“Don’t be silly. Why would it?”
“Uh, because I make a third of what these people make every month. And I’m Black.”
Helen shook her head. “The receptionist is Black too, with darker skin than yours, sweetheart.”
“Fine, then it’ll just eject me because I’m poor.”
She rolled her eyes at his exaggeration. “You’re hardly poor.”
“I am compared to these blokes.” He nodded towards a man who walked past in a crisp suit which fit so perfectly it looked like it had been sewn right onto his body.
Helen couldn’t help but grin. “I know this is probably the wrong thing to say, but you’d be so hot in one of those fancy suits.”
He smiled at her. “Marry me one day and I’ll get a tailor-made suit. Until then, you’ll have to put up with my M&S work suits.”
She reached out and squeezed his arm. “You look damn good in those too. You’d make anything look good.”
“You’re just trying to sweet-talk me so I’ll relax,” he muttered.
She beamed at him. “Is it working?”
Jamie never had a chance to answer as a woman with perfect posture and a kind, if somewhat wary, smile appeared at his side.
“Hello? I assume you are my two visitors? Ms. Collins and Mr. Achidi. Am I pronouncing that correctly?”
Helen was about to ask how she had guessed but then realised that they were the only two people waiting in reception.
“Uh, yes you are. This is Jamie Achidi and I’m Helen Collins. Sorry to interrupt your workday, we just have a quick question.”
If Rebecca was curious or confused about them, it didn’t show. But then Helen was quite sure this was the sort of woman who would have a perfect poker face. Posh, professional and polite.
Helen looked closer, partly to try and see beyond the deliberate body language, and partly to see what it was her best friend saw in this woman. She saw what she would describe as a classically beautiful woman who was approaching middle age but was not there yet. Rebecca looked fit and had great posture. Her face showed a polite and open expression, so the situation clearly wasn’t unnerving her. Just as Helen thought that, there was what looked like a quick glance over at the security guard. Or had she imagined that?
“A question about someone who works in my local bookshop, I gather? This is quite unusual and I would normally not have taken this meeting but you piqued my interest. Do you want to go to a meeting room?”
Sensing Jamie’s body tensing next to her, Helen decided that a stuffy meeting room in this palace of a building was not advisable.
“No, this will be fine. We know this is unconventional and that you’re busy. We can just ask you a quick question here and then let you get back to your day.”
Rebecca gave them a polite nod and a smile. “All right. Ask away.”
Looking at Jamie, who still looked tense, Helen decided that he was going to be more of a silent partner in all of this and so she forged on.
“Zoe Achidi is Jamie’s sister, and my best friend. I think you know her? She works at Darren’s Book Nook?”
Helen wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or if the polite smile on Rebecca’s face just turned a little warmer.
“Yes. I’ve run into her both in the shop and in her local library, as a matter of fact. I have to confess that you mentioning her name was what made me come down and see two strangers without an appointment.”
“Right, sorry again for just showing up and being so mysterious. I’ll get right to it. As you must have noticed, Zoe’s an intelligent and hardworking person and she is completely wasted on Darren and his neglected money pit of a shop. She stays there out of loyalty but she needs to move on. Move up, you know?”
Rebecca nodded so Helen continued.
“She spoke about you and what you do for a living and mentioned in passing where you work. So, we thought of you and your expertise in recruitment and the connections you must have, and wondered if perhaps you could help her find a better job, somehow? Or maybe just give her some pointers about the best way of applying for jobs? Any help at all, really. She wouldn’t ask for herself. We’re trying to, you know, help her out. Realise her true potential and all that. Sorry if this is really cheeky.”
Rebecca’s smile certainly grew this time. “No, it’s quite all right. Hmm. I’d love to help but my work doesn’t relate directly to recruitment these days; I’m not a consultant. Although, I might be able to help and point her in the right direction. I know very little about Zoe, so I wouldn’t quite know what sort of job she would be suited for. However, I would love to discuss it further with her directly and assist in any way I can.”
The answer came right away and there was real enthusiasm in Rebecca’s voice. Helen tried to suppress the smile she felt creeping into the corners of her mouth. Rebecca’s response seemed overly helpful towards someone who just provided you with books occasionally.
Helen had no gaydar at all, so she wouldn’t dare to try to guess if Rebecca was romantically interested in Zoe. But there was some kind of interest, even if it was just friendly. The fact that she had come down to meet them right out of the blue proved that.
“That’s great. I’ll tell her you are willing to help her and to get in touch with you. Okay if she sends you an email?”
“Yes, that would probably be easiest.”
“Brilliant. Right, we should be leaving,” Jamie said, almost making Helen jump when he broke his stony silence.
“Yes, he’s right. We’ll get Zoe to get in touch with you, Ms. Clare. Thanks again,” Helen said.
“Please, call me Rebecca. I’ll look forward to the email.”
Helen and Jamie smiled at her and began to walk away. They both turned as she added, “might I ask why the two of you are going to these lengths to help her find a new job?”
Helen stopped herself from squirming under Rebecca’s examining gaze.
“Honestly? She’s been stuck in this dead-end job, in her tiny flat, and in her uneventful social life for ages. She’s miserable but doesn’t feel like she deserves any better. We thought that getting some help from you might be the incentive she needs to get something moving.”
Rebecca looked taken aback and Helen wondered if it was because of the mention of Zoe’s social life or because they were planning this behind Zoe’s back.
“I see. Well, that seems like a shame. For someone with Zoe’s charisma to be stuck in a situation she is not happy with, I mean. I’ll be glad to help her, if she wants my help.”
The message was clear. Rebecca was only going to get involved if Zoe wanted her to. Helen sighed in relief, that was the sort of respect and consideration she wanted from anyone in her best friend’s life.
What was also stood out to Helen were the words “for someone with Zoe’s charisma.” That sounded like more than friendly appreciation to her. But it was hard to tell with someone as polished and proper as Rebecca Clare.
“I’ll make sure to tell her that this was all our idea and that you’re only willing to help if she wants your assistance. Sound okay?” Helen asked.
“Certainly. Take care and thank you for the visit.”
“Thank you. And bye,” Jamie replied with a nod.
He put his arm around Helen and they walked out. When they were outside the tall building, he stopped and faced her.
“So?”
“So what?” Helen replied.
“So, do you think she fancies Zoe?”
“I don’t know. You are better at reading people than I am.”
Jamie ran his hand over his chin. “Yeah. I think she likes her. I’m just not sure if she likes her in the way that wants to get in her knickers.”
Helen grimaced. “I really don’t think you should be talking about people getting into your little sister’s knickers.”
He scrunched up his nose. “Helen, eww. Did you have to make it weird?”
Then he marched on towards the tube stop with his gaze somewhere in the d
istance. Helen walked after him in her own pace, aware that she could never keep up with her shorter legs and knowing he would wait patiently for her no matter how long she took.
She felt proud of herself. This was a way to get things moving in Zoe’s life, and to get her to pursue things with Rebecca, if possible.
Now she just had to figure out a way to convince Zoe of that. And to keep herself from being killed the second Zoe found out what she and Jamie had done. The thought made her take a deep breath while getting her Oyster card ready and heading down the steps towards to the tube.
Chapter 8
Zoe
Zoe’s temples had stopped throbbing. She was slowly but surely cooling down after the fit of rage she’d had when Helen called to say what they had done.
Zoe huffed out a breath. She couldn’t believe her oldest friend thought it was acceptable to tell her over the phone like that. Coward.
She had been so furious and shouted about how they had embarrassed her in front of Rebecca and gone over her head like she was a child and not a twenty-six-year-old woman. Then she had hung up.
That had been, she checked her wristwatch, seven minutes ago. She was only now breathing calmly again. She was evaluating the situation. How much damage had been done here? There was a silver lining, of course. Rebecca had agreed to help and said nice things about her. But still, she was mortified. Mortified and… terrified. There was no hiding now. Rebecca was expecting her email.
Sure, she could email and say that it was a misunderstanding and that she was happy with the way things were. But that wouldn’t help anyone. It would just be awkward and she’d be throwing away her chance. Even amidst her anger and fear, Zoe knew that.
With a deep breath that caught a little, she sat down by her battered old laptop and opened her email. She wrote in the address that she had memorized and then stared at the blank square where she would have to try to be casual, witty, succinct, and professional–all in one. How the hell was she going to do that?
She wrote a quick thank you, apologized for her brother and best friend bothering her at her place of work, and asked when would be a good time and place for her to meet. She ended it with a polite hope that Rebecca was well and her best regards.
Then she amended it.
Then she amended it again.
And once more.
Then she swore at herself and pushed send before she spent any more time on this one, short message. She sat back in the chair and realised that her hands were shaking.
“Bloody hell, woman, get yourself together,” she muttered to herself.
She went to put some tea on and maybe try to find some biscuits at the back of her cupboard, she needed to get her blood sugar up after all that.
Tea and half a pack of Bourbons in hand, she went back to sit in front of her laptop. She figured she could watch a few booktuber videos on YouTube while she got some caffeine and sugar into her system.
To her surprise, there was an email. An email from Rebecca Clare.
Zoe stared at it with her mouth full of unchewed biscuit. She felt a buzzing sensation in her stomach but couldn’t tell if it was a thrill or the start of a panic attack.
She opened it and started to read, while finally chewing her biscuit.
Dear Zoe,
Yes, I will be glad to help. My father always said that if you reach higher ground, pull others up along with you. Maybe by helping you, I could be following his advice.
As we both clearly know the way to Queenswell library and there seemed to be a few tables available, perhaps we can meet there? Would Saturday work for you? Say 9am?
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Kind regards,
Rebecca Clare
Zoe looked at the words on her screen. Rebecca wanted to pull her up. Zoe wasn’t quite sure what that meant but she was ecstatic and couldn’t stop herself from fist-pumping into the air. Despite Helen and Jamie saying that Rebecca had seemed happy to help, Zoe had not quite believed it. A part of her had been sure that Rebecca would find a way to nicely get out of the arrangement.
She hurried to reply.
Dear Rebecca,
That sounds great! Thanks. We’ll have to make it after 9.30 though because I think that’s when the library opens on Saturdays. Maybe say 10 to be sure?
Best,
Zoe
A reply confirming that ten would be good came in soon afterwards and Zoe felt strangely proud that Rebecca was replying so fast. That could simply mean that Rebecca was bored or that she was the type that replied to all correspondence immediately. The latter seemed more likely. Not that Zoe knew that for sure, as with most of her facts about Rebecca, it was all assumptions and educated guesses.
She was going to remedy that soon, though. Saturday at ten. She hoped with every fibre of her being that she wasn’t going to be disappointed. Maybe Rebecca would turn out to be way too dull? Or some kind of right-wing crazypants?
No, she was sure that her view of Rebecca was real. Saints know, she had looked closely enough. Every time Rebecca had come into the shop, it had been as if Zoe’s senses had heightened. She could remember what Rebecca had said, if she seemed stressed, and what she was wearing for basically all of the many occasions.
That was when it hit her. What she was wearing… what the hell was she going to wear to meet up with Rebecca Clare? To talk about jobs and applications, no less. It had to seem professional, as if she took this seriously, but still be casual enough to make it seem like she hadn’t spent days agonizing about what to wear.
Zoe looked over at her small wardrobe and groaned out loud.
Chapter 9
Zoe
The wind was chilly that Saturday morning and Zoe was glad she had put on the posh-looking leather jacket over her knitted cardigan. The jacket was loaned to her by Helen, who had been over the moon to hear that Zoe was seeing Rebecca so soon, and had gladly helped her pick out some clothes.
Helen had focused on making Zoe look business-like and ready to give this opportunity her all, while Zoe had been more worried about looking like she was trying too hard and wondering what the outfit did for her figure. In the end, they had come up with an outfit that looked professional to Helen and casual and attractive enough for Zoe. Black leather jacket, a tight green cardigan, an ironed white shirt, simple boots, and black corduroy trousers.
It all kept the chill out nicely, something Zoe was grateful for now as the late autumn winds were threatening to freeze her bum off.
In her hands were two small takeaway cups. Zoe was worrying that the contents of the cups might grow cold if Rebecca didn’t show soon, so she was relieved when she saw her striding her way. She was, as always, a vision. Wearing an elegant charcoal-grey coat, which set off the red in her hair, what looked like skinny black jeans, and long boots. And to top it off, a dazzling smile which made subtle lines appear next to her eyes.
Zoe felt the strange urge to run. Rebecca was too attractive and no borrowed clothes could make her worthy of being in the same room as this woman. Instead of taking off for the hills, she managed to speak.
“Hi. I got us some espressos. I don’t know if we’re allowed to have drinks in there but I didn’t want us to go without caffeine.”
Rebecca looked at the two small cups which steamed in the cold air.
“Oh, how thoughtful of you. Espresso is actually my poison of choice so you just made me a very happy woman.”
She took one of the cups, sipped it, and, apparently finding it an acceptable temperature, downed the contents in one go.
Zoe looked at her for an awkward amount of time and then followed suit. While the cold air had chilled the espresso, it was still quite hot and Zoe found herself coughing.
“Wow, that was hotter than you made it look. Yeah, you must be used to drinking these,” Zoe spluttered.
Rebecca laughed. “Sorry, I’ve probably got asbestos lining in my throat after having to down one or two of those in a hurry before a presentation
or meeting. Are you all right?”
Zoe gave one last cough. “Yeah, I’m fine. Wanna go in?”
Rebecca nodded and walked ahead up the stairs to the entrance. It was only then that Zoe noticed that she was carrying a briefcase, which bulged like it had been overfilled. She was happy that she had brought a notebook, some pens, and a basic account of her school period and the years she had worked at Darren’s.
They sat down at the end of the long table in the library’s reference room and Zoe looked around. Tall shelves filled with reference books, most of them old and nicely bound, covered the walls. Some shelves seemed to have broken free and shot off in rows into the room, leaving only enough room for one rectangular table where people could sit. There were a few old men sitting around and reading the newspapers but, other than that, the room was unusually empty. It was clearly not exam time as then the room was always stuffed with students.
She saw Rebecca open her briefcase and bring out a small MacBook. Then she produced a black leather notebook, the pen she had bought in the shop the other day, and a folded newspaper.
“Right. First off, I’m afraid I cannot use Acacia Recruitment to help you. The company specialises in medical staffing and my role has nothing to do with the actual recruitment process these days. However, I’m still able to help you with the fundamentals of job hunting.”
“Sure, that makes sense. I just want your insight into how all of this works and, you know, a place to start.”
“Good. That I can do. I brought the newspaper if you wanted to look at the job ads in it, but to be frank with you, I think you’d be better off looking online. But we should probably start with looking over your CV; there’s no point in looking for jobs unless you have something to send to people.”
Zoe nodded, too busy looking at Rebecca’s face to find words to reply with. During their brief conversation, her expression had changed from serene pleasantness to business focused. That presence, which Zoe had always loved was now in full force; Rebecca Clare looked like a woman you didn’t want to mess with and Zoe felt herself go weak at the knees.
Life Pushes You Along: A woman-loving-woman romance novella Page 4