‘Who?’ Phil yawned and switched on his computer.
‘Smug Barbie.’
‘Who?’ Phil looked at me strangely. He bent down to his computer, read his email and gasped. ‘Holy God, she’s gone.’
We nodded wide-eyed at each other.
‘What about Death Night?’ I asked, mewing a bit like a cat.
‘What about …’ Phil paused dramatically ‘… everything?’
‘We’ll have to spend day and night here just to finish our work. What about her other projects? I don’t know anything about them.’
The last of my spare time shrivelled up at the thought.
‘I can’t handle this so early without coffee. I’m so shocked. Where are the emergency Mars bars?’
I pointed under the desk. Phil dropped to his knees and I heard wrappers being ripped open.
‘Phil,’ I said tentatively, ‘what about the board presentation? Isn’t that this week?’
‘Our lives are over,’ he said, chewing with an open mouth.
As we miserably headed to the kitchen to make a very strong coffee of commiseration, Glenn strode past. ‘Oh, Emily!’ he said smoothly, not stopping to talk but continuing walking.
I swivelled around and called after him, ‘Um, it’s Emma.’
‘Yes, of course. There’s a new man here in the foyer. Taking over Donna’s role. His first day. Can you show him around?’
‘Today? Already? I thought Donna said …’
Glenn was already at the end of the corridor.
‘Yes, sure I’ll do it. What’s his name?’
But already I was talking to a closed door that Glenn had managed to slip behind.
Phil couldn’t say anything because his mouth was still full of Mars bar and he was concentrating on directing the machine to put mountainous amounts of coffee into two cups.
‘More for me,’ I called out, because no matter how much coffee he put in there today, it would never be enough.
As I waited for the lift, I sighed. This is just what I need, I thought fiercely. Donna leaving me an entire new task list and there’s not a thing I can do about it. I hoped the new guy was nice. I hoped he didn’t want me discussing sorbets or choosing fabrics for the event. I hoped he would help me choose a theme, because we needed one, like yesterday.
The lift opened and, in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, I caught sight of my hair. I licked my hand and flattened it down, begging it to behave. My black high-waisted pants and nude silk shirt looked chic, so, hopefully, I’d be able to make a slightly good impression on my new boss, even if my hair had a mind of its own.
The lift rocketed to the ground floor like a shuttle and dinged as it opened onto the shiny black waxed floor of reception, where Bel and Beth (today’s morning receptionists) smiled sweetly at every customer and offered them Champagne or coffee.
‘Morning, ladies, I hear we have a new starter replacing Donna?’
Beth nodded. ‘The man over there.’ She pointed under the desk. ‘Mr Taylor.’
On the solo black leather couch an older gentleman with white hair was sitting in a smart suit.
With my best smile and a tug at my shirt, I strode over to meet him. ‘Hello, Mr Taylor, I’m Emma. One of your new team.’ I leaned over and offered my hand.
The man looked up at me, clearly confused. ‘I’m not Mr Taylor.’
‘Oh, you’re not?’ I looked back at Beth. She was shaking her head furiously.
‘I’m Mr Taylor,’ a voice said. A tallish man with sandy blond hair standing with his back to us, behind the old gentleman, turned around.
My mouth dropped open.
‘Hello, Emma. Nice to see you.’
I couldn’t speak. I thought I was going to faint. Or throw up. My mouth flung open. My stomach flipped a thousand times. THIS CAN NOT BE REAL. I am seeing things.
But I wasn’t. Standing right in front of me was a man I’d most recently seen covered in soap suds and standing in a shower.
‘You can call me Nick.’ He reached out his hand and shook mine.
Chapter 12
I thought I might pass out. The foyer started to spin.
‘Well,’ Nick said as we waited for the lift.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and let the wave of dizziness pass over me. When I opened my eyes, it hadn’t been a trick of the light; it wasn’t someone who looked liked him. It was him. Naked Nick from Fiji.
His suit was impeccable, starched and sitting perfectly against his broad shoulders. His dark blond hair was wavy, and sat naturally to the side, with a hint of product, but not too much – he looked entirely handsome and I could see the receptionists staring across at him, coyly batting their eyelashes. Those chocolate eyes. Perfectly tanned skin. Square jaw. His hair was slightly longer, and he smelt like leather and coconuts instead of mint – was that a new aftershave?
‘W- well,’ I stammered, waiting for the lift doors to open.
‘This is a—’ Nick started.
At the same time I said, ‘This doesn’t—’
‘Ladies first,’ he said as the lift arrived.
I walked in and furtively glanced at myself in the mirror. My hair was half behaving, so I pushed it down, and punched level 29.
I’ve seen his penis, I thought, covered in suds. I immediately shook the thought out of my head.
‘You were saying?’ Nick asked as the lift doors closed.
Neither of us were looking at each other. In fact, we were facing the large silver doors as if they were a massive TV, playing something interesting.
Still staring at the silver doors, I said, ‘So this doesn’t look like a country cottage with chickens.’
He gave me a strange look. ‘I believe most people call this a lift.’
I gave a little laugh, which sounded like a dog choking on something. ‘We talked about country cottages. And veggie gardens.’
‘I remember.’
‘Fresh herbs. A kitchen so large you could cook a feast.’ I couldn’t stop talking. ‘Dance in it. A kitchen island that doubled as a podium.’
Stop talking.
He looked at me strangely. ‘I don’t think we mentioned that.’
‘Oh, must just have been me.’ I was making my head spin, flipping back and forth from the lift to our one night in Fiji, from two professional people to two people sudsing each other up in the shower, before – I couldn’t finish the thought. It was horrific. I’d slept with my boss. SLEPT WITH MY BOSS. And in a job where I felt like I am failing.
I thought about spilling it all to him. Before I could say anything else though, the lift door opened, and a woman in a red blouse, black skirt and heels for days walked in, smiled quickly at us both, without seeing us, and pressed level 43.
We rode the rest of the way in complete silence and when the doors opened at level 29, Glenn was waiting impatiently.
‘Thanks, um …’ Glenn looked at me with his mouth open.
‘Emma,’ I said.
‘Yes,’ he answered, waving his hand to hurry us up out of the lift. ‘Nick, we’re about to start a divisional meeting, about some, um …’ he looked at me ‘… pressing things.’
Nick said, ‘Lead the way.’
They walked off towards the boardroom at the end of the hall, already deep in hushed conversation.
When Nick turned down the hall, I thought he was turning back to see me and I gave a little wave as if I were seeing someone off at the railway station. He gave a quick nod and walked through the large black doors. And I went into the toilets gasping for air, feeling as though I was about to faint.
I hid in a bathroom stall and sat on the closed toilet lid, thinking I was going to vomit. My head kept spinning. Surely, he was just here temporarily? I’d never thought I’d say this but I’d do anything, anything to get Donna back. Thirty seconds passed. A minute. My heart was still beating out of my chest. I had no doubt that I’d have to leave the bathroom some time today, but I just couldn’t sit at my desk and act normal.
<
br /> What would I say? Hi, Nick, how was the rest of your trip in Fiji? I had a lovely time at that seafood lunch, all by myself. Thanks for giving me the wrong number. Oh, Nick, and by the way, I’m drowning here. Completely overwhelmed. Could you help me out? I groaned inwardly.
Shit. This was bad.
I suddenly had the urge to go home, pack all my stuff, and hightail it to the airport. I’d go back to London. I’d work in that Mexican shack again! Happily! I’d serve up half-stale taco wraps with a smile on my face, anything instead of this.
I found my phone in my pocket and put in an SOS call to Maggie and Tansy, managing, somehow, with shaky fingers, to dial both of them into one conversation.
‘You’ll never believe this. He’s here,’ I whispered through gritted teeth.
‘What?’ Maggie almost shouted down the phone. ‘Why are you whispering? Who’s what, and where?’
‘He’s here,’ I said a bit louder. ‘You’ll have to say it. I can’t talk.’ I tried to check under the stalls for other feet, before I said anything I’d regret.
‘Santa?’ Maggie snorted.
‘No, a little further back. C’mon, Tansy, you wanted me to call him,’ I urged.
‘Oh, God, no. Really?’ Tansy gasped.
‘Yes. Really.’ I nodded my head with wide eyes, even though they couldn’t see it.
‘Who!?’ Maggie shouted.
‘Naked Nick!’ Tansy yelled back.
‘Oh, my God,’ Maggie and I said at the same time. Just hearing his name made me feel faint.
‘What are you going to do?’ Tansy asked.
‘He’s at my workplace, what the hell can I do? Pretend nothing ever happened and that we’ve never met?’
‘Uh oh.’ Maggie exhaled. ‘How does one go from hot shower sex, to professional? You’ve seen his penis! Was it big?’
‘Maggie,’ I groaned, then added, ‘And yes. Rather.’
Maggie hooted with laughter.
‘This is a sign,’ Tansy declared victoriously. ‘He gave you the wrong number, but maybe there’s a valid reason. Maybe he wrote it down wrongly? Maybe you dialed wrongly? Maybe you guys are meant to be together, so the universe literally plonked him in your lap!’
‘Not only that, he’s my new …’ I gulped ‘… boss!’
They both gasped. Someone walked into the bathroom.
‘Gotta go,’ I whispered and hung up the phone, took a deep breath and walked out onto the floor and back to my desk, on high alert for anyone tanned. Nick clearly hadn’t been in an office in a while; he’d held onto that summer glow, and wasn’t like the rest of us with spray tans, but still looking a little office ghostly pale underneath. Summer glow. I remembered his smooth chest, running my hands down his—
Stop, Emma. Just stop.
Phil cornered me in the kitchen at lunch. ‘Spill it.’
‘Spill what?’
‘What’s got you looking like you’re a thousand miles away and then suddenly wanting to upchuck every few seconds?’
‘Have you been watching me?’ I said suspiciously, wondering what I’d looked like as I’d sat at my desk and tried to work, but my mind had been full of Nick. Nick and me pressed against the shower wall. Nick lifting me onto the bed. Nick licking between my breasts.
‘Don’t flatter yourself. You looked like you were going to pass out or throw up all morning.’
‘I’m fine,’ I said quickly, but I could tell he didn’t believe me. ‘And, it’s really nothing at all,’ I said, my eyes scanning the room in case Nick came in. ‘It’s, um …’ I stood and walked to the coffee and tea nook, and Phil followed me.
‘Tea?’ I asked him.
Phil’s eyes suddenly flickered with interest. ‘Oooh, is it a man?’
‘No, as a matter of fact, it isn’t.’ I reached over him and grabbed two bags of sugar, piling them into a mug before adding hot water.
‘Well, it’s something because you just made a cup of tea without the tea.’ He smirked.
‘It’s a new thing I’m trying, like sugar water. It’s new. I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about it.’
‘Sure.’ He didn’t seem convinced in the slightest. ‘So, what do you think about the new guy, Mr Nicholas Taylor?’
‘I think nothing of him.’
‘You must have some thoughts?’
‘It’s only the first day, so I don’t think anything of him yet,’ I said, taking a sip of my hot water, which tasted awfully sweet due to all the sugar I’d dumped in it.
Phil sighed. ‘I think he’s hot.’
‘Of course, you do, you think every guy in here is hot.’
‘Not true. I don’t like Kevin from the copy room. His long greasy black hair doesn’t do anything for anyone. But Nick, he’s like really, really hot. But he doesn’t really know it – which, of course, makes him hotter.’
I threw an empty sugar packet at Phil. ‘Just don’t go flirting with the boss on his first day. Could be career limiting.’
‘Now, are you ready to return to your actual desk?’ Phil asked. ‘I think Nick’s been looking for you.’
‘He has?’ I said in a small voice, and my heart started beating wildly again. I slowly picked up my sugar water, dawdling as long as I could.
‘Chop chop!’ Phil said ‘Otherwise I’m actually going to physically age in here, under these fluorescent lights, and I’ve already spent my entire last salary on my Botox maintenance jabs.’
‘You get Botox?’ I was surprised. Phil looked youthful for his age, which was – actually I didn’t even know how old he was, but I’d guessed he was at least thirty.
‘You don’t?’ Phil seemed even more surprised.
Back at our desks Nick was waiting for us with a look on his face that said he was in some kind of mood. ‘Emma.’
‘Hello, Nick. Hello.’ My knees felt wobbly.
He looked at me strangely.
‘Hello,’ I said again.
Stop saying hello. But my mind was racing, trying to keep calm and appear normal. And hello seemed such a safe word. I was wondering if Nick was feeling as nervous as I was, but he was showing no signs of it. In fact, he kept on talking about work, as though we had actually only just met in the foyer a few hours ago.
‘Emma, we haven’t really had time to go over your event in any detail, like the theme, decorations, media, photographers, but you’ve got it in hand, right?’
Now. Now was my chance to confess everything. Tell him the truth. That I had diddly squat. Less than that. That everyone was going to turn up to an empty hall. Perhaps a good reminder of what death might be like – empty and black. God, how bleak! I hesitated for a second. This was the ultimate chance to tell him, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
‘Emma?’
I noticed Phil was listening, and so was Daisy from accounts and Karen from business development who had chosen this moment to walk past and was hovering, deliberately trying to overhear. Since everyone knew that the new girl was looking after the charity event, the entire company had become quite intrigued. If I told Nick the truth now, the gossip mill would be in full force, and the entire company would know within the next hour that we were in a bit of trouble. No, I’d tell Nick later, when he was by himself and I had stopped saying hello repeatedly. I mean, he couldn’t fire someone on his first day, could he?
I hesitated for a second and then realized with half the floor listening in, I had to pretend the event was in perfectly good hands.
‘Everything’s just fine,’ I assured him.
‘Good. Glenn wants the guest list for your event, the seating chart and media campaign as soon as you can. But if you can send it to me first, so I can review it, that would be great.’
While he talked, I found myself discreetly checking out his body. I’d seen under that crisp white shirt. His smooth skin. His broad chest. Heck, I’d seen under those pants. No. Stop it. You cannot be thinking about your boss and his under-pants nakedness.
Nick was looking at me
. ‘Emma. Can you do it?’
‘Sorry, do what?’
‘The guest list, seating chart and confirmed RSVPs.’
‘Yes, I can.’
I was still holding my cup of sugary water.
‘Now?’
I could hear Phil mutter behind me, ‘What’s going on with you, Emma?’
I sat at my desk, face flaming red. Nick was staring strangely at me too.
‘Um, Emma, honey?’ Phil said.
‘Not now, Phil, I’m busy working.’
‘At my desk?’
I looked around. There were photos of Phil’s boyfriend, Adam, Phil’s shiny black diamanté-encrusted mouse, his stack of PR magazines. ‘Yes, so I am. Excuse me.’
I got up, took a step across and sat at my screen, as if nothing had happened at all.
That afternoon, I focused on the seating chart, so Nick and I didn’t have to have another awkward exchange, where I said hello a thousand times. I couldn’t help but pray to the Gods of Everything – particularly the Gods of Regret, Silly Sex and Office Faux Pas – that he was in meetings all day. I needed some time to process that the man I had hot sex with had turned up at my office. But not only that, as my boss.
After three coffees, and two hours of thinking time, I realised I had to be mature about this. And that meant there was only one thing to do. We had to have ‘the talk’. We’d got along so well in Fiji, all it needed was a quick conversation. A ‘how awkward is this?’ five-minute chat, a quick laugh about it, and we’d be fine. We’d be great. After all, we’d had sex. Hot sex. But just sex. It was nothing more than that to him (obviously), and once we had the talk, we’d be fine. Fine. Given his number was disconnected, that meant he had no idea I’d texted him about the seafood lunch. It meant he had no idea I’d got dressed up and waited at Freshwaters. I would never mention those things. I’d forget all about everything. But the other part of the talk was what was making me sweat like a criminal about to take a lie detector. I had to tell him that we didn’t have a theme, and more than that, that I was drowning in work and needed help. And I should probably be completely honest and tell him that I’d fudged my CV a little, because I may as well rip the band aid completely off and start with a clean slate.
Just As You Are Page 10