by Foster, Zoe
‘It’s okay. He was the best dad I could’ve hoped for while he was around, so I’m grateful for that. You didn’t even have that much … Gosh. It’s all a bit shit and unfair really, isn’t it?’
Marcus smiled, and was about to answer, but four small plates of delicious food arrived, and the attention shifted to them. Marcus passed Abby her cutlery and napkin, and re-filled her water glass. Then he served her all four dishes before serving himself. Abby watched him as he went, quietly mesmerised by his chivalry and shimmering manners.
She thought about his childhood, his life, tried to imagine what his mother looked like, and what she would think of Abby: would she be angry with her for stealing her son away, not only from her, but from the constellation of young women who were closer to him in age? Or would she pour her a glass of wine and warmly tell her to sit down, instantly accepting her because Marcus had? Abby had no idea. But as she watched Marcus delicately shift tantalising meatballs from one plate to another, she realised this evening had gently pushed her down one prong of the fork in the road she faced.
22
The website was due to go live this week, which kept Abby awake late at night with anticipation and excitement and intensely irrational and stressful thoughts about it all failing. Plus, she’d had to ‘let go’ both Charlotte and Siobhan. She’d done it on Friday, they’d been pissed off and shocked and petulant as expected, but she hoped the weekend and their bonus payout sweetener had helped them thaw out. Their contract stated under these circumstances they had two weeks’ notice, so either they would be a real help as the website started to take over, or they’d be resentful, sullen brats who moped around the office and chewed up bandwidth on YouTube.
Rob was impressed with the way Abby had managed to ‘callously and cleanly’ ditch not only all three of her staff, but also her office (and only pay out two of the remaining seven months of the lease) within the space of a fortnight, as if she’d done it all in a movie-style montage, and swivelled on her office chair smoking a cigar at the end of it all. In truth, it had been incredibly stressful, and she felt terrible, especially for the girls. Plus, she now had no staff. Well, Angie was going to come over and help out on Wednesdays and Thursdays until she started touring, but Abby knew it wouldn’t be enough.
Abby felt her phone vibrate in her bag as she waited for the lift, consciously ignoring the slimy looks her probably too-short dress was attracting from the bored businessmen hovering around her.
She pulled it out, it was a number she didn’t recognise, but she answered it anyway. She needed a distraction from the world’s slowest lift.
‘Abby speaking.’
‘Abby! Hi, it’s Charlie. From the whisky event? How are you, have I caught you at a bad time?’
‘Charlie! Hi! No, not a bad time at all, how are you?’ Abby was delighted to hear from Charlie. She couldn’t recall giving her her phone number, but nonetheless, it was good to hear from her.
‘Oh, cool. Hey, sorry for the random call. Shit has been real heavy here at work … In fact, they actually let me go, which wasn’t at all a kick in the baby maker after having bought in their three biggest accounts and worked my bony little ass off to keep them, but anyway, that’s boring, so I’ll get back to why I’m actually calling …’
‘Shit, Charlie, that sucks. I’m so sorry to hear that.’
‘Did me a favour, I’m sure of it. You don’t want to spend your life working to make someone else money, it doesn’t make sense, I’d rather be doing what you’re doing, my own thing, answer to nobody, free as a bird.’
‘Well, yeah, I mean, kind of,’ Abby laughed. ‘It’s not quite at that stage yet, but I’m literally in the process of making it more in that vein, yes.’
‘Would that mean you’re too busy to catch up for a drink this week? I’d love to pick your brain ’bout something, if that’s not annoying and you have time? Also, you know, we’ll chat and have fun, but I wanted to be up-front because the worst thing to do to another person is invite them out under the guise of fun then make it a leeching session.’
Abby laughed. ‘Of course I have time. Can you do … actually, tonight is probably the only one I can do?’
‘Perfection. How about Jack and Jills? At, say, seven? Let me buy you some chicken schnitzel.’
‘Can we make it 7.30?’
‘Of course. See you tonight, Abs.’
So familiar! Abby thought. But somehow Charlie could get away with it.
‘Have a good day, do something fun for us suckers stuck at work; play with a frisbee or hire a kayak or something.’
Charlie laughed and said goodbye, just as the lift finally arrived. Abby stepped in, excited that someone as talented and cool as Charlie would be soliciting help from her.
Things were demonstrably less cool in the office, where neither Charlotte nor Siobhan had showed up, despite it being 9.27 a.m., and the Angie-less answering machine was blinking irritably at Abby. Fuckin’ office phone. That was the first thing that was going. People could use the website for their enquiries from now; an email was so much easier to deal with. God, she could not wait to have that great electronic screening device in action. Everything would be siphoned through it, even her girls would be forced into using it to check their jobs, or contact Abby. Abby was done with calls. It was SMS or email from now on, thank you very much.
Abby continued through to her office and dumped her bag on her desk, waking her computer up with her mouse as she did so. She looked around the office and wondered where all of this shit would go. What did people do with second-hand office furniture? She needed Angie to be on top of this, she had other things to think about, like why Williamson Pearls had cut their request for ten girls down to two for an event this Friday. She’d be sending them a stern email; they couldn’t just do that on a whim, things were quiet at the moment, which while a blessing for the website/staff-firing side of things, was a bit shit finance-wise. Maybe she needed to implement a cancellation fee for clients as well as the girls … Another thing to ask Arthur about. Poor guy, he was about as enchanted with Abby’s questions and requests as an agoraphobic was with a trip to the desert. But it was his own fault for telling her there were no stupid questions, just stupid people who didn’t ask questions when they should. She didn’t want to be one of those morons, especially not when her whole business was riding on it, so she asked around 729 questions a day, pretty much all of them stupid.
The girls finally walked in laughing loudly, holding giant coffees and brown paper bags with their Turkish toast and peanut butter, like two BFFs in a commercial for A Really Awesome Café. Charlotte caught sight of Abby looking at them as they walked in and offered a modest head dip as a hello. She was less juvenile than Siobhan, Abby decided. She understood that it was just a business decision; she wasn’t letting them go because she wanted different girls, or their work wasn’t up to scratch. Whatever. Abby wasn’t interested in talking to them, either, and instead chose to sail down the river of passive-aggressive with an email detailing what she’d need them to have done by the end of the week and their final day. She felt less shitty about being an email witch when she remembered the Miu Miu clutches she’d bought them both as their farewell present.
An email from Marcus popped up. There was a chance it was about the site, but there was vast evidence to support that it might be a YouTube clip featuring a micro-pig stumbling through puddles awkwardly in gumboots, or a song he’d found that he thought Abby would love, or a link to Yahoo! Answers with a question on how to get the courage up to tell your new boyfriend you love him.
As it turned out, it was a photo of him holding a takeaway coffee cup inscribed with the words, ‘Marcus, I love you, call me!!!’ written on it in thick blue texta.
Found a new coffee joint, it’s delicious. I can’t be sure, but I think the barista is flirting with me. He gave me extra chocolate. Hope you’re having a great day, and try not to miss me too much. It’s a bit desperate. X M
Abby laughed o
ut loud and shook her head. He was a funny boy, and flirted in the best possible way: with humour. As usual, she had neither the time nor the cleverness to reply with anything on a competitive level, so stuck to what she knew.
Why are you emailing me? Finish my website already! Faster! FASTER!
‘Your office is filthy,’ said Rob from the door of her office, looking resplendent in a navy suit with waistcoat, with the kind of stubble that looked accidental, but knowing Rob, was highly calculated and at the Perfect Length.
‘And you’re overdressed, but who’s accusing anyone of anything?’
Rob grinned and walked in, taking his usual place opposite Abby’s desk, moving several folders and a stack of headshots to one side in order to set down his tablet.
‘She’s cute,’ he said, looking through some of the comp cards as he settled in.
‘Good, put her to one side, they’re all potentials and I haven’t had a chance to look through them yet.’
‘Tough gig.’
‘Half of them look nothing like their photos, so actually it is a tough job. I usually get Angie to add them as a friend on Facebook so she can go through their photos and see what they really look like.’
‘Possibly illegal; but impressive. Why do they even bother with these things anymore?’ He continued to peruse the photos as he spoke. ‘It’s all email these days anyway, surely?’
‘Will be for Allure. Now the girls just upload their own photos in the “Submit an application” section for us.’
‘Who’s “us”, again, exactly?’ Rob had a glint in his eye as he spoke. If Abby hadn’t banned herself from ever thinking about Rob in a sexual way, ever, she could’ve sworn he was being rather flirtatious today. Perhaps it was just the confidence that came with his new facial hair. Who could say with Rob? Part of his appeal was the fact he was almost impossible to place – some thought he was gay, some thought he was a rampant flirt; some – Laura – thought he was their boyfriend and that he was neither gay nor a flirt.
‘Shut up, you. You know I’m working on it.’
‘Work is the operative word, because that’s what you’ll be doing a lot of until then, madam.’
‘But that’s what the website is for – to do everything while I read magazines and drink coffee. You’re not suggesting that … you can’t be … it’s not – you don’t think I’m going to have to actually do anything from here on, do you?’
‘I know you think you’re joking right now, but actually, I think you mean that a little bit.’
‘Well of course I do! That’s why I did all of this staff-firing and office-lease-breaking, isn’t it? You know, all that stuff you told me to do? So I could be more flexible and free, and less desk-bound and rat-racey.’
‘I love your optimism, Abs. If only it could be bottled and drunk in shots with lemon and salt.’
‘Rob? It’s cool. I know what I’m doing. You said yourself that it’s going to make the business more profitable.’
‘Yes, dear Abby, but not by itself. You can’t just switch this website to “run business” and hit the shops.’
‘I know you think I’m in a fairy princess land where I’ve just outsourced my business to Flash and forms, but I understand the implications.’ Abby watched Rob shake his head as she spoke.
‘Well, I guess if you can pull it all off you will have more time with your toyboy …’
Rob looked at his nails effeminately as he said this, assuming a terrible impression of insouciance.
‘Pardon me?’
‘Oh, come on, don’t play coy, we all know about your little web concubine.’
Abby crossed her arms across her chest, and sat back in her chair. ‘And who is “we” exactly?’ Had Marcus been running his mouth?
‘Just people.’
‘Rob. Come on. Who? Not that I care, obviously, because it’s nothing.’
‘Oh, yes, you definitely sound like someone who doesn’t care and is trying to dismiss nothing.’ His playful, teasing smile was excruciating.
Abby sighed. ‘It’s just a hook-up. You know, something temporary and inappropriate? Now, please, in all honesty, who told you?’
‘Chris is a friend of a friend and we were at a fortieth on Friday night, and it transpired we both worked with someone that was you or Marcus.’
‘Jesus.’
‘So, is it as good as Madonna makes it look? You know, the youthful buck thing?’
‘For your information, of which you seem to have plenty already, he’s very mature for his age.’
Rob laughed raucously, his head rolling back with pleasure at Abby’s sensitive and defensive outburst.
‘Well I’m happy for you. You could do with some fun, you’re so bloody uptight when it comes to your personal life.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Don’t be defensive. In all honesty, you’re living the dream; fooling round with some dreamy young stud, and who cares if he can’t enter licensed premises? I think it’s good for you.’
Rob was going hard on the teasing, Abby thought. A little too hard. How utterly inappropriate and unprofessional and magnificent, she thought. The idea of Rob being jealous was breathtaking.
‘And, you know,’ Rob said, finally finishing up his stand-up routine, ‘you have 24-hour assistance should anything ever go wrong with the website, too, so that’s a win.’
‘Terrific stuff, Rob, great work.’ Even though she secretly loved his teasing, she had to maintain her position of outrage. ‘Now, can we get back to work, please?’
‘Finally! I thought you’d never stop talking about your new boyfriend,’ he said as he fired up his tablet, a playful smile etched onto his lips.
23
Charlie looked terrific at dinner. Her hair was jammed up messily in a high bun, her wispy full fringe grazing her lashes and very Chanel-esque, she wore winged eyeliner and a white blouse with a bow-tie tucked into high-waisted, dark denim jeans. Straight from a streetstyle blog. Or a Topshop campaign. Abby felt conservative, dated and overdressed in her corporate dress by comparison.
Charlie smiled as she greeted Abby, but didn’t go for the hello kiss, which was strange and foreign, and very obviously awkward for Abby, who did, pulling back and laughing self-consciously. It immediately made Abby question if she was one of Those People, who air kissed anyone, everyone, even if they’re not at the cheek kiss level of familiarity. She didn’t want to be one of Those People. She wanted to be cool and aloof like Charlie. Charlie definitely impressed and even intimidated her a little, Abby realised. Not a bad thing; she was used to being around young girls who looked to her for intimidation.
Both women sat down, and Abby immediately grabbed the wine list, jealous of Charlie’s fish-bowl glass filled with a deep burgundy liquid.
‘What a day. Excuse the sailor speak; but fuck me. Intense.’
‘Oooh, don’t miss that one bit,’ said Charlie as she sipped from her wine and moved her chic, python-skinned notepad and pen to one side. ‘I’m living the life of unemployed luxury.’
‘’Sbeen mental. I’ve fired all my staff and am moving out of my office this week …’
‘Whoa, how come? Not enough business?’ Charlie’s eyes were squinty with interest.
‘No, no, no, I just— I wanted to work a bit smarter, get the work coming in and going out purely through the website. It’s stupidly obvious now that I’m doing it, makes so much sense.’
A clearly overworked waitress almost ran into the table and asked if Abby ‘wanted’ a drink, simultaneously snatching the wine menu from her hands. Abby quickly ordered a glass of pinot.
‘So hang on, you’re going to manage that whole business, all those beautiful, excruciating girls and those diabolical clients, all by yourself? Won’t that be too much for you?’
‘I’ll have to for the next little bit, but I’m actually trying to find someone who can help out. Probably part-time, but more of a senior position than the girls I had working with me. I need someone to be ab
le to manage the girls and keep the clients happy, and show at events and keep an eye on things and so on. It’s a pretty simple role, but finding someone who doesn’t mind working Friday and Saturday nights and being on call? Not so easy.’
‘But they don’t work the shift, they just get there and make sure everything’s in order, yeah?’
‘Yep. It’s a bit of a mother-hen role, I guess. And a client suck-up role. And there’ll also be office time, of course. I’m thinking I might hire a contractor for three or six months and see how that goes. Thinking maybe a mum with young kids who wants a little bit of work would be good.’
‘So it’s a pretty lucrative business then? This promo agency stuff?’
‘Ummm …’ Abby laughed awkwardly. What an odd question. ‘Sometimes. Ebbs and flows.’
Charlie tapped her index finger against her cheek, her lips pursed and to one side. Abby’s wine arrived, was sipped urgently and placed back on the table clumsily.
‘Would this be, and this is merely a brain vomit, so just indulge me, would this be a role I might be able to do, do you think?’
Abby’s hand flew to her chest, and her eyes went dead with seriousness. ‘Are you kidding? But you’re so accomplished! You couldn’t be, don’t you think that … would you really be up for that?’
Charlie took a sip of her wine and tucked an imaginary hair behind her left ear.
‘Well, as you know, I don’t got no job right now. Which isn’t the best sell to your potential boss, but you already knew that, and that’s why we’re here anyway, so no skeletons rattling ’round there. And second of all, I don’t mind working weekends and nights, because I’ve done it for years, except my call times were a bit longer than the ones you’d be requesting, by about ten hours, so to me, this role sounds pretty tops, actually. Plus it would allow me to work on my own business and get that all started through the day.’
‘Your own business?’
