‘What was that?’ he asks, still recovering from the sudden interruption.
‘A timer. Must have accidentally had it set or something.’
It’s a feeble excuse, but less pathetic than the truth and a perfect distraction from whateverthatjust was. I unlock my phone and take a quick peek. . . Three and a half hours is up and still no message from Benji. I look at the chat, in case there was a message that didn’t pop up on the home screen. Nothing. Not a thing this whole entire time.
‘So, what next?’ Aiden asks.
‘Lunch?’ I say.
I don’t know what just happened between us, but I’m attributing it to adrenaline and the lack of food, so an overpriced hot dog has never been more alluring.
‘Works for me– I’m buying,’ he says jokingly, wiggling Evie’s company card as we make our way towards the closest kiosk.
He carries on as normal and I try to follow his lead.
This is Aiden. Aiden Edwards. The Primary School Prick.
I check my phone as he orders us both jumbo hot dogs with extra fries.
Still nothing from Benji.
Nudge 23
The Messages
‘Did you get my email?’
‘Which one?’
‘The diary request for next week.’ Pippa sounds annoyingly chipper even with the shoddy call signal.
I flick through to my inbox. There in blue sits an unopened email from three minutes ago.
Diary Request
Title: Mads x Pippa :)
Date and Time: Thursday 15th April, 15.00– 16.00
Location: Boardroom, Abbingtorn House
Comments: Empty
‘Yeah, I just got it,’ I say in a tone that I hope readsplease wait more than three minutes before following up.
‘Perf– that works for you, right? I never know any more with how busy you’ve been with Evie,’ she says.
I ignore the passive aggression. ‘Would you mind clarifying what it’s regarding?’
‘Mads x Pippa smiley face’ doesn’t paint the most descriptive picture.
‘I just figured, with how busy you’ve been with this event, I’d book some time for us to catch up and discuss your progress,’ she says innocently.
‘Oh, you’ve rescheduled my appraisal?’ I ask.
Since my last attempt in January, Pippa promised that she’d reschedule asap. Then Evie entered the picture and Pippa’s saltiness rose to levels that could fill an entire ocean, with all my hopes of me ever getting recognition at Abbingtorn sent there to drown.
She coos. ‘Let’s not call it that. There’s no need for us to put labels on it– makes it far too formal.’
