The One Addicted(7)

Arriving at work, I throw my bag on the desk; click my Mac into life and head to the kitchen for a cuppa. I see Jackie on the phone as I pass, and tap her lightly on the shoulder in hello, causing her to spin energetically on her chair and send me a shocked eyebrow raise, quickly followed by a sympathetic frown. I feel bad eavesdropping but her conversation sounds pretty juicy so I flick the kettle on, and wait by the door for it to boil. I can still hear her gossiping at this range, without it being too obvious; I needed someone else’s nonsense to cloud my own crap, to get me through today.

Baby steps, Lu - you can do this.

“I can’t talk… no… I just can’t! Yes. I’ll sort it. Gotta go.”

Someone had riled Jackie – she didn’t usually raise her voice. I hear the phone rock back into its cradle and busy myself adding a Yorkshire teabag to Jackie’s ‘Screw you’ cup - its makes me smile, the first in a while. I’m stirring the brew, as she enters the kitchen, with a reflective beam on her welcoming face.

“Hey! You’re back.”

I hand her a steaming mug of heavily brewed tea that would make a builder proud and clink my own against it, careful not to spill the hot liquid.

“I’m back,” I nod with a light smirk; and I honestly felt like I was back - in the land of the living.

I am back in the secure confines of business, where I am ultimately in control and could put my frustrations to good use and take my mind off The Bastard.

Broken, but still standing.

Hollow, but still breathing.


I spend the next two hours catching up with Jackie about our clients - going through messages, e-mails and arranging appointments. Colin was on a site visit with an existing client to decorate their new extension and Jackie has been busy working her magic with a marketing e-shot, designed for us by Abby, earlier in the month. My superstar assistant had really done her work, trawling through our database and cherry picking our target audience, for both *B2B and *B2C clients. You could cleverly analyse how successful the mailer had been and from the figures she’d flashed in front of me, it had been worth the time and effort – we had several hot new leads to follow and a further three new potential clients.

“Well done, Jack. You’ve done Elysium and me proud, hun.” I watch as she proudly preens under my compliments. “Seriously, I don’t know what I’d have done without you, the past few days.”

“Happy to keep things ticking over, Lucia - honestly. Are you OK?”

I look up at her sharp blue inquisitive eyes and quickly remind myself that whilst lovely, she’s still a member of staff. “Yeah, I’m fine - just had a crappy tummy bug that’s all – couldn’t seem to shift it.” I flounder over the words, hating the fact that it was so easy to lie.

She doesn’t look convinced but thankfully changes the subject. “Well, I’m always here to talk if you need to. Nathan just called by the way. He wanted to tell you he’d meet you at The Ashton in an hour. Hope that’s OK? He’s over-seeing things from here-on out.”

My shoulders relax in relief and I check my watch and chew my lip, nothing like cutting it fine. “Mmm, think I can make it. Are we done here for now?”

“Yep. All done.”

Her cheery infectious smile is warming and I nod, grateful for her efficiency and calming demeanor.

“Fine. If you could confirm with him that I’ll meet him there at 2pm, that would be great.”

“No probs. Oh and these came for you yesterday. I was going to drop them round but thought it best to leave you to recover.”

I watch her retrieve a luxury black velvet box from her desk. The FWC logo, emblazoned across its top and take a deep breath.

WTF?

“Are you OK, Lu?”

I look up into Jackie's concerned eyes. “Yep, I’m fine - thanks for this.

“This is the fifth or is it the sixth one you’ve received now? It’s all very romantic.” Her sigh and ladylike princess spin on her chair would be adorable if I wasn’t so pissed.

“Sixth.”

Why was he sending me more roses? Cock!

“And also these…” she grabs the huge black glass vase on reception console, filled with dozens of white and black calla lilies, the darker version, more deep purple in colour and harsh against the masses of white trumpets. I hadn’t even noticed them as I’d entered. They were bloody gorgeous and very elegant! “They came with this card.”

I slip the card out of the envelope and close my eyes, take a second and open them again to focus on his scrawl; he was nothing if not grand with his gestures.



The Black Calla Lily signifies