Allie rose for the hug. The wisps of hair escaping Leila’s hijab tickled her nose, and her floral perfume and the brief press of her soft lips on Allie’s cheek brought a wave of warmth. She’d missed Leila and their quick coffee breaks, hurried lunches, and shared stories of trench warfare at work.
“Work wife,” Leila put her hands on Allie’s shoulders and took a good look at her, “I’ve missed you so much. I now sit next to Justin, who eats tuna-and-onion sandwiches at his desk and uses too much hair oil. Hair oil? Who uses that if they’re under thirty? Now, can we order lunch? I can’t be late back, because—”
Allie held up a hand. “Don’t apologise. Iknowhow it is, remember?”
Leila’s lips twisted. “Of course you do.”
They went to the counter to order then returned to their table.
“You’re looking well.” Leila scanned Allie’s upper body and lingered on her face. “The new haircut suits you. And you’ve got a bit more of a tan. Guess now there’s sunlight in your life.” She tugged at her own long sleeves, settling them more firmly down to her wrists.
“You’re right. Did you know sunlight is warm and lifts your mood? I’d forgotten that until I…” Until she what? “Resigned” was the official word, and that was the agreement she left with—one that would avoid the ignominy of being escorted off the premises. That’s what she’d told Leila: that she’d had it and she was resigning to clear her head. But now, it seemed wrong to continue the fabrication.
“Until you what?” Leila leaned forward. “There’s something you haven’t told me, isn’t there?”
“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” Allie heaved a deep breath. “I didn’t exactly resign from Kirkland. I was given an ultimation: resign or be fired.”
Leila’s eyebrows rose up her forehead as if on strings. “What could you have possibly done to merit that? Whatever it was, I don’t believe it. Even if you committed the cardinal sin and stole a pack of Post-It notes.”
Allie glanced around. Nobody she recognised in the café. “According to my boss, I falsified the Business Activity Statements for a major client to reduce their tax debt. The tax office investigated and recovered the debt. The client said they believed them to be accurate and is blaming Kirkland & Partners.”
Leila’s eyes widened. “No! But you’veneverdone anything like that. You’re straight down the line. I remember you telling me you lost a couple of clients when you wouldn’t help them fudge their returns.”
Allie sat back as the server brought their lunch. She smiled her thanks and picked up her fork to toy with her salad. The way her guts were churning made eating impossible.
Leila took a huge bite of her chicken wrap. “There’s more to this, isn’t there?”
There was no way she’d be able to eat a bite. She put her fork down. “I didn’t do it. While I’d worked on the client’s file, it was very minor fill-in stuff and nothing to do with their BAS returns.”
“Then who?”
The name sat heavy in her chest. But she had no proof, only a gut certainty of who it was. Who had mainly worked on that file, who had signed off on it…and who was a senior partner, the biggest ol’ boy in the big ol’ boys’ network. She turned the fork over in her hands. “I’m not sure I can tell you. I have no proof.”
“But you are fairly sure, aren’t you?”
She nodded.
“Don’t say it. I can guess. The person who signed off on your work.” Leila set down her wrap. “Did they give you a reference?”
“I didn’t ask. They implied they would, as after all, I’d ‘resigned’. But I had an interview a couple of weeks later, and they all but offered me the job at the time, said they just had to check references. They gave the job to someone else.” The hopelessness of the situation swelled again, sitting heavy in her chest. She’d worked her guts out at Kirkland since qualifying, and this was her reward. Taking the fall for someone simply because she was the expendable one. What was one junior accountant more or less? It fucking sucked, but social media told her it was the way of the working world. The amount of clickbait she’d read since about the world’s worst bosses. Slightly less than the number of best revenge stories she’d consumed.
“My mate’s an employment lawyer. You could talk with him. Or the industrial relations tribunal. Or the newspapers. You can’t just let it go, Allie.”
“I’ll take his number, but I think I need to work out what’s best for me first. I lost a lot of sleep obsessing over it, running through the big denouement scenario in my head, plotting their downfall where I crashed the directors’ meeting and threw proof of my innocence down on the boardroom table.” She snorted. “It was fantastic in my head, but the reality would likely end with me being removed by security, followed by assault charges. It might be best to let it go and move on.”
“I’ll look around. Keep my ears open. I can—”
Allie touched her hand. “I appreciate that more than you know. But please don’t. It would likely end with you being fired as well. You have a family to support. I’m just me.”
For long moments, Leila stared at her, her long-lashed dark eyes damp. “It feels wrong to do nothing.”
“I’m getting over it,” Allie lied. “Please. Just drop it.” She bent her head and stared at the wooden table until she was sure she wouldn’t cry. “Now, tell me what’s new and great in your life?”
“Hammie started school. Big boy school, as he likes to call it, although there are as many girls as boys. But he’s conveniently ignoring that for the moment.”
“You’ll have to stop calling your son Hammie now he’s at school. Muhammad or nothing.”
“Yeah. I give it a week. But right now, that’s still what he calls himself. He’s learning to play soccer. It’s super cute. The kids don’t have actual matches as no one is allowed to lose when you’re five years old.” She snorted. “They save that pleasure for later.”
