‘Correct, sir.’ Lisa smiles. ‘It’s funny, after he handed in his notice, he seemed to vanish from the face of the earth. My friend Jodie in Legal dated him for a little while. Lord knows what happened to him.’ She turns to me. ‘Do you know whereheis?’
‘Argh!’ I cry to the ceiling, my temper – not helped by the lack of sleep last night – starting to bubble up in my chest. ‘I thought he was here!’ I point at the bald man. ‘Whoareyou?’
‘This is Charles “Chuck” Ellen.’Lisasays.
‘Ellen with an E,’ Fake Chuck says. He points to the picture. ‘That’s Chuck Allen. Allen withanA.’
No.No.NO.
‘How funny!’ Lisa simpers, seeming to find this all genuinely funny. ‘It must be the British accent. I thought you were calling to ask for Chuck Ellen withanE!’
No. No. I cannot have misheard them saying Chuck Ellen instead of Chuck Allen. Nope. After everything, that cannot be what’shappeninghere.
Lisa and new Chuck are chuckling over the confusion. ‘I can still assist with your financial queries?’ Chuck Ellen says, shaking his head like this mistaken identity is the most exciting thing that has happened here in years, which, to be fair, itprobablyis.
I go hot at the realisation that my flight home is in less than twenty-four hours and I have no clue in the world where the real ChuckAllenis.
This cannot behappening!
‘Miss?’ Chuck Ellen says. ‘Shall we go step into my office and we can discuss thoseinvestments?’
I swallow hard, desperately trying to come up with a new option to track down Chuck before Ileave.
‘Miss?’ Chuck Ellen repeats. ‘Yourinvestments?’
‘There are no investments,’ I say, my voice forceful with frustration. ‘There is nomoney.’
‘Excuseme?’
‘I’m not a billionaire! I’m sorry but I lied on the phone so I could get an appointment to see Chuck Allen. I have a letter for him and it’s really reallyimportant.’
‘Not abillionaire?’
A small crowd of besuited people has started to gather at thecommotion.
‘Not even a hundredaire at this point. There isn’t any money!’ I can hear my voice getting higher and higher. Holy crap. How can this day have started off so well and gone downhill this fast? ‘I don’t have any investments to make! I am poor! I work as a fish market assistant. I gut fish and sell the remains to northern people who want to eat the fish flesh. It does notpaywell!’
There’s a shocked silence around the room. It must be the talk of gutting fish. It always makes people a bitqueasy.
‘You have no money?’ Chuck Ellen gasps like he’s never encountered such athing.
‘Argh!’ I yell, burying my head in myhands.
I hear the crowd of people muttering around me. Words like ‘real life poor person’ and ‘maybe call security’. But I can barely pay them attention. All I can think about is the fact that this man is not Chuck Allen and I have no new leads! I have nomoretime!
I had one job! One job and I’ve well and truly messed it up. Shit. I should have found some way to get back to Manhattan yesterday. At least I would have had more time. I rested on my laurels. I didn’tprepare.
‘Nooooo!’ I mutter, plonking down onto the egg seat. ‘Gaaaah!’
‘Is she all right?’ I hearsomeonesay.
‘Is she staging asit-in?’
‘What is she protesting?’ someone else says. ‘They already put in the organic vendingmachine.’
‘I think I recognise her…’ A voicepipesup.
Great. Of course someone recognises me. Neither my hair, nor my accent isdisguised.
