by Fox Brison
“Fifteenth of September, one sister, younger, and green.”
“There’s no need to be facetious,” she said softly.
“I wasn’t being. You’re right we don’t know each other… yet… And to be fair, you can’t keep standing on my toe every time I make a mistake either.” I smiled. “But it’s easily rectified. I was going to suggest we spend some time together this week getting to one another. Devise a bit of a backstory and cover all our bases.”
“Adele, can I think about this?”
Her vacillation was seriously starting to piss me off. Was it really such a repugnant thought having to spend a few nights with me? I was basically bending over backwards for her and she still wasn’t happy. I was sick of the gently gently approach. “Of course. Take all the time in the world,” I spat sarcastically. “And up until then what, I pay for a hire car? Or are you going to add that to the six thousand you already owe me?” I hardened my heart and concentrated on my future in Manhattan.
“You really are a cold calculating bitch, aren’t you?”
“It has been said,” I admitted with a half shrug. I was unwavering. She’d broken the deal first, I justified to myself.
“Again it appears I have no choice, Adele. Fine. Eight evenings, maximum.” Then she looked at me strangely, a mixture of regret and disappointment.
It was a victory, but seeing her expression change throughout the evening, it was a hollow one. I stood to leave and regretted almost everything about the night except the fact Joanne was still in my life, for the next month at least.
And I realised with a jolt that that was almost as important to me as the promotion.
Chapter 19
Joanne
I groaned when my alarm went off, an hour earlier than usual. Tuesday mornings should be outlawed. Bin day. Turning on the radio in the kitchen (and murdering Lana del Ray’s Young and Beautiful) I felt an itch between my shoulder blades, the sort of prickling sensation you get when you’re not alone. I shook my head. Imagining ghosties was the least of my problems; Adele’s visit last night raised a myriad of emotions. Shock at the bill, dismay at her proposal and gratitude for finding my mother a place at a rehab centre.
Opening the back door, I scratched my head when I discovered the bin wasn’t in its usual place. I checked in the alley around the corner and finally opened the side gate and there it was, already on the pavement awaiting collection. Okay so that’s weird, although I wasn’t going to complain too much because it was a task I loathed, especially as I frequently put the wrong colour bin out.
I finally programmed it into my phone to remind me if it was green, brown or black bin week.
Craig must have done it on his way to work. Bless him. Craig, our neighbour, was a smidgen sweet on my mam and he’d put them out for me a few times before when I’d forgotten or was running late. Speaking of running late… I hurried back inside and carried my coffee back upstairs. It was going to be a long day and I needed the caffeine injection.
***
“So why aren’t you coming to college tonight?” Ashleigh waved a ham sarnie at me as we sat in the noisy canteen. I politely declined because I was struggling to finish even the apple I was eating. When Adele called, a miniscule part of me wondered if she was feeling the same tenuous connection between us that I’d felt; I don’t know why, but I sensed there was more to Adele Jackson than met the eye and maybe I was the girl she’d been waiting for to breach those impenetrable defences.
How wrong could one person be?
“Because I’m going to see Adele at her office,” I explained.
“Ooh, Adele,” she winked. “You must have made a very good impression on Friday!”
“You could say that.” I crunched into my Golden Delicious.
Ashleigh frowned at my disingenuous manner. “I could? O.M.Geee. Did you?”
“God no. She wants to extend the terms of our agreement.”
“Agreement? What, you mean the escort deal?” she exclaimed. The ham buttie was forgotten and she picked up her bottle of Irn Bru, eyes as wide as two saucers.
“Shhh. Not so loud.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Yes. Every time I go out with her she’ll take five hundred off the repair bill. And as I owe her six thousand-”
“Christ, six thousand for that little ding? Hold your horses…” she stared at me incredulously, a look that had become all too familiar because she’d worn it several times. “Did you just say she was going to knock off five hundred quid every time you go out with her?”
“Seemingly that’s the going rate for an escort,” I said forthrightly. I’d spent several hours throughout the night tossing and turning, trying to work out what Adele’s game was. There had to be a catch, somewhere. This was the second time she’d gotten me out of a jam, and both times I’d been a bitch about it, yet she kept coming back for more. Or maybe it was what it was, two people doing each other a favour. Yeah right. Two complete strangers doing each other a favour. ‘Throw Momma from the Train’ sprang to mind. If Adele suddenly introduces me to her family, I’ll be the one calling the police!
“Are you sure you’re not holding out on me?” Ashleigh flashed me a grin and waggled her eyebrows. “And failed to mention a few little extras?”
“Of course not!” I slapped her arm.
“In that case I’m changin’ jobs. Has sexy architect got any friends?”
“Idiot. I said that too, about changing jobs. But the money wasn’t really the clincher.”
“No?”
“No. She’s organising it so mah mam can go to rehab.” I couldn’t but help smile. Tomorrow morning at eight am, my mother was going to get the help she desperately needed - and since the accident, the help she desperately wanted.
“How the hell did she manage that? Is she blackmailing some other poor sucker?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. Mam’s been going through the dt’s for a week now and I cannae see her suffering any more. A few dates with Adele is well worth it.”
“It sounds a fair trade from where I’m sitting,” she admitted grudgingly. “So how’s it going to work?”
“Basically, we’re going to spend the next week getting to know each other and then I’m accompanying her on a few work engagements. She was at my house for two hours last night.” My eyes became dreamy and I laid my head on my hand. “She has a Harley Davidson.” Women in leathers was my secret kryptonite.
“A motorbike?” Ashleigh repeated with a knowing smirk. Okay, so perhaps it wasn’t such a secret after all.
“Yep, and we’re going shopping and then for a walk tonight, which is why I’m missing college,” I added.
“Shopping? She’s taking you to Asda?”
“No, doilum, for clothes. She doesn’t think my wardrobe is suitable to impress. It’s plebeian, apparently.”
Ashleigh immediately picked up my enmity. To be fair, I wasn’t exactly subtle. “Plebeian? What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means blue collar… working class. I’m not sure she meant it like it came out.” After two hours in her company without others to temper her personality, I was becoming more accustomed to Adele Jackson’s character defects. Or maybe it was gradually inured?
“What, like a snobby insult? Gobshite,” Ashleigh sneered.
“She has her moments,” I conceded. “Although perhaps saying I had a lovely green sequined frock that I used for my second job as a stripper was partly to blame. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head!” I didn’t add that the blush it raised was dead cute.
“You should have told her you owned a sexy French maid’s outfit too, complete with heels and fishnet stockings!” Ashleigh laughed.
“It certainly would be more apt,” I observed drolly. “And we’re going on a couple of faux dates to get to know one another. She wants to show me the Edinburgh she knows tonight, whatever that means, and then a week on Friday we’re going to the opera. After that,” I shrugged, “I really don’t have a clue. If we get to know
each other, hopefully the next month will not only be bearable, but go quicker too.”
The mouthful of Irn Bru Ashleigh swallowed made another appearance in a fine spray. “Month? Jesus, that’s bondage and not the good kind either!”
“Good kind?” I protested with a blush.
“Yeah the good kind. I betcha she’d be into it too. She looks the type that likes to be in control.”
I stopped to think about what Ashleigh had said because she made a valid point. Adele most definitely preferred being in charge. “Yeah,” I said and coughed. That should not have come out quite so lasciviously.
“So let me get this straight.” She began counting Adele’s characteristics on her fingers. “Dyke on a bike. Slightly butch. Rocks heels. Artistic. Likes to be in control. Blonde. Have I missed anything?” By now she was smiling so broadly her face was about to crack.
“Nope.”
“So basically Christmas has come early and Santa sent you your lesbian wet dream as a present?”
I laughed. She was only half right. “Something like that. But if we add in the blackmail and heart of stone, I think the Grinch is a truer likeness!”
“You don’t have to do this,” Ashleigh said gravely. “We can find another way.”
“Perhaps and if it wasn’t for the rehab place I’d be investigating all other avenues. But as you said it’s a pretty sweet deal, plus I might get myself a few decent fantasies out of it to tide me over until I acquire a real girlfriend.” I winked and Ashleigh burst out laughing.
The more I thought about Adele Jackson, which believe me was pretty much constantly over the past seven days, the more I realised I wouldn’t be totally averse to some of those fantasies becoming a reality.
Perhaps I did have masochistic tendencies, at least where Adele Jackson was concerned.
***
Even though I finished work a couple of hours early the bus home was full, so I had to wait for a second, which meant I was rushing to make Edinburgh before five o’clock. Thankfully the bin fairy had visited again so I raced straight up the path, my eyes focussed on my bag as I searched for my keys…
…and consequently slammed into the door, almost breaking my neck, when I tripped on the package left in the middle of the path. “What the fuck?” I bent down with a frustrated tut, before picking up a china teddy bear left next to a bunch of flowers, curtesy of the local garage. Huh. I looked up and down the street, then shrugged. Could Adele have left them as an apology? It didn’t seem like her style, but who knew? I certainly couldn’t say definitively because she was one step up from being a stranger.
And about a million from being a friend never mind anything else…
Again, there was a prickle in my stomach. I glanced back down at the teddy. Was it unease? Attraction?
Female intuition calling out a warning?
Chapter 20
Joanne
It was five fifteen on Tuesday evening and Edinburgh was rocking. Actually it wasn’t so much rocking as stalling. I jumped off the bus several stops earlier than I would normally and walked the rest of the way to Adele’s offices. It was by far the quicker option. I suggested we meet earlier so I could get back to my mam sooner, but Adele couldn’t swing the time; I had a sneaking suspicion I wasn’t the first girlfriend, counterfeit or otherwise, to have heard those same words. Adele was so focussed, I guessed was the right word, on her career.
My pseudo love was anything but a pseudo workaholic.
I nervously cast a glance behind me; I was sure… I shook my head. Stop being so stupid, Jo, it’s just because you’re anxious.
“Hello again, Miss Cassidy,” the receptionist remembered me and smiled warmly in welcome.
“Oh. Erm. Hi.” I was surprised because firstly she must have seen hundreds of people a week and secondly, well not to appear too self-deprecating, I wasn’t that memorable. “Adele’s expecting me.”
“I’ll let Janine know you’re here.”
“I’m just popping to the ladies,” I said with a wave and when I reached the toilets, I hid myself away, this time in the farthest cubicle from the door. Being back at Adele’s offices brought reality to a screaming halt. My life had, quite literally, turned into a car crash reality show and I was powerless to stop it. I put the lid down on the toilet, took a seat, and pulling my knees up to my chest, contemplated life.
Who needed a yoga mat when there was a loo handy?
“So, Aileen, I heard a rumour about your competition…” a clipped voice said as the door to the bathroom swung open. It came to my mind that all the women who worked here retained the same shortened tones and wondered if it was part of the recruitment requirements along with at least three of the deadly sins. I instantly identified its owner because we’d met on Friday in a similar setting.
It belonged to Mackenzie, Adele’s apprentice and I assumed her bathroom buddy was the same Aileen who was Adele’s nemesis.
“So this rumour?” Aileen asked.
“Adele isn’t quite the long shot that she once was.”
“You’re fucking joking me.” I heard a slap, a hand hitting the countertop.
“I wish I were. Apparently the Jordans were very impressed with her and that Dumbiedykes trash she brought on Friday.”
Dumbiedykes was another council estate in Edinburgh with a poor reputation, and I guess Mackenzie thought it was a clever play on words. Bitch. I may be a lesbian and I may live on a council estate, but I was not trash. Money doesn’t always equate class, Mackenzie Stephenson was proof of that. I couldn’t blame her for dissing Adele after witnessing the sarcastic dressing down she’d been given, but I’d never done anything to her.
“Damn, are you sure?”
“Very.” Mackenzie was adamant.
I gave myself a mental high five. Okay the Dumbiedykes comment made me want to smash her head off the sink unit, but team Jackson/Cassidy (Jackidy… no, I shook my head. That sounds like a kids tv show. Cason. Better) were coming up fast in the outside lane.
“Crap we have to do something. Helen’s already chosen the twins pre-school in New York.” There was a moments silence, then Aileen continued in softer tones, so soft I could barely hear. “Would you consider throwing a spanner in the works? I’d make it worth your while.”
Huh, it seems Adele wasn’t the only architect in this firm not averse to using blackmail or bribery to get this damned promotion. I wondered what she meant by spanner in the works, but wasn’t left guessing for long.
“Aileen you know I love you, but I don’t think I could. That Joanne must be as rough as sandpaper to stomach sleeping with Scarfy. Have you seen her neck?” Mackenzie started retching.
Scarfy? Bitch bitch bitch.
“No,” Aileen replied greedily. Her tone lifted and was far too fervent for my liking.
“From what I saw, it was like she’d bathed in acid or a chemical peel had gone drastically wrong.”
“So that’s why she wears those scarves, I thought she was a silent partner in the Edinburgh Scarf Company.” They both laughed, a horrible sneering sound.
“Look I’d better get back before she starts howling for me. Drinks at Magoos then back to mine?” Mackenzie’s voice accompanied the swish of the door opening.
“Definitely. We’ll have to think of a way to nip this Adele resurgence in the bud before she gets any closer, and you know I often get my best ideas in bed.”
The toilet door banged closed and I started to breathe again. This was what Adele put up with? Working with bitchy and bitchier. Yeah. I’m not the lap dog, Mackenzie. Bathed in acid. That phrase became stuck in my mind.
Was that why Adele demanded perfection because she couldn’t abide her own perceived flaws?
***
“Hi?” I’d been stood at the door to Adele’s office for five minutes, a little stunned if I’m honest, because I had never seen a person so engrossed in their work that they didn’t realise they were being watched. And watched closely. It was fascinating to see Adele’
s pencil fly over the paper; her expression was one of joy, of complete love for what she was doing.
It was as much a revelation as the conversation I’d just overhead in the ladies.
“Joanne?” She looked irritated by the interruption.
“Sorry I can go and grab a coffee if you’re still busy. The receptionist said I could come up.” I detested the tentativeness that infiltrated my voice.
“It’s fine,” she waved me towards a seat. “Just give me fifteen minutes to finish these sketches?”
“Sure no problem, I have some college notes to go over.” I began rifling through my bag.
“Great, so I thought we’d head to the old town first. There are some lovely boutiques hidden away. Is that okay with you?” She clicked her mechanical pencil a couple of times.
I didn’t answer at first, still mulling over what I heard in the bathroom. “Will Mackenzie be at the opera?” I asked innocently.
“I should imagine so. She’s just as keen to impress, although far more obsequious and sycophantic about it. Why?”
“No reason.”
The door opened and Janine entered with an armful of folders. “There’s a reason for everything, sweetie. Thanks, Janine.” Adele took the folders from her assistant. “Why don’t you head off home, Janine, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Thanks, Adele. Oh by the way, Adam wants you to give him a buzz before you leave. I think it’s about Mackenzie.” Janine made a face, a cross between a grimace of distaste and an eye roll. She’d better hope the wind didn’t change because she looked like a Notre Dame gargoyle.
“Will do…” she turned to me and held up the phone. “Do you mind if?”
“Not at all, don’t mind me.”
Adele dialled through to Adam. “Hi, Adam, Janine said… yes…” she was blatantly pissed off, but quickly schooled her features and twiddled with her scarf. “Adam you know what I think of Mackenzie, she’s bright, sharp and has huge potential…” she chuckled at something he said, “yes I know I made her cry, but if I can make her cry what hope does she have against the likes of Billy Henderson and his cronies? She needs to toughen up, and I wouldn’t be doing my job if I let her get… seriously, Adam, they’ll eat her alive and then where will she be…? Yeah, yeah, I’ll take it easier on her,” she scowled but there was also the hint of a smile. “I don’t want her to quit. She has a lot to learn, but importantly she has the capacity to do so. Is there anything else because Joanne’s here waiting for me… yes I will… yes I will…” she shook her head. “Adam says hi.”
