“Yeah, okay, okay,” Sarah said, pushing aside all of the paper to get to her keyboard, still smiling ear to ear. “Hah, Rob is going to love you. Is it Friday yet?”
I wasn't looking forward to Friday as much as Sarah was, and so when Friday did roll around, I was too worried we hadn't completed the framework documents to think about much else. Actually, we'd barely even started them. It was only a week into the project and already we were way behind the timelines. I was so worried about it I sought out Jason to have a quick word with him. It was never a pleasant experience; I had to be pretty desperate to bother talking to him.
He listened to my concerns while he tried to pick something out of his perfectly white teeth with a fingernail. “Well, ordinarily I'd give it a few weeks,” he said, giving up on his teeth. “But because you've only got a few weeks for the full project I'd suggest getting your arse into gear. There's probably still enough time.” He pointed his finger at me. “But what's this I hear about you doing Canada's design?”
I made a face. “I promised them I'd do it before I got committed to Pink. I've finished it now, though.”
He didn't look impressed, and that made my heart sink. “I know hard work is kind of an Asian MO, but maybe you'd have finished the docs by now if you focused on the project we actually assigned you to.”
After I'd been told that, I felt like the most appropriate course of action was to book a ticket back to Melbourne and apply for a job at McDonalds; something I might actually be capable of doing properly. I didn't, though, and I didn't even go hide out on the balcony, either. I went back to my desk at Oslo and tried to focus very hard on reviewing the data I'd been given and not think bad thoughts about my lack of skills in project management.
I had been so preoccupied I jumped when Sarah tapped me on the shoulder with a smile on her face. “Your phone,” she said, and pointed towards my drawer. “It's been going crazy in there for like the last 15 minutes.”
I stared blankly at her for a second, and then looked at my drawer. Just as she'd said, it buzzed. I'd better turn vibrate off. “Sorry, I hope it hasn't been distracting you.”
She snorted. “Please distract me,” she said, going back to her desk. “I'm watching a terrible Russian TV show that has so much product placement I feel like it's one big infomercial.” She imitated a Hollywood-style Russian accent, and actually didn't do too bad a job at it. “'Please, let me present you with enormous pink diamond. Let me to show you where you are buying such this diamond. Let us reflect on this most wonderful store full of diamonds. Look here at store'.”
That made me laugh for once, and when one of our teammates cleared his throat I realised we were probably bothering him. I felt a bit guilty about that, because I'd asked him to finish something today that realistically should have taken two or three days, and here I was, dicking around and annoying everyone. I scrunched up my face; a job at McDonalds was looking pretty appropriate at this point.
I'd gone to open my drawer and take my mobile out to turn the vibrate function off when I noticed it was a series of notifications from Deviant Art. I paused for a moment. It had been a couple of days since I'd replied to Bree. I still wasn't happy about her lying to me, but the more I thought about it, the more I recognised Henry kind of had a point. It wasn't malicious, and seriously, I wouldn't have let her in if she hadn't lied in the first place. I sighed. I shouldn't defer replying to some fictional point in the future where I wasn't overworked.
I had literally only just opened up my notes and was tapping out a quick reply when Jason powered through the door with a big fat book in his hand. He stopped when he saw me on my phone, looking directly at it and then laughing.
“I just came in here because I thought you might be more comfortable using some of the timeline templates in this,” he said, holding up the thick book. The title was 'Essentials of Effective Time Management in Marketing'. “But maybe you should just read the whole thing.” He dropped it on my desk in front of me, gave me a pointed look, and then left.
Sarah and I glanced at each other, and she rolled her eyes and shook her head about him. It felt like something the naughty students sitting up the back of the room would do to each other if the teacher had told them off.
My other teammates had been surreptitiously watching and of course they didn't say anything, but they didn't need to. I knew what they were thinking and I just felt stupid. And it wasn't as if I could run after Jason and tell him that he just had bad timing and I'd been working really, really solidly.
God, was I kidding myself, though? Was I really working as effectively as I could?
I had spent nearly half an hour earlier in the week printing out all that analytics stuff to arrange artfully on Sarah's desk. That was definitely time that could have been better spent. And Jason was right about accepting Canada's design project. Goddamnit, why hadn't I put my foot down with the arsehole lead from that team? Did I really need his approval? And what the fuck was that 'good girl' crap he'd said to me, anyway? I had a brief fantasy where I was a guy and instead of accepting his stupid fucking design project, I just punched him as soon as he opened his mouth and kept walking.
I chuckled to myself about that and then realised what I was laughing at and immediately stopped. Why the hell would I imagine being a guy? I tried to correct myself by imagining it again just with how I looked right now, and the fantasy didn't have any of the same oomph or satisfaction about it.
I felt really uncomfortable about that, and I didn't want to think about what it meant. Fuck, I really didn't have time for this crap. We were so behind, and my team had all probably given up on me and decided I was terrible at my job. I didn't need to have any more time-consuming personal crises.
I didn't take a lunch break. I did, however, exceed the recommended maximum number of cans of Red Bull and eat a decrepit muesli bar I found at the very bottom of my handbag.
In the evening, Sarah had to go pick Rob up because he lived somewhere out in suburbia, so she said goodbye a little bit after seven, and reminded me the booking was for eight. My other three teammates all disconnected their laptops from everything and went home with them shortly after that, presumably to continue working there.
I hoped that I'd regained at least some credibility by being the last one to leave. I actually had most of the data by now, and we'd had a meeting to discuss the strongest leads, and it was really looking like it was going to be Russia. I hadn't done any sort of business with Russia before, and neither had the rest of the team. It would probably be wise to spend some of the budget on getting a consultant to train us and the sales team on cultural appropriateness. There was also the off-chance that we'd need to go and deliver the pitch in Russia given the tight timeframes for getting people out here. That was kind of cool, at least. Moscow was supposed to be beautiful.
I caught myself. Wait a second, Min. That was if we had stuff done on time and if I didn't fuck the hell up. And, fuck, I really needed to write the marketing statement tonight. I'd told the team I'd email it to them tomorrow and I hadn't even started it. I opened a blank file. Shit, shit. I was running out of time.
“Min,” that was Henry's voice, “there's this thing called a mobile phone. I think you might even have one.”
I looked up, kind of startled. Henry had his head poked in through the doorway. I briefly wondered what he was doing here instead of just texting me, but then I remembered I'd turned off vibrate on my phone because of Bree's messages. And now Henry was here, and shit Henry was here. I hissed and hurriedly shut the screen of the laptop. “Henry, you're not supposed to be in Oslo!” I gestured out behind him. “Diane's office is just around the corner!” The last fucking thing I needed was to have one of the CEOs unhappy with me, too.
He had his briefcase with him, I could see the corner of it halfway down the door. “I wouldn't be except you haven't answered three texts and the phones aren't connected to this office. We really need to leave now or we'll be late. It's 7:50.”
I
looked back at my screen. I really, really, needed to write that statement. It wouldn't take more than about half an hour. An hour, at the most. “In a second,” I said. “Sarah knows the pressure we're under, she'll understand if I'm late. You just go on without me.”
“...and yet she's probably already at the restaurant, waiting for us. Come on.” He pushed the door all the way open and stood in the doorway. “You can do the rest over the weekend.”
“Henry,” I said. I could hear the note of desperation in my voice and I hated it. “I will literally be done in about half an hour. You just order me something and I'll be there on time to eat it.” He didn't budge. Since there was no one else within earshot, I added, “My team's already basically given up on me and Jason thinks I'm hopeless. I have to get this done!”
He walked into the room towards me. “Min, by all reports you're great at your job, so I'm sure you're just overreacting.” He stopped behind my chair. “Are you actually going to make me drag you there? Because I will try.” Despite saying that, though, he didn't. He just stood behind me and looked down at me. He always looked quite imposing in a full suit with his jacket on. “Min. Let's go.”
My heart was racing. “Henry, you don't understand, I really just need to get this finished, so if you could just give me—”
“Can we help you, Henry?” said a cool voice from the doorway.
We both turned looked over towards it and to my horror, Diane Frost was standing there. She wasn't looking at me, she was looking at Henry, but it didn't matter. I knew who was going to cop it. “I hope Min explained to you this is a closed office.” When she looked down at me, I felt sick.
“She did, and very clearly, but I'm just trying to drag her out of here for food,” Henry explained, trying to soften her. Fuck, he was good with people; he sounded so lovely. “Taking appropriate breaks is an OH&S issue, after all.”
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. “I'm sure she appreciates the gesture,” Diane said. “But you still shouldn't be in here. Political pitches are strictly confidential.”
“You're right, and I shouldn't need to have that explained to me, I apologise,” he said easily. He seemed so relaxed, but I could hardly move. I was frozen in place as Henry bent down beside me and opened my drawer. I didn't actually know what he was doing until I saw him walk out of the room, nodding respectfully at Diane as he passed her. Once he was out in the corridor he held up what was in his hand.
My handbag.
My jaw dropped. I'd told him about what Bree had done, but never in a million years would I have thought he'd take tips from her. He went off towards the lifts with it while I sat there feeling ill.
Diane directed me a very hard stare. “Don't let him in here,” she said once he was gone. “I don't care what his excuses are. Did I not make that clear enough for you?”
Apparently not. I felt so stupid. “Of course you did, it won't happen again.”
She kept glaring through me. “Jason tells me there are some holdups with the documents?”
I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. God, could it get any worse? Of course Jason had told her. I bet he'd told her how I'd been wasting time on my phone, too. “It's nothing that hard work can't fix,” I said, probably sounding much more confident than I felt.
She nodded once. “Good,” she said. “You won’t make me regret choosing you to lead this project, will you?”
From the way she said that, I think she already was. And she should regret it, too. If I needed Diane Frost to come in here to tell me how to do my job, I was majorly underperforming.
I watched her leave, feeling sick, so fucking sick. I'd been so excited about this opportunity. I had been looking so forward to impressing her and exceeding her expectations and now... Well, now everything was turning to shit and I still hadn't finished the fucking framework docs we needed. She should have chosen a more experienced project lead even if they were all loud, egotistical fucks. I wasn't up to this, but I couldn't pull out of it now without destroying my career. I just had to do it and not fuck up any more than I had. Somehow. Fuck, I needed sleep, but I had this stupid dinner.
I really needed to touch up my makeup before I met Sarah's boyfriend, and, shit, all my makeup was in my handbag and Henry had taken off with it. I didn't know how far he'd go with it, but if he was making a point he might actually take it all the way to the restaurant.
I hurriedly shut down my laptop and pulled out the USB. I gave my desk a cursory glance to make sure I had definitely shredded everything that showed anything about the project, and then left the room. I could come back tomorrow and grab the computer if I needed it.
After I'd shut Oslo, I jogged all the way to the lifts, but Henry hadn't even pressed the button. He was just waiting there. “I actually am very sorry about that,” he said as he passed me my handbag. “I hope I didn't get you into too much trouble.”
I couldn't think straight, the adrenaline was making everything feel a bit surreal. The bottom line was that I was fucking up, though. Henry couldn't be blamed for that. “No more trouble than I already got myself in,” I said dismissively. “Fuck, I need alcohol. Lots of alcohol. And then I need to pass out and wake up at in the middle of the night and keep working.”
Henry nodded once. “Sounds balanced,” he said mildly, and then offered me his hand. “It'll all be alright, Min.” I looked at it. I felt kind of sweaty and restless, so I shook my head. He nodded again and put it back in his pocket.
When we entered the lift, I stood facing the mirrors to fix my lipstick and my eyeliner and try to do something about my hair. I looked fucking terrible, as usual. Definitely not in form to punch Canada's project lead.
“How do I look?” I asked Henry, anyway.
He had been watching me with concern and it was a little claustrophobic. “Gorgeous, of course,” he said. “But like someone who could use a holiday. How many annual leave days do you have? I was thinking we could go across to New Zealand for a week or two. There are some great landscapes there...”
I knew he was just being nice but I actually felt a little patronised, like he was suggesting I wasn't able to cope with my job and that I needed him to help me find ways to relax. “It doesn't matter, I can't use them until after this pitch anyway,” I said, and then winced as I remembered Diane's expression. “Fuck, how the fuck am I screwing this up so badly?”
He put a hand gently on my back. “Min,” he said. “You are fantastic at your job and the CEO would not have hand-picked you for a key project if you weren't. You'll work things out, and that mix-up back there was clearly all my fault, anyway. Let's leave work at work and relax for once. Sarah seems very nice.”
He was right, she was nice, but that didn't really help me feel better about how I was doing at my job. Once we were out in the fresh air and walking towards the restaurant, though, I did feel a little better. Henry was right, and I had the whole weekend to work solidly on that stupid document. Additionally, Sarah had been really looking forward to this dinner so the least I could do was try and forget work and enjoy it. She was fun, I decided. It would be okay.
The restaurant was just off Darling Harbour and the outdoor dining area had palm trees lit underneath by real torches. All the furniture was heavy, rustic wood, too. It was very atmospheric.
“Hey, guys!” I recognised Sarah's voice and looked over the sea of tables for her. She was already up and walking briskly over to us. A big, burly man was following her.
He couldn't have looked any more like a tradie if he tried; he had the shaggy hair, the only-just-barely-dressed-enough-for-dinner look, and a walk that said, 'I do manual labour for a living and check out my real muscles, eh?' He had a bit of a pot-belly, too, but because he was already so stocky it didn't look out of place. His broad smile I recognised from the photos on Sarah's desk.
Sarah had changed for dinner and she was wearing jeans, boots and a big loose t-shirt that fell perfectly everywhere. Beside him she looked incredibly slender and stylish. �
�Min!” she said, touching my arm like she usually did and standing aside for her boyfriend as he caught up to her. “This is Rob, Rob, Min Lee, my boss, now!” I flinched as she said that, but took Rob's hand when he offered it to me to shake. He was taller than me and his hands were as big as dinner plates. I managed to smile at him, despite how shit I was feeling.
Henry leant forward as well and shook Rob's hand with an incredibly practised, smooth movement. “Henry Lee,” he said.
Rob's eyebrows went up. “Oh, 'Lee' as well? Are you two married already? How long?”
“Since birth,” I said, and was about to explain that it was just a really common name, but Rob clearly took what I'd said literally.
He just kind of squinted at me. “One of those arranged marriages?” Sarah was already trying really hard to smother her amusement beside him. I watched her, thinking that if I'd been in a better mood, I might have played along to see how far I could have taken that 'arranged marriage' thing.
Henry ruined it, though. “No, no. 'Lee' is just like the South Korean version of 'Smith', there's a lot of us.”
“Oh, right,” Rob said, and then laughed openly. “Sorry, I'm a bit of a dick when it comes to all this cultural stuff. I grew up in far north Queensland. But don't worry, I didn't vote for One Nation,” he added as we started to move back to the table. “So what do you do, Henry? You remind me of the guy who hires and fires at the mines.”
That made Henry laugh. “That's my job in a nutshell,” he said. “I'm guessing you don't work in an office?”
Rob held the chair out for Sarah; it was actually very, very cute. She looked delighted, accepting it as he sat down beside her. “Is it that obvious?” He grinned at Henry. “I'm a fitter and turner. I work at Frost Energy up in Broome, FIFO at the moment but we'll see.” He put his arm around Sarah.
Under My Skin Page 14
