I fall asleep that night with shame and a stomach full of betrayal and deep, wretched embarrassment.
I hate you, James Gloatman!
Chapter Twenty-Three
The office looks and smells exactly the way I remember it. It’s clean. Bright. The waft of coffee is heavy in the air. How can it be only a week since I was here last? And why does it feel like this place is so foreign to me now? I blinker myself as I stroll through the central area where the customer service reps usually sit. They won’t be here for a few more hours. The glass walls between us are too revealing. It feels dangerous. I want to hovel away somewhere. Out of sight. In a small, dark den. I don’t feel like being approachable and available today.
Admittedly, I came in later than I usually would. If I arrived too early, then I might find myself alone with James again. And I hated the way my body responded to that. It felt good. And horrible. I can’t handle this chaotic pile of emotions today.
But obviously, I couldn’t be late. Mum was right. I can’t give up just yet. I can’t let it all go after one bad week. What if I’ve got the wrong end of the stick about the notes?
All the hard work. Six years of slaving away out of hours. All those weekends I’ll never see again. And for what? To throw it away because I had a fling with a colleague. Oh god, is that what I’m calling it now? Was it a fling?
Me, Felicity Rainer, having a fling. It’s preposterous.
So, here I am, at quarter to eight, in my bright blue dress and fun shoes, staring at my screen as it comes to life. None of my team have arrived yet. They don’t need to be here until nine. And even then, I try to be relaxed about when they arrive and leave, as long as they do their hours.
I don’t need to look to know when James arrives. His team are all in early, keen to get on the phone to make sales as soon as they can. They chant and joke as he comes in. He replies with good-natured quips. My heart rate increases, my palms feel clammy when I hear his voice. I can’t move. I’m sat statue still in my chair as I watch over one hundred emails pour in as it loads. I sigh, tapping my fingers restlessly. The sales team settle down and I pray this means James has too.
Gemma arrives with a Starbucks coffee for me. “Thank you,” I say with surprise as she sits at her desk. The gesture relaxes me a bit. So, they don’t hate me then like James alluded to early on in the trip?
“What do I owe you?” I ask.
“No, nothing. We missed you.” She smiles, looking across at the few who have poured in after her, setting their water bottles, notepads and bags down by their desks. Then she gives me a conspiratorial grin. “Did youreallyhave to camp with Gloatman?”
I feel his name in my gut. I panic. Look around. I catch the back of his head in the sales den. His hair is perfectly gelled again, the sight of it almost breaks my heart. What did I expect? Of course, he’s back to his usual self. He was hardly going to come into the office in his hiking gear stinking of pine and mud.
“Who told you?” I say.
She shrugs. “There were whisperings about what Michael had planned for you both. I think it was Millie who spilt the beans.”
I nod. “Well, that makes sense, I suppose.”
I don’t like being the topic of gossip. I picture the whole team huddled together, placing bets on who was more likely to succeed. Little did I know it wasn’t even a competition. Nothing about last week was mine for the taking. It was all for James’.
I feel fleeced, cheated and robbed of something I’ve worked exhaustively for over the past six years. I’m angry. Though I’ve adopted a calm composure… for now.
Once my team have all arrived, I call a meeting to see how they’re getting on. My emails are utter chaos. So, instead of wading through them, I sit and listen. I’m taken through all that was achieved in my absence.
“We finished your list,” Gemma says proudly. “Dylan and Mo sorted the campaign for the August event. We’ve got the ticket sales set up on the website. The radio advert has been recorded and it’s just going through their internal approvals system,” she rattles on.
Gemma even attended some of the meetings I should’ve gone to, taking notes and providing me with a full rundown of decisions made. I can feel my heart beating slowly. It’s adjusting to the truth James already knew. The one he told me about always being replaceable. It’s true. They don’t need me. In my absence everything was fine, it all ran smoothly.
It takes all my effort not to burst into tears right in front of everyone. I subtly take a deep breath of air, biting the inside of my cheek. They carry on sharing details about the week and the challenges they faced but ultimately overcame. Problems I’d usually take the brunt of. The ones they’d knock on my door and ask for help with, or for me to intervene. Not this time. They didn’t need me. They forged on bravely.
They’re so proud of themselves. I can’t help but smile despite the sadness swelling inside of me. All the effort. All the pain and long hours. All the times I arrived before everyone else. None of it was really necessary. I’ve burnt myself out, like a charred, exhausted piece of kindling. And now, maybe, I’m no use to anyone. I need to find somewhere to be alone for a moment. I need to reset. I need to strengthen my façade.
But it’s not possible.
When I check the clock, I see it’s nearly nine thirty. Time for the Monday morning heads-of-department meeting. With five minutes to go, I’d usually be in there already, clicking my pen impatiently.
This time, however, I go back to my desk first. I select all unread emails and click delete. “Gemma, if anyone asks, I’ve deleted any emails I’ve received in the past week. I’m not reading all one hundred and fifty of them. If they’re important, they’ll send them again.”
She seems to find this hilarious, cackling away. “Go you! I might do that from now on if someone emails me at the weekend.”
I lift my eyebrows, realising she means me. Her cheeks colour slightly, and I think she notices her mistake, but we both laugh at the same time because life is too short. And the world outside of these walls is so very big.
I’m three minutes late to the meeting. Rajesh is just opening the door. Mel has taken my seat near the head of the table opposite James, who is watching me seriously, a notch formed deeply between his brows. Thankfully, Fiona is between us, and as my seat is on the same side as his, I don’t have to stare at him the whole time.
