‘Of course.’
‘Behonest.’
Her gaze is soft– I want to trust her. I feel like Icantrust her, but there’s a niggling at the back of my mind that keeps me quiet. I’m a professional and this is a work lunch with a client. A client I absolutely shouldn’t slate the company she’s working with to.
‘I think you’re underutilised there, from what I’ve observed,’ she says, willingly filling in the blanks that I left with my silence. ‘Would you agree?’
Her fingers trace the rim of her drink as she patiently awaits my response.
‘I definitely have more that I’d like to achieve in my role. That’s why I’m grateful for you letting me lead on the Summer Splash,’ I reply. ‘Hopefully after this, I can take on more responsibility.’
‘That was so diplomatic, I love it,’ she says, giggling. ‘That’s the kind of professionalism I look for on my team.’
I can’t stop myself from smiling at the end of her sentence. Empty comment or not, on some level, Evie thinks that I’d be good enough for her team. But she doesn’t smile back, just keeps looking straight at me, a serious expression on her face.
‘I want you, Maddison. As a part of my team.’
She states it without an ounce of emotion, like she didn’t just drop a chunk of gold into my lap. I grit my teeth in an effort to stop myself from choking on my prawn in shock.
‘I plan to take all my events in-house and I need a head of department,’ she continues.
I probably look constipated, but it’s the only way to stop my jaw from dropping open. A job like that would be everything I’ve wished for and more, headed up by someone who I’ve admired for years.
‘You want me to head your events department?’ I say to clarify.
The words sound absurd. Absolutely unheard of. Who goes from assistant to head of events? Head of Events for Evielution, no less, one ofForbes’ Most Innovative Companies of the last financial year.
‘It’s a big step up from assistant, I know. And I can’t justgiveyou the role– my board of investors would kill me.’ She rolls her eyes at the red tape. ‘But I like what you’re doing with the Summer Splash and I see a lot of potential in you. I’ve been singing your praises to the board and they’ll all be at the event, so if you pull it off in the way I know you can, you could bag that bonusanda new job. That’s if you’re interested at all?’
She continues to swirl her finger round the glass, anxiously watching my reaction. It’s ridiculous to think this is something I’d even waste time considering. There’s only one answer.
‘Oh, I’m interested. Definitely.’ My spluttered reply is met with a smile.
‘Perfect!’ She lifts her glass, prompting me to cheers. ‘Here’s to next steps.’
We clink our drinks, the sound rippling through me and hugging my heart.
Nudge 10
The La La Lounge
When everyone said that the La La Lounge was fancy, they should have been more specific. There’s regular fancy and then there’s the kind of place that shames your bank balance the second you walk through the door. The La La Lounge is the latter, with a smattering of general insecurity thrown in for good measure.
The staff nabbed my tone-lowering parka the moment I stepped through the door. I tried to hang on to it, but they just gave me a pointed look and told me they’d take it to the cloakroom. What they didn’t know, however, is just how naked I feel without it draped around me, so I’ve been cowering in the corner ever since.
Even adorned in the dress of my dreams, I can’t help but feel like I stick out. I don’t have the regular clientele’s faces, or their surgeons, and the heels Anika gave me are several inches taller than what I’m used to walking in. I’m praying that the two warm-up shots I took at home kick in any moment now.
‘There you are,’ Aiden bellows across the room as he strides towards me.
He’s stood tall with a fresh trim, dressed in a simple black suit with dark-grey detailing and a white shirt. The pattern is subtle but catches the light in a way that lets you know he’s not basic. There’s not a crease in sight or an ill-fitted seam, sleeve hugging his forearm as he moves to adjust his cufflink. He looks like someone who belongs on the front of a magazine and I haveto bite the inside of my cheek to stop my jaw from dropping to the floor. I am almost embarrassed, although, judging by his own roaming eyes, I’m not the only one having a problem with staring. He looks me over from top to toe with the kind of intensity that makes me want to shrivel up inside this tiny, shiny sheath of a dress. It lasts a second too long. Long enough for me to catch the shift in his breath, and for him to see me do it.
‘You look like a disco ball,’ he manages to say, regaining composure.
‘And you look like a petrol-soaked penguin,’ I retort.
He chuckles heartily at the comment, shaking his head. Issues aside, game respects game.
‘Evie bought this for me, actually. A couple of years ago,’ he says, throwing in a cheeky little spin for good measure. ‘I used to show up to events in chinos and shirts, and, once the invites got more regular, she decided that wasn’t good enough.’
