Humphrey was still gushing. ‘How lucky we are to have found you at last,’ he said. ‘Theright chapfor the job. I think we can safely say that we’d like to go ahead with some version of this, subject to agreeing schedules, budgets and so forth. Abraham, bravo for bringing him in.’
Isaac started, remembering after a few seconds that Humphrey meant him. He grinned to cover his delayed reaction and said, ‘We’re certainly happy to have him as part of our London team, Sir Humphrey, and I’m thrilled we’re going to be continuing our work with you.’
Greg shot Rachel a wide-eyed, remorseful look. She knew he was galled by Humphrey’s ignorance, but understood that as client services director he couldn’t see the benefit in arguing. After all, they’d just won their pitch.
She shut her eyes as a familiar heat behind them warned her that angry tears were forming. Clearly her annoyance wanted expression – and crying was apparently its preferred medium, since ranting at her client and colleagues wasn’t an option.
‘I must protest, if I may.’ Rachel started as a hand settled on her left shoulder. Jack’s voice was careful and affable, his charm dialled up as high as it would go. ‘We’re forgetting Rachel in all our excitement. The focus on people rather than objects was her idea, originally –stories, not stuff, as she puts it. It’s her we should be praising for the fundamentals of this new plan, which I couldn’t have come up with alone.’
Rachel felt her mouth fall open and Isaac dropped his fountain pen on the floor with a dull thud. Greg’s eyebrows quirked up, powered by some combination of disbelief and approval.
Humphrey harrumphed and hawed, then said, ‘Of course. Mustn’t overlook the lovely lady. Marvellous work, my dear.’
It was hardly an in-depth review, but it was some acknowledgement of Rachel’s efforts and she was glad he’d been forced to make it.
Jack’s hand fell away from her and she turned to him with a small smile. He nodded slightly – a gesture that saidWe’re on the same side. Their eyes met, candid and careless, for the first time all morning, and something cracked inside her, a shell suddenly threatening to shatter completely.
Jack turned back to Humphrey and Rachel started breathing again. There was more hand-shaking, promises that a timeline, staff plans and costings would be worked up and sent over, and then the R/C team was outside again, gathered on the pavement debating the best way to get back to Islington.
‘Drinks later,’ Isaac announced as they folded themselves into an Uber. ‘Absolutely no excuses. This is a huge win for us – a glass of something fizzy is mandatory after work tonight.’
Greg had somehow commandeered the front seat of the cab, while Rachel and Jack were relegated to the back. Isaac was wedged between them, beaming like a child on his way to a seaside holiday.
Jack held up his hands, acquiescing easily. ‘You’ll get no resistance from me. Rachel, you’ll come, won’t you? Greg?’
‘Er …’ Rachel began, ready to protest that her Friday night was already spoken for. But Greg was nodding and smiling, and she wavered; she should join her colleagues for one celebratory tipple, surely?
She resolved to text and tell her friends she’d be late to the Hope, praying that Anna wouldn’t make any assumptions – especially not ones that strayed too close to the truth.
Jack glanced over the top of Isaac’s curly head at Rachel. His eyes were soft again, green and deep and ridiculously lovely, and she couldn’t bear to look at them.
She tore her gaze away and stared out of the taxi window, watching Belgravia flash by as if everything was normal. As if her insides weren’t melting.
At five o’clock Isaac ordered the whole pro-social team to down tools, insisting that everyone traipse around the corner to the Albion Inn for drinks and nibbles. Toby, thrilled with the day’s success, was coming along too. He’d already sent a celebratory email to the whole office, congratulating Rachel and Jack on winning their pitch and extending the invitation to enjoy some free fizz as soon as the working day was over.
The pub was already busy when they arrived, but Isaac had had the foresight to pre-book a large table earlier in the day. Rachel went with a handful of her colleagues to claim it while the others made a beeline for the bar.
She sat down in the centre of a polished wood bench peppered with well-worn squashy cushions and felt Jack squeeze around the table to sit next to her.Shit. She’d hoped he’d go and help carry the drinks so she could blend in with the client and copy juniors, shielding herself from him by sitting in between a few of them.
Before he could speak to her Rachel seized the opportunity to turn away, joining in a conversation about the terrible film she and Anna had recently watched. Apparently they weren’t alone in having hated it.
She was more than halfway down a flute of cava before she finally had to acknowledge that Jack was right beside her. He nudged her gently and said, ‘Is everything okay? Have I done something?’
Rachel took a fortifying slurp of her drink and shook her head. ‘No. Everything’s fine. As fine as itcanbe, I guess, given the inherent weirdness of this whole situation.’ Booze had already loosened her tongue. ‘If anything,’ she sighed, ‘I should probably say thank you. For having my back this morning, I mean – for not letting me be window dressing when I’d actually done half the work.’
‘More than half, I’d say,’ Jack said. ‘And don’t mention it.’
He grabbed an almost-full bottle of cava from one of the silver ice buckets on the table and topped up their glasses.
‘We did well this morning,’ he said. ‘And my suspicion is that Humphrey’s going to quibble over costs, which probably means the likes of you and me are too expensive to stay on this account day-to-day. Here’s to passing him on to some juniors.’
‘God, I’ll drink to that,’ Rachel replied. Jack lifted his glass and she clinked hers against it, relieved at the prospect of moving on to other projects.
‘So,’ Jack said, his face folding in a wolfish grin, ‘are we friends again yet?’
‘No. Maybe …Stop looking at me!’
She buried her face in her hands and he chuckled.
