He nodded towards the noticeboard behind me. ‘I put up a poster on Monday. Didn’t you see it?’ There was no poster. ‘And I asked Gina to send an email round.’
Gina. Of course. ‘I wasn’t cc’d on the email. And I don’t see any poster.’ I was a little petulant.
He walked over to the noticeboard and came back. ‘I don’t know what happened to the poster, but you don’t think we’d have a team outing without our best worker, do you?’
I beamed at him.
When I told Daniel that night via WhatsApp what Ginahad done, he told me that he’d got an email invite directly from Simon. When he checked, my name was not in the addressee list.
‘I don’t think it was anything to do with Gina, hun,’ he said. I was sure she’d had a hand in it somehow, but at least now I had been personally invited.
The next night, a lot of people were planning to meet up before the gig but I’d decided to wear a knockout skintight gold dress that I’d bought on Shein on a whim some months earlier. I was determined to make an entrance.
And make an entrance I did. They were all hanging out in one of the VIP bars and mostly a little drunk when I got there. The guys wolf whistled and the girls stared. Simon shouted, ‘Here she is,’ as if they had all been waiting for me. ‘Fancy a Negroni, Lulu?’ he asked.
‘Oh God, no, too much alcohol in that for me. I’ll have a dry white wine, please.’
Gina turned to me. ‘You look absolutely stunning, Lucy.’ I wasn’t sure what to say. And then she introduced me to the guy beside her. ‘Have you met my boyfriend, Romero? Simon had a spare ticket and said I could bring him.’
I was surprised. ‘Nice to meet you,’ I said, and indeed, Romero was the most handsome man in the room. I immediately felt warm towards Gina. I had misjudged her. We chatted for a while before going into the auditorium. I swapped places with Gina and Romero to sit beside Simon. I tried to be subtle.
The concert was great. I knew Billie Eilish’s music well because my dad liked her too and played her stuff on Spotify regularly when he was cooking. Mum preferred old-fashioned stuff like Christina Aguilera, who was probably as old as she was. I stood and danced for most of the gig, like everyone else. Simon stayed seated but I could feel his eyes on me. Daniel was in the row below me. I twirled him from above and he blew kisses atsome friends on the other side of the arena. Simon didn’t dance with me. But he didn’t dance with anyone else either.
At the end of the night, we all dispersed quickly. There were few taxis outside. There was news of some riot or protest on the other side of the city. People called their friends or their parents to come pick them up. Simon grabbed me around the waist. ‘Want to come to my apartment and call a taxi from there?’ I did not need to be asked twice. We snuck off into the night and ten minutes later I was in his apartment. It was opulent and very male. The sofas were pale grey velvet, the artwork was slick, black-and-white photography of bullfighting, wild horses on a mountainside, a raging Atlantic Ocean. The lighting was recessed. I would bet that no child had ever been in that apartment. There were no signs of his wife either, apart from a chic jacket hanging on a peg in the hall. This was Simon’s domain. ‘Will you have a glass of wine?’ he said, already popping the cork.
‘Sure, but I should call a taxi,’ I said. It was all a bit too real now. Simon was married. I was in his apartment. Adanna, his pregnant wife, was probably home alone. He was much older than me. I needed to put the brakes on.
‘I’ve already called one on the app,’ he said. Had he? ‘Come here,’ he said. ‘I want to show you something.’
I followed him down the corridor into another room, the bedroom. I stopped at the door. ‘Simon …’
‘Don’t be daft,’ he said and pulled back the curtains to reveal a deck with a telescope under an awning. ‘Want to see the moon?’ He slid back the glass door, and we were outside in the cool night air. He positioned himself behind me while he adjusted the eye piece. I could feel the heat from his body. I had never felt such pure lust. I turned to face him, looked into his eyes and kissed him on the lips.
He immediately stepped back. ‘Lucy, I think maybe you’vehad too much to drink.’ His phone beeped in his pocket. ‘And that will be your taxi. You’d better go.’
I didn’t say anything as he bundled me out of the door and walked me to the lift. ‘Sleep it off. You’ll feel better in the morning.’
I cried in the taxi all the way home. How had I misjudged this whole situation? He thought I was a good worker. Yes, he liked me, but not romantically. I was way too young for him. I was mortified by the way I had danced around him earlier. He had implied that I was drunk, but I wasn’t. I’d only had two drinks at the gig and one that he’d poured for me. If anything, he was the drunk one – or was he? I couldn’t tell how much he’d had to drink.
I woke up in the horrors on Saturday morning and stayed in my room for the whole weekend, dreading what would happen on Monday morning. Mum offered me food from time to time, but I couldn’t face her or anyone. I told her I had a cold and only ventured to the kitchen after she’d gone to bed or when she went out. Would Simon tell anyone? Had anyone from the office seen us slipping away together? What kind of reputation did I have now? Would he move me from his team? I couldn’t bear to wait until Monday. I had to nip this in the bud. I sent an email. I would pretend I had been drunk. I needed to write in a formal style – he needed to know I was taking this seriously. Other emails between us had started with the wordYo!Not this one.
Dear Simon
I’m sorry about what happened on Friday night. I think I was drunk, and I totally got the wrong impression when you invited me to your apartment to call for a taxi. I amextremely embarrassed and don’t know how I’m going to face you in the morning. Kissing you was wrong.
I apologize wholeheartedly for insulting you, for even thinking that you were the kind of man to cheat on Adanna and jeopardize your relationship with your family. I am so stupid. I’m sure you must think I am pathetic and immature.
Please, please do not let this affect our working relationship. I have enjoyed working for you and with the team and I would hate for that to change. I know that work nights out are mentioned in the HR handbook as an extension of the workplace, and you could probably have me suspended or dismissed for sexual harassment or whatever.
I’m begging you not to do that and I’m also hoping that you won’t tell anyone or escalate this mortifying situation any further.
I am so, so, so sorry. Please forgive me.
Kind regards,
Lucy
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