Under My Skin

by A. E. Dooland

  Jason looked like he was about to explode, and Diane... if looks could kill, she’d have landed a critical hit on me. She staged a short, polite laugh at the very suggestion something was up. “Nothing's wrong,” she said easily. “We were expecting someone different to arrive in time for—”

  I interrupted her. “She couldn't come, which is fantastic,” I flashed a grin at Burov, “for me, at least. It gives me the chance to network with one of the most prestigious diamond brokers on the planet, so it's absolutely my pleasure to fill in for her.”

  Diane's eyes darted over to Burov as she spoke. “And we thank you so much for doing that,” she was as good at ‘pleasant’ as her brother was when she needed to be. “But it's fine, we’ve invited—” She was gesturing at the Sales team when I cut her off again.

  “Much appreciated.” I went back over to the computer and entered my password for the USB before opening up the presentation file. “It's fantastic how supportive this organisation is. You don't need to worry, though, Diane. I'm happy to help.”

  The Sales boys actually looked somewhat amused, and I didn't know why until I realised they were just as entertained by Jason's reaction as I was. No one knew how to handle what I was doing. Ian and Carlos were just sitting up the back, sweating, and Sarah had the biggest smirk. I doubted there was any sort of training on how to handle a Sales heist on a pitch, and everyone had turned to look at Diane as if to say, 'Well, what do we do now?'

  Diane didn't have an answer for them, she just glared at me while she tried to think.

  The multi-billionaire co-CEO of one of the world's richest mining companies was glaring at me. And guess what? I didn't care. I didn't need her approval. “Shall we get started?” I asked brightly.

  “You don't need to worry, Min,” Diane said calmly. “We're all ready. You can just take a seat and let our experienced team of—”

  Burov made a gruff noise. “Let the boy talk,” he told Diane. “He's got spunk. I like that. I was like that when I was his age.”

  I hadn't actually been expecting Burov to side with me, even if I'd heavily researched how to impress him. Hell, I wasn't even sure I'd get away with convincing him that I was a guy. That I'd somehow managed to achieve both of those things in under a minute was fucking incredible.

  Holy fuck, I thought, grinning at everyone. I'm actually getting away with this. I'm using a client to steamroll Jason and Diane, and it's working.

  After a few seconds of revelling in what I'd done, I turned towards the screen, dimming the lights and activating the presentation. “Well, let me tell you exactly why you're going to want our diamonds for your collection, Mr. Burov,” I said loudly and clearly.

  The presentation went well enough, and I certainly knew every inch of the material since I'd supervised the majority of the research and strategy. I didn't skip past the slides with the incorrect Sales figures in them, though, and when they flashed up on the screen I could hear the collective gasp of several Frost employees.

  I didn't shy away from it. “You might notice this figure up here,” I used the laser pointer to indicate it, “is different from the ones in your brochure.” I upped the lights a bit so Burov could refer to his information kit materials. “The figure in the brochure is the one you need to refer to.”

  Burov was nodding. “Why's that number there?” he said, indicating the screen.

  I tried to look charming. “Because it turns out I'm not a great accountant,” I said openly. “But that's okay, because believe me, I know my diamonds. And that's what we're all here for, right? The highest quality, highest clarity diamonds in the world?”

  Burov and his friend shared a knowing glance. I must have looked interested in it, because his friend said something in Russian, and Burov laughed and translated. “He said, 'Sasha is the same as you. He does the diamonds, I do the books'.” Burov sat back in his chair and gestured at me to continue. “Okay. Tell me more about how long I have to wait to get actual pink diamonds from this mine.”

  And that was it. That mistake that Diane had made such a big deal out of: it didn't matter. It was over in twenty seconds, and Burov didn't care. He didn't care about most of the presentation, either, but he did remark on one of the paintings in the background.

  “Where's that?” he asked, interrupting me.

  That was actually something only Sarah and I could answer. I let her, because she hadn't said anything yet, she'd just been sitting up the back with huge smile on her face. “That's from right up close to where you're getting the actual diamonds from,” she told him. “When you sign this contract, we'd love to take you on a tour of the location. There's some spectacular scenery out there.” As Burov looked appreciatively at the painting, Sarah added, “Min did a pretty good job of capturing it, didn't he?”

  She looked smug about dobbing me in. I wouldn't have said anything about it myself.

  Burov took a closer look at the painting. “You did that?” I nodded and pretended to dust off my shoulders. He responded to that, turning to look at both Diane and Jason. “Where did you find this guy?” he asked them sociably. “He must make a fortune for you. I want one for my business.”

  Jason was seething at me. “How do you feel about just taking that one?”

  Burov understood him literally, and sounded interested. “He'll be the one giving me sales support if I sign?”

  I looked pointedly at Jason and Diane. Both of them were trying not to appear angry, and it was beautiful. “Diane? Jason? Will I be the guy giving him sales support?”

  “We can discuss that once the contract is signed,” Diane said diplomatically. “Those smaller details are by negotiation, but we're certainly happy to consider accommodating all your requests.”

  Burov and his friend shared a brief exchange in Russian while the rest of us just stood there and waited. The Sales boys couldn't have looked any more entertained than if they were sitting in the front row munching popcorn. Since they had nothing else to do, they'd been very surreptitiously texting people under the table throughout the presentation, and while Burov was busy I saw one of them take a cheeky photo of Jason. Neither he nor Diane noticed, but I had a feeling that photo was going to circulate Sales and Marketing within the hour. They took one of me standing up the front, too, and I smiled for it. I hope they emailed those two photos together.

  While I was watching them, Burov said something to his assistant who hurriedly reached into her briefcase and passed Burov a bulldog-clipped stack of paper. He put it on the table in front of him, taking a pen from his pocket and clicking out the nose of it.

  It took me several seconds to realise that that stack of papers was the contract. The contract that had been the centre of my world for nearly two months. My heart was racing as the nib of the pen descended to it.

  “I think I've seen enough,” Burov said, sounding satisfied. “I like these diamonds and I like how you do business. I like a good excuse to come to Australia, too.” He laughed. “We can work together.”

  All our eyes were glued to the dotted line and everything was dead silent as he signed on it. You could even hear the scratch of the pen on the paper. When it was done, he closed the document and pushed it across the table to Jason.

  Jason took it, too stunned by the suddenness to remember to be angry at me. “It's great to have you on board,” he said automatically to Burov, and then looked at me with an expression that said what?

  I grinned. I grinned directly at him. Fuck you, I thought, enunciating each syllable in my head. Fuck you, Jason. Fuck you, fuck Diane and especially fuck Sean. Fuck all of you, and fuck your toxic bullshit workplace. I'm not nothing. I'm something. I have skills and talents and value and look at what I just did.

  Look at what you're losing, Jason. Sit down there and look up at the person you've been calling a fuck-up.

  He knew what I was thinking, but there was nothing he could do. It was over.

  The rest of the team, all their eyes were on me. And in all of them, every single one,
I could see something I never dared to hope for after everything that had happened: respect. I was up here dressed like a guy and it didn’t matter. Every single one of those people was just in awe of me. And I deserved it.

  Dreams were made of moments like this.

  Burov clapped the table with his hands, missing all of this. “Tell me you people have a yacht,” he said. “Let's hire a yacht. I want to see this city.”

  Burov had more to discuss with Jason and Diane, and as much as they kept glancing at me, they were stuck in conversation with him. The Sales boys didn't know me well enough to say anything about what I'd just done, but Sarah, Ian and Carlos did. Sarah practically danced over.

  “You look great,” she said, “and that was incredible. I was ready to give you a standing ovation when Burov passed the contract to Jason!”

  Both Carlos and Ian looked like they'd run a marathon. “You scared the hell out of me,” Ian said quietly. “I was thinking, 'there goes my performance bonus'. I can't believe you did that.” He stole a quick glance at Diane and Jason. “You know they're going to fire you anyway, right?”

  I shrugged. “They were going to before I came in.”

  Sarah leant in. “Min made a formal complaint about Jason because of...” She gestured at my suit.

  Ian and Carlos both looked scandalised. “You complained about him?” Carlos asked for confirmation. “Wow, I've wanted to do that for years, but I never had the guts.” He watched me for a moment, considering that.

  I think he was about to say something else, but he never got the chance to. Over everyone's shoulders, Burov and Diane looked like they were winding up their little talk and I did not want to be around to take a dressing down from anyone. Not while I felt on top of the fucking world.

  “I have to go,” I told the three of them.

  They all glanced behind them at where I was looking. “Are you coming back?” Ian asked. “I mean, assuming they let you in the building.”

  “Dude, she just single-handedly sold a multi-million dollar contract,” Sarah told him. “I'm sure they'll let her in.” She paused, squinting. “Erm, 'him' in?”

  I didn't have an answer for Ian, and the pronoun question was too big to answer right now. “I don't know,” I said to them both, starting to walk towards the door. “I'll think about coming in, I guess, but right now I think it's time for me to make a quick exit.”

  Burov actually called out to me as I left, but I pretended not to hear. I closed the door behind me and stood there for a minute to just absorb what I'd done.

  I just fucked over Jason and Diane. Like, actually fucked them over. A CEO and a senior manager had been in there, and I'd well and truly rolled them. Wow. When I'd decided I was going to take over the pitch, I'd never dreamed it would go so smoothly. But it had, and everything was awesome, and fuck, Diane and Jason's expressions! A lot of how well that had just gone could be chalked up to good luck, I'd admit that. What I was happiest about couldn't, though.

  It wasn't luck I'd put on a suit and come into work today. It wasn't luck that I'd held my head high and marched in there and taken a giant risk. None of that was luck. I'd done that. Quiet, shy, obedient Min Lee had said fuck it all and walked in there, and, not knowing how it was going to turn out, had done it all anyway.

  And nothing, nothing can describe how that felt. I was so proud of myself. I was so, so proud of myself.

  My feet hardly touched the fucking floor on the way to the lifts, I was on cloud nine. I had no idea what I was going to do now, but it didn't matter. I could go shopping for some new clothes, or I could go have lunch by the harbour, or I could just do a victory lap of Sydney and feel people looking at me and enjoy not worrying about it.

  I'd stepped into the lift with a couple of other people and had pressed 'G', when the doors of the lift on the opposite side opened.

  Sean Frost was standing in it, and he spotted me immediately. His usual easy smile was absent, and when I glanced at my phone to check the time—10:35am—I realised he was too early for an 11am pitch. That meant that he'd figured out I'd lied to him, and he'd come to try and crash the party. You're too late, Sean, I thought indulgently. Looks like Diane's building that mine you don't want after all.

  As my doors slid shut, I gave him a little wave and a big, bright smile.

  His expression. God, it was too much. Suck it, I thought as the lift began its descent, and laughed to myself despite the fact I was sharing the lift with several other employees. In the mirrors, I could see them all trying to avoid eye-contact and smother grins. I didn't try and hide mine. I just stood there with it across my face for the rest of the lift ride.

  The clouds had parted by the time I walked out of Frost HQ, revealing a beautiful sunny day. I didn't want to go home for once. I wanted to be out in it, and I couldn't imagine how the day could get any better until I heard a stunned voice behind me.

  “Min?”

  Bree...? Bree was waiting for me already? I turned towards her voice, spotting her on the shallow staircase outside the building. She'd been sitting on one of the stairs, I think, but when she'd seen me, she'd stood up. She was gaping, too.

  Her eyes were a bit puffy, but she wasn't crying now, not at all. In fact, a big smile was growing on her face, and that was way better. Especially knowing I'd caused it. “Whoa,” she said as she came over to me, disregarding whatever had upset her as she looked me up and down. “Yeah!”

  Her timing couldn't have been any fucking better. I was really glad to see her, and because I was still high on rolling Sean, Diane and Jason and everything was fucking awesome, I grabbed her, pulled her up to me and kissed her right in the middle of fucking George Street. I shouldn’t have because of Henry, I probably shouldn’t have because of a lot of reasons. But holding her just felt so good, and it had been so long since I’d felt like this. I wanted to enjoy that feeling.

  After a few seconds she pulled away, though. “I'm really sorry,” she said, as if she was desperate to get that in. “When Andrej was like, whacking your door, I didn't—”

  I shushed her. “I’ve had the most amazing morning. I don’t care about what happened last—”

  “—But you don’t understand!” she said, interrupting me. “I couldn't sleep all night because I’m so sorry, it’s so fucked up that you got dragged into all of my shit and it’s all my fault that he took your—”

  “Bree,” I said, gripping her shoulders. After nearly killing myself, the last thing I cared about was stuff. “It’s okay. It’s really okay. I just took a big risk at work, it paid off big time, and right now I don’t care about anything.” I smiled at her. “Look! I'm taking the whole day off. If you could do anything right now, what would it be?”

  I think she was expecting me to be more upset about the things Andrej had stolen, and she just blinked at me, taking a few seconds to process my question. When she did, she leant against me. “What if I'm already doing it...?” Almost immediately, though, she stood back and looked downwards, distracted. “Oh my god, you're wearing it, aren't you?” she asked in a strange voice, eyes fixed on the crotch of my pants. Her cheeks were a bit pink, and I knew exactly what she meant.

  She looked up at me, and I nodded.

  She went bright red and dissolved into giggles. “Sorry,” she said after a couple of seconds, trying to compose herself. “Sorry, that's really fucked up of me, of course you're wearing it. I just can't get the image of it out of my head and it's in there. Oh, god. I'm good. I'm totally good.” She tried to be serious for a couple of seconds, and then lost it again.

  I stood there while she giggled helplessly, amused. “Just out of curiosity, how old did you say you were?”

  She smacked my arm. “Oh, shut up! It's hilarious. That thing is enormous.”

  “Thanks,” I said, and winked at her, which made her burst into another fit of nervous giggles.

  She tried to compose herself again, and this time she managed to. “Seriously, though, Min, you look great. That suit is like the s
exiest thing on the planet and your hair looks so cool.” She bounced on her tip-toes, looking hopeful. “Can I...?” She pointed at my head, and I bowed it a little so she could feel my hair and fuzz the shaved sides with her fingertips. I liked how it felt, and so did she, apparently. “What made you flip and do it, after all that?” She looked a little worried. “It wasn’t because you were angry, was it?” The implication was ‘with me’.

  I didn't want to go into details of last night with her right now. I didn't want to ruin my mood. I'd tell her the full story eventually, but right now the best answer was, “No, I wasn’t angry with you. I'd had enough of everything, especially Frost. I'm quitting.” I stood back up, looking at the building behind me. “Fuck this place. Let's go celebrate my freedom with the rest of my money before I'm flat broke.”

  “You want to spend some money?” she asked. “We can go have lunch at that place I dragged you to the first time. Oh my god, I love that place. I'm salivating just thinking about it. It can be like our Last Supper or something.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I said 'spend' not 'waste',” I told her, but she'd already taken my hand and was towing me along the footpath. “You're hopeless.”

  “I know,” she said over her shoulder. “But can you think of a better way to celebrate? You can tell me all about that thing you said you did today and what happened to your hair and we can look across the harbour, eat stupidly expensive food and have well-paid waitresses call us 'madam' and 'sir' and show us wine lists and we can pretend we actually have any idea what all of the names and years mean.”

  I did have some idea what the names and years meant, but she had a point. It was a nice place, and I did want to celebrate. “Okay,” I said simply.

  She actually stopped pulling me along. “Like, 'okay, yeah, let's do it'?” she asked for clarification. I nodded, and her eyebrows went up. “Huh,” she said. “Well, I guess it's lucky I don't need to steal your bag this time, because you don't have one.”