“Get it together.” Why was it the one person she’d wanted in so long she couldn’t even remember, had to work for her? Or maybe it didn’t matter. Bullshit. It mattered. What the hell would her brother say? She shuddered. It was better not to think of Simon.
Her intercom buzzed. It was Nancy. “Selena? I’ve just had an email requesting the projections. Are they ready for sending?”
Selena raised her eyes to the ceiling and groaned. She pressed the button to reply. “Give me half an hour.” She took a deep breath and picked up her desk phone.
“Marco? Can you come to my office immediately? Bring David too. I need help to turn something around right away.”
She slammed the receiver down with a curse. This was not her style. Selena Day never asked for help. What was happening to her?
Later that night Dee arrived at Selena’s apartment, laden with wine and tortilla chips.
“What’s the emergency?” Dee asked as she kissed Selena’s cheek at the door.
“I just need an ear,” Selena said, the corners of her mouth turned down.
“You’re in pajamas? At seven o’clock? That’s not like you,” Dee said, giving her friend the once over.
“I feel like shit,” Selena admitted.
“Do you have a cold, or tummy bug?” Dee asked, taking a step backwards.
“Don’t worry, you’re safe,” Selena said. “Unless being a total screw up is contagious.”
Dee laughed. “That is a phrase I would never associate with you.” She took off her coat and moved through to Selena’s kitchen to find two wine glasses. She poured drinks, edged one towards Selena and said, “Okay. Tell me everything.”
Selena opened her mouth and the whole sordid story spilled out. She told Dee about Paris and about being distracted at work.
“I had to call an emergency meeting to get the job done,” Selena said with a pained expression. “The job that I should have whipped into shape myself, in no time. That never happens. I’m worried I’m slipping off course. All because I’m letting some guy get me hot under the collar. It’s pathetic.”
Dee sucked in a breath before answering her friend’s plea for help. “You are so hard on yourself it’s unreal. So you got a little naked with this Nick guy. Great. But you weren’t able to finish all your work on time and you needed help. That’s normal, isn’t it? People do that all the time. Bosses usually delegate the whole lot and are never seen churning the numbers the way you do. Maybe this is a wake-up call. Do you really need to be responsible for absolutely every detail? Surely that’s what staff are for. It’s still your project if you don’t complete every part yourself.”
Selena tried to listen. She let out a long breath and watched her wine swirl around as she made circles with her glass.
“You might be right,” she eventually said. “It just feels awful to give up complete control. Like I’m failing.”
Dee put an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “You need a private life too, honey. In fact a little more private, would help.” She giggled. “I can’t believe you did that at work.”
Selena flushed and laughed, covering her face with one palm. “I know. Imagine if Nancy had walked in. Jesus.”
The two of them laughed. Dee pretended to be Nancy hanging around in the dark room asking to watch, which had Selena bent over laughing and clutching her stomach.
“You know what you should do,” Dee said, excitement shining in her eyes. “You should host a work happy hour sort of thing. You know, at the end of the day, bring in a load of food and drink for everyone. Loosen up a bit. Show them you’re not a corporate robot.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Selena said, turning her head to the side in thought. “That could be fun. Maybe I do need to show them the other side of me.” She stared into space for a moment before turning to Dee and adding, “Maybe being with Nick wouldn’t be the disaster I think it would. Maybe we could keep work and our relationship separate. Hell, I’m the bloody boss, if anyone has a problem with it, then tough. It might be good to be seen chatting with him so that if we do end up together it’s not a total shock.”
Her eyes sparkled with the realization that she really was in charge of her own business. Professionally and between the sheets.
34
“Nick, there are some guys in my flat,” his mother said in rushed tones. “They said they’ll be back tonight if you don’t get in touch with some guy called Simon. What’s going on, son? You’re not in trouble are you? You’ve always been so sensible. Am I in danger?”
Nick bit his lip and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was at his desk. He lowered his head and spoke as quietly into the phone as he could without whispering. “Get them the hell out of there now. Tell them I’ll call Simon.”
“Jesus, Nick. Is this to do with Chris?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m on it, okay? Just get rid of them now, and lock your door.”
He let out a deep sigh. Marnie swiveled round in her chair. “Everything all right Nick?”
“Yeah, just, family.” He rolled his eyes.
“Tell me about it,” Marnie said, mirroring his eye roll. “My family is driving me nuts. My sister’s getting married in two weeks and she’s turned into Bridezilla, freaking out about table decorations and stuff. So, I know how you feel.”
Nick smiled. You have no idea how I feel. I’d have Bridezilla any day, compared to a wanted drug addict brother and being forced to deceive the woman I want to be with.
He sighed. He was stuck between a rock and a Simon-shaped place. He was going to have to toe the line and get this over with before someone got hurt. If he created some convincing files to fob Simon off with, without giving away Selena’s precious Parisian project, then there might still be a way of surviving this.
He clicked ‘new file’ and began searching for images of Parisian women online. He copied and pasted them onto the blank page and typed notes around them, building ideas for a fake new UK line called ‘Ooh la la.’ Oh come on Nick, you can do better than that. That’s too obvious. He deleted it and smoothed his fingers over the light layer of stubble on his chin as he strung words together. ‘Paris Girl’. Too bland. ‘Glamour Madame’ ugh, too much like the name of a brothel. ‘Make it Mademoiselle,’ that was more believable as a title. Shit, maybe he actually should pitch this as a real idea to Selena instead. But then where would that leave Chris? And Mum? Hell, this was one sordid mess. He built up a convincing-looking pitch to fob Simon off. Hopefully, it wouldn’t have too much of a knock-on effect on Selena and the team. After all, their work in France was still safe. It shouldn’t be touched by Simon’s grubby little paws.
It was nearing the end of the day. Nick looked up automatically when he heard the familiar click of Selena’s office door and he watched her stride out with a big grin on her face before announcing to everyone, “Right people. Down tools. We are having a happy hour.”
Confused whispers circulated the office and Selena added, “Seriously. Let’s get drinking.”