“Yes,” I shout, my voice sharper than usual.
The door opens, and Jules enters.
“Are you ready for our weekly meeting?” She pauses. “Or we can reschedule?”
I look at my calendar.
It’s our meeting to plan up the following week. I like to be organised, always have done. I may not have control over everything in my life, but within the office, I like to run a tight ship.
“No, it’s fine. Come in, take a seat.”
A frown mars Jule’s brow, but she says nothing.
Pen’s words echo through my mind.
“It’s important you keep up appearances. You don’t want to tip off the mole by changing your routine. At the moment, we have the upper hand.”
I smile, but it’s impossible to miss the look of concern she shoots me. She’s worked for me for years. Is used to my mood changes and is likely more attuned to them than most. I need to give the woman a pay rise!
In true Jules style, she refrains from calling me out on whatever she’s picking up on.
“Sorry, I had a late night,” I say, wanting to offer some excuse for my less than friendly behaviour.
She smiles, her shoulders relaxing.
“Say no more.”
The smile she gives me tells me she thinks I was up latehaving fun.If only she knew.
“Let’s get started,” I say.
We run through the minutes and tasks from last week. We close off completed tasks and reset outstanding ones.
I dictate a couple of memos I want to be sent out and pray I have thrown off whoever is listening.
It seems absurd and a little disconcerting knowing there’s someone out there listening to us. Taking their own notes.
Jules asks her usual questions, and we discuss next week’s planned meetings. When she finally leaves, I sit back. My concentration is shot. I’m getting too old to burn the candle at both ends. Knowing someone is out to get me, take down my company. When Darra finally left, I thought life would become less complicated. I could pick up the pieces of my shattered existence. Live again, but no, instead, I’m now dealing with this.
By midday, I’m done.
I get up and grab my coat.
Opening my door, I head to Jules’ desk.
“I’m heading out.”
She looks up and grins.
“It must have been a good night.”
I groan. “I wish. I spent the night tossing and turning.”
Realising I don’t want her to get the wrong impression.
“She’ll be fine, you know. A summer in Italy will be amazing. She’ll come back with all these stories.”
I take a moment to realise Jules has equated my sleepless night with Lottie being away. I breathe a sigh of relief.
