to leave Derek alone. We’ll back off,’ he says, fixing me with that penetrating look. His eyes are deep and rich and full of thoughts and feeling and without realising it, I’ve edged my seat closer to his desk. I suddenly realise I’ve tilted my head to the side a little and I’m just gazing. Gazing into his eyes. He’s looking back into mine and neither of us are actually saying anything. But it’s as though we’re communicating anyway. He’s telling me he’s sorry and he’s telling me it’s okay that I’ve spoken to him about this. And I’m telling him that it’s okay that he’s been ruthless and competitive. And underpinning the mutual understanding is this raw magnetism, this intense attraction pulling us together. It’s like we’re just bonded by the look passing between us, creating our own energy field, a pull. If I ever tried to convince myself I wasn’t attracted to Olly Corrigan, I was wrong. He may dress like a bit of an idiot. He may be twenty years older than me. He may have the whitest teeth of all the insta-famous people I’ve ever seen but he’s also got a soul. An open, vulnerable and sensitive soul. I can see it in his eyes. I can feel it.
His phone suddenly rings, and he looks away to answer it, switching back into corporate mode. I pick up a paperweight from his desk and pass it between my hands as Olly takes the call. It seems to be a journalist calling about a story – something to do with Olly’s PR firm.
‘Sorry, one moment,’ Olly says, cupping his hand over the receiver. He turns his attention back to me. ‘Sorry, Polly. It’s the Washington Post calling about setting up an interview with one of my PR clients. I can’t ask them to call back. Journalists hate that kind of thing.’
‘That’s okay.’ I place the paperweight back on the desk. I’m not sure what I was hanging about for. Aside from the simmering unresolved tension between me and Olly, there’s nothing really left to say. I stand up and hitch my bag back onto my shoulder. ‘I need to get back to work anyway.
Olly smiles. ‘Okay, well don’t worry, I’ll back off. I’ll give Derek some breathing room,’ he says kindly, but there’s tension around his brow now and I can tell he’s eager to get back to the phone call.
‘Thanks Olly, I really appreciate it,’ I reply.
He nods, smiling a little tightly, before raising the receiver back to his ear. I cross the office and wave distractedly over my shoulder as I leave. Olly waves back before swivelling his chair away so I’m no longer in his eyeline.
I slip out of his office, gently closing the door behind me, before walking towards the lift. I ignore the curious stares of his staff as I wait for the lift to arrive and step inside. As the lift sinks down to the ground floor, I feel strange and torn. I fancy Olly. I really fancy him. I’m drawn to him. I want to know more about what’s going on in those deep mysterious eyes. We saw eye to eye in that office – literally and metaphorically – and I could have sworn something occurred between us. We formed a connection. And yet unfortunately, it sort of feels like we’re done. He’s handling his call, he’s dealt with me. He’s agreed to stop trying to crush To the Moon & Back. We won’t need to be interfering with each other’s businesses anymore and there’s no reason for us to ever deal with each other again.
The receptionist catches my eye as I arrive back down in reception.
‘Did you have a good meeting?’ she asks, with her polished smile.
‘Yes, thanks,’ I reply.
‘Great. Well, have a good day, she comments.
‘You too.’
‘Bye,’ she adds.
‘Bye,’ I echo sadly as I leave.
Chapter 19
‘Hang on a minute.’ Gabe raises his hand to stop me talking. As usual, our little argument on Saturday was completely forgotten and instead of going over it, I told him all about my encounter with Olly.
‘You just popped in to see Olly Corrigan and asked him to stop being so competitive in business?’ Gabe asks, his lips twitching.
‘Umm, yeah. Basically,’ I admit.
Gabe’s lips twist into a smile, his cheeks growing red until he bursts into laughter. He laughs so hard that he reaches for a nearby cushion and buries his face in it. I giggle along but I’m not quite sure what the big deal is.
‘What?’
Gabe keeps laughing. When he eventually pulls the cushion away from his face, his eyes are wet with tears he’s been laughing so hard.
‘Oh my God, sorry Polly,’ he wheezes, shaking his head as he recovers himself.
‘Why’s it so funny?’
‘You’re just…’ He pauses and looks me up and down as he searches for the right words. ‘… The least corporate person in the whole of Manhattan! You don’t just walk into your rival’s office and say, “Hey, would you mind not competing with us? That would be fab, thanks”,’ Gabe teases, laughing to himself.
I shrug. ‘Well, it worked.’
‘Seriously?’ Gabe doesn’t seem convinced.
‘Well yeah, he promised to back off and give Derek a break. He literally promised. Anyway, I’m not bothered about Derek anymore! I’m worried about me!’
‘You?’ Gabe raises an eyebrow. ‘What’s up?’
I glance down at my lap and take a deep breath. ‘I fancy Olly Corrigan,’ I confess, my eyes still fixed on the hem of my shirt. ‘I really fancy him.’
It’s unnerving hearing the words leave my own mouth when so far, they’ve just been rattling around my head. I can’t believe I’ve said it. I haven’t fancied anyone for ages. In the whole two and a half years I’ve known Gabe, I’ve never properly been into anyone. Sure, I’ve had little crushes, like with that Greek guy Demetrius who I sent the embarrassing peach and aubergine emojis to but nothing significant. Nothing that’s shaken me up or gotten to me in the way Olly has.
‘Oh yeah.’ Gabe nods. ‘I know you fancy him.’
‘What?’ I gawp. ‘What do you mean you know?’ I sneer.
Gabe rolls his eyes. ‘It was pretty obvious, Poll.’
‘How was it obvious?’ I scoff.
‘I could just tell from the way you were looking at him and talking to him at Milano’s,’ Gabe insists.
‘Oh really? I didn’t even fancy him back then!’
‘Sure,’ Gabe jokes. ‘Of course, you fancied him. He’s hot. He’s got that cool, charismatic, rich thing going on. He’s super sexy.’
I think back to his eyes today, the enigmatic depths and tenderness I saw in them. He is sexy. His cool attitude coupled with his sensitive eyes and charming smile: it’s an intoxicating combination.
‘Yeah, he is sexy. So sexy…’ I murmur wistfully.
‘So are you gonna hit it?’ Gabe asks with a cheeky smile.
‘Hit it?’ I scoff. ‘I can’t hit it. He’s Olly Corrigan. Super cool businessman. Dating entrepreneur of the year. PR boss. I can’t just hit him up on Tinder and invite him over for some Netflix and chill.’
Gabe smirks. ‘Yeah, I guess not. But if he agreed to stop going after your business, I’d imagine he didn’t just do that from the kindness of his heart.’ Gabe winks.
‘What do you mean?’
Gabe rolls his eyes exasperatedly. ‘What do you think I mean?! He probably wants to bang you! I know you don’t really understand the corporate world, but people don’t just stop being competitive because someone asks them nicely. He fancies you or he wouldn’t have agreed to back off,’ Gabe states firmly.
Gabe’s conviction is quite compelling, but I can’t help thinking back to the way Olly answered his phone and swivelled his chair away from me, as though we were just done. As though our business was finished. Surely if he fancied me, he would have at least said goodbye properly?
‘Maybe he was just being nice,’ I suggest. ‘Derek’s wife is unwell after all. I just really don’t think he’s interested. Why would he be? He’s, like, twenty years older than me and he’s incredibly cool! He could take his pick of all the fashionable cute girls in the city. There are at least a dozen in his office alone. I doubt he wants a scruffy broke wannabe photographer.’
Gabe rolls his eyes. ‘Seriously? Is that how you see yourself? As a scruffy broke wannabe?’
‘Yes,’ I admit, with a sad smile.
Gabe looks at me sympathetically. ‘Babe…’