Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 202638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1013(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 675(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 202638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1013(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 675(@300wpm)
I particularly like your sign off. Don’t forget it. You always will be. See you at home about 7…ish Jx
I’m well and truly on Central Jesse Cloud Nine. I decide to give Kate a call while I’m taking a few minutes out for lunch.
‘Well, hello!’ she sings down the phone in greeting.
What is she so happy about? Oh God. She’s not been to The Manor again, has she? I won’t ask. I really don’t want to know. ‘Hey, you okay?’
‘It’s all good in the hood! How’s my favourite boyfriend to a friend?’ She laughs.
‘He’s fine.’ I answer dryly. She only loves him so much because he bought her Margo Junior.
‘Listen, I’m on my way to Brighton to drop a cake off in Margo Junior. Do you want to do lunch on Thursday? I’m a bit hectic tomorrow. I’ve got stacks to catch up on.’
‘Being distracted, are we?’
‘Fun!’ she snaps. ‘Do you want to do lunch or not?’
‘All right!’ I blurt. Her oversensitivity on this matter is making me super suspicious. ‘Thursday, one o’clock at Baroque.’ I confirm.
‘Perfect!’ She hangs up.
Blimey, I think I just hit a nerve. Fun my arse! She’s skirting around this and brushing it off far too hastily. I want to know what’s going on, but I’m making it a point not to ask in future. What’s she up to?
I hear the door of the office open and look up to see Tom arriving. ‘Tom, we need to have a word about your attire!’
He looks down at his emerald green dress shirt with bright pink tie. Colour clash in Tom’s world is highly offensive. ‘Fabulous, isn’t it?’ He strokes his tie.
No, it’s not. It’s highly unpleasant, in fact. I know that if I was looking for an interior designer and Tom turned up on my doorstep, I would shut the door in his face. ‘Where’s Victoria?’ I ask.
‘Appointment in Kensington.’ He throws his man-bag on his desk and takes his glasses off to clean them on the tail of his shirt.
‘Did you find out what happened?’ I press.
‘No!’ He slumps into his chair. ‘She moped and sulked all day.’ He leans forward and scans the office. ‘Hey, what do you make of our Sal?’
Oh, he’s noticed. It’s hard not to. ‘She had a date.’ I whisper loudly.
He puts his glasses back on in a dramatic gesture that suggests he needs to see my face given the news. It’s ridiculous. They’re a fashion statement and Tom’s attempt to appear professional. Professional? He should lose the shirt and tie combo. It’s making me squint.
‘No!’ he gasps.
‘Yes! And a second date tonight.’ I nod.
His eyes bulge again. ‘Can you imagine how boring he is?’
I recoil, suddenly feeling extremely guilty for engaging him in such a conversation. ‘Don’t be a bitch, Tom.’ I scorn.
Sally walks through the office, stopping our gossip dead in its tracks. Tom raises his eyebrows and grins as he follows her path to the photocopier. If I was close enough, I would kick him.
He turns back to me, catching my disapproving expression and holds his hands up. ‘What?’ he mouths.
I shake my head and return to my computer, but my peace is short lived.
‘So,’ Tom calls from his desk. ‘Victoria tells me you’ve moved in with Mr Ward.’
I look up from my screen in shock and see him casually flicking through a catalogue. How does she know? Of course…Drew. He and Victoria were together on Friday night, but what has happened since then to put her in such a foul mood? I don’t want to engage in this conversation. Tom thrives on drama, and my life is really quite a drama at the moment.
‘I’ve not moved in with him, and I need you to be quiet, Tom.’ I carry on deleting junk emails. He doesn’t take the hint.
‘Fancy that, living in the ten million quid penthouse that you designed.’ he muses thoughtfully, still flicking pages.
‘Shut up, Tom.’ I glare at him when he lifts his eyes from the catalogue he’s not even reading. He takes the hint this time, carrying on about his business.
I don’t know how I’m going to get around this with Patrick. It doesn’t look very good, me dating a client, and all I need is Tom blabbering off in the office for all to hear.
I return my focus to my computer and finish emptying my inbox of junk emails before preparing a payment schedule for Miss Quinn along with some brief ideas.
As five o’clock hits, I sit tapping my pen on my desk, deep in thought, and I have a bloody fantastic thought.
Oh my God I’m amazing! I jump up from my desk and quickly clear it of drawings and files. I grab my bag and flowers and head for the office door. ‘I’m done, see you tomorrow, guys.’ I call, as I all but sprint out of the office. I have half an hour. I can make it.