‘You cooking me dinner,’ Chloe told him.
He held her away then, looking at her, taking her all in, so beautiful bundled up in every item of clothing and all the layers he had to offer.
‘Really?’ he asked her.
‘Really,’ she replied. ‘I want to meet your family.’
Family. Yes, it was. Unpredictable, a little scary, but real life. And undeniably a part of him he had now shared with someone he was starting to care so deeply about.
55
CHLOE’S APARTMENT, REYKJAVIK
Chloe woke up with a start. Her laptop was making noises as if she had set an alarm. She definitely hadn’t and, looking at her watch, she saw that the time was 9a.m. Not super early but she really should have been awake before now. She slid from her bed and padded to her laptop on the table, lifting the lid. Shit! It was Zoom and it was Michelle. Impromptu Zooms were never good.
‘What’s going on?’ Kat groaned, rousing too.
‘It’s OK,’ Chloe said. ‘Go back to sleep. It’s Michelle.’
‘Is she in labour?’
Oh, God, she couldn’t be. Could she? Her boss did do some unusual stuff when she was stressed or hyper or both but not usually unscheduled Zoom calls. However, no matter what it was, she had to answer. She teased her hair behind her ears, hoped she didn’t have sleep drool around her mouth, switched the lamp on and then pressed to connect.
‘Hello, Michelle. Is everything OK?’
‘Chloe Bellamy, everyone. Everyone, this is my right-hand woman, Chloe, who is currently working on a very auspicious event we are undertaking for a global brand.’
Chloe looked at the screen where her face was now inside a box. The absolute normal for Zoom, but the fact there were at least ten other faces in ten other boxes was not at all what she was expecting. How was she part of such a large meeting she knew nothing about and why had Michelle given her no warning? She was dressed in pyjamas that said, ‘Dear Santa, Define Good.’ She side-eyed the sofa to see if there was anything that could cover up her top. ‘Hello, everyone.’
‘Chloe, could you take us through the top tier wins we’ve had over the past year,’ Michelle instructed.
Top tier wins. OK, she could guess at what that meant but she had never heard Michelle use the expression before. Did she mean the events that had gone the best? The most high-profile clients? The ones that had made the most profit? Right now she felt like she’d been woken up by Lord Sugar and was having to write a business plan on the spot in front of an audience she didn’t even know. Who were these people?
‘Chloe, did we lose connection? Is your mic turned off?’
And apparently Michelle was expecting instant answers and giving her no time to think. Well, thinking on her feet was what she had to do.
‘Vixen Shoes,’ Chloe said confidently. ‘We choreographed their entire brand launch party. They wanted to showcase and sell the product whilst celebrating the conception at the same time. So we designed a dual-purpose event consisting of a fashion show and auction and then a canapés and cocktails party with everything relating to Vixen, the powerful mythical face at the heart of the brand’s embodiment of female leadership.’
Silence. Blank faces. Did they want her to shut up or carry on?
‘I… er… we’ve worked with a premiership football club,’ Chloe continued. ‘They wanted their board of directors to take part in a boot camp style fun day… and we also took the lead on the engagement party for Riley Stylus. She was in Season Four ofLove For Keeps. No matter who the client is, no matter what they’re celebrating or what specific requirements they have, we deliver an exceptional service each and every time.’
Still no one was speaking. Not even Michelle. Did they want figures? She could give them figures but it would take her a while to find things on her laptop; she couldn’t just conjure up a spreadsheet in two seconds. And then someone did speak. It was a man’s voice coming out over Zoom and Chloe chilled right down to the bone, colder than she had ever been before. He wasn’t speaking English. And, although she didn’t categorically know what language he was talking in, she could make a reasonably accurate guess by how it sounded. Icelandic.
The man with grey hair said his sentence for a third time and Chloe knew she had to do something, say something before the game was up.
Suddenly her phone lit up. A text message. Kat. Chloe looked over her shoulder and her friend was sat up in bed, phone in hand, giving Chloe the large eyes that said this was a message she really needed to read.
We can use AI. Chat GPT
Could they? Should they? Why was she even thinking about this? She should just tell the truth, right?
‘Chloe? Are you still there? Or are you frozen?’
Michelle was waiting for her response more than the probably Icelandic man.
Another text from Kat.
