by Anna Bell
‘I need to catch you up before we get to the office. I’m just leaving my apartment now, so I’ll be with you in half an hour.’
‘Um,’ said Jess.
‘Great, see you then.’
Jess stared at the receiver. Who was he? She wondered if she’d met a divorce lawyer in the bar last night and got all fired up over leaving Benjy. She cursed herself for having the knack of always being able to talk to random strangers. And cursed herself even more for being so melodramatic. She’d left Benjy and investigated divorce proceedings. Benjy was always telling her she blew things out of proportion and for once, he might have been right.
She thought logically, or as logically as she could with the pounding drums in her head. If she got up now, painful as it may be, she could be up and ready and out of the hotel in twenty minutes, before this Jake Harrington, whoever he was, arrived.
She glanced at the address on the headed notepad by the phone, relieved that the hotel’s address was in the village. She could be showered and at home in twenty minutes. With, hopefully, a grovelling Benjy realising how wrong he’d been about their argument. And if she was really lucky, after her threatening to leave him, he would have cancelled his tour by now.
She placed her fingers underneath the handle of the clunky old-fashioned phone and got a dial tone. This time she called reception asking them to place the phone call to Benjy’s cell phone, just in case there was a special way of calling out from their phones.
‘Hello,’ said the scary woman.
Jess hung up. She knew that the woman could star-69 her back to the hotel, but she wouldn’t get further than that. She didn’t understand what had happened to Benjy’s cell phone. He’d had the same number for the last ten years and she knew it inside out and she had even managed to call it in her drunkest of stupors.
Maybe the network was playing up and there were crossed lines. She’d be home soon enough and then she’d be able to sort it out in person. All she needed to do was have a quick shower and change.
Moving was painful. She didn’t know how much she’d had to drink the night before, but judging from the pounding and the dizziness it had to be a lot. After the tequilas, she’d blacked out.
The bathroom of the hotel was amazing. The only hotels she’d stayed in over the last few years had been grubby, flea-ridden hotels that the band was staying in during their tours. They certainly didn’t have the big fluffy towels or Molton Brown products. Or free toothbrushes. This place was palatial in comparison.
She wondered if she could phone down to reception and bribe them to tell this Jake Harrington that she’d left already, and then she could take a long hot soak in the tub.
Her stomach heaved. On second thoughts lying in warm water with a raging hangover wasn’t so inviting after all.
Jess turned on the waterfall shower and wished she didn’t feel so rough and could enjoy the experience. She couldn’t bear the water to be warm and instead ran a relatively cold shower. The drops of water hit her skin like icicles but the shivering seemed to help her hangover and kept her lurching stomach at bay.
After the world’s quickest shower, and a very long brush of the teeth, Jess decided to see what she had in the way of clothes. She flipped the lid on the suitcase and she looked in disbelief at the neatly packed contents. Jess smiled to herself. She prided herself on her neatness and organisation. Benjy always mocked her for it, and today she was mocking herself. Only she would have packed neatly in the heat of leaving her husband after a shocking row and a billion tequilas.
She began leafing through the clothes but none of them seemed familiar. In place of her usual sweat pants and old faithful jeans were delicately folded pencil skirts and trouser suits. She didn’t even dress that smartly for work. What was going on, and where were her clothes? Jess glanced over at the large, illuminated alarm clock. If she was going to leave before Mr Harrington arrived she needed to get a wriggle on. And at this point that meant dressing in whatever was to hand. She opted for a cute-looking shift dress. She had a quick look at the label, British, and quite far out of her usual price range of Forever 21 dresses.
The dress fitted and she had a quick look in the mirror. She was stunned, as for the first time in a long time, she felt that she looked like an adult. And then she noticed her hair. What has happened to it? Where once her bob had been, she suddenly had to have at least three inches more hair, not to mention that she was a shade or two lighter. She ran her fingers through it; there were definitely no extensions.
She didn’t have time to think about her rapid hair growth; she had to get out of the hotel room and quick. She found a hair band on the side and tied her hair in a loose pony tail, liking the fact it had a swish to it. She could barely get her hair normally into anything but a minuscule little ponytail, and then most if it fell out within minutes.
She scoured the room for her purse, but could only find a neat-looking bag. She opened it up and noticed the small purse had money it, which was good enough for her. She could always return it later. She’d worry about her lack of keys and possessions when she got home. She looked at her old faithful suitcase full of alien clothes and decided once she’d sorted things out with Benjy, and he’d explained what was going on, she’d be back to sort it out.
She slipped on the leather sandals, which felt like a dream on her feet and ran out of the room as quickly as her hangover would let her. She hesitated as she went out of the door as she noticed her watch on the bedside table. She picked it up and fastened it on her wrist.
As she raced down the staircase she wished she could take in the understated opulence of the hotel, the funky chandeliers and quirky paintings, but there wasn’t time. She practically ran out of the lobby, round the rotating doors and banged straight into a man.
‘So sorry,’ said Jess in a more British accent than she usually had. There was something about being polite that bought out her native tongue.
‘Don’t worry about it. Jessica?’ The man said looking at her in the face for the first time.
She was about to shake her head and pretend he had the wrong woman.
‘I’m Jake Harrington, nice to finely meet you in person.’
Chapter 3 – Jessica Anderson
Jessica had grown tired of the pitying looks the doorman at The Grover had been giving her, and after an hour of waiting for Jake she’d decided he wasn’t coming. She had given up on The Grover as a source of help and instead made the long walk to the financial district, and found her way to LMG Global.
Jessica walked across the reception of LMG Global trying not to make eye contact with anyone else, as she was certain they’d be giving her looks like she didn’t belong.
The building was exactly how she’d imagined it would be: all glass and shiny metal. It was intimidating. Not because she was barely dressed and without her bra, but because of the minimalist design. All in all, the reception was designed to scare people, Jessica included.
She was used to strutting her way through the receptions of LMG Global the world over, but she was usually power dressed and on a mission. Here she was skulking across the floor in cheap dress and flip flops, trying not to vomit. She had never felt so small and self-conscious.
She took a seat on what she presumed was a chair, but it looked and felt more like a torture device. The chair was made of white plastic and it was contorted to look like modern art, but with a clever functional twist. Every LMG Global building was different, but they always reflected the city they were in. Jessica’s office in London was in the old part of the city, full of chandeliers and old masters paintings, worlds apart from this one.
She watched the business men and women swiping their cards on the turnstiles as they hurried up the stairs clutching their coffee cups and lap top bags. They’d probably been at breakfast meetings; there weren’t many people that hurried in at 9.30am without good reason. If it had been any normal day Jessica would have done two hours in the office already.
She stared at her f
eet, as she was fed up of looking at people. She felt like she wanted to cry, or at the very least for the ground to open up and swallow her. She’d asked the receptionist to contact Jake Harrington. At first the woman had eyed Jessica suspiciously and given her a look that would have been fitting to if she’d found dog poo on the bottom of her shoe. After Jessica had insistently told her that she worked in the London office, the receptionist had sighed a long, drawn-out sigh, and dialled Jake’s extension number. She obviously thought Jessica was going to stand there all day clogging up the reception desk if she didn’t reach Jake.
Jessica looked at her watch; she’d been sat in the reception for fifteen minutes. He was either not expecting her or he was just plain rude. She was beginning to think that the receptionist had fake dialled Jake in the hope that she’d give up and leave, but then she heard the elevator doors ping open, and Jake walked out.
Jessica caught her breath. Jake Harrington was much better looking in real life than he was on the company intranet. She’d looked him up a few months ago when they’d first started working on the SinoDam deal together, and then printed off the details on Friday before she left the office. She always prided herself on doing her research. The intranet had a mini-career biography on him. She knew he’d graduated from Princeton with an economics degree, and had done his MBA at Columbia. She knew he played racquetball and soccer, and had a love of hiking. She knew all of that, but not how attractive he was.
She felt practically naked in her vest dress. She self-consciously folded her arms over her chest and rose carefully out of the uncomfortable seat. The receptionist directed Jake over to Jessica with the point of her biro and another big sigh.
He pulled at the corner of his jacket to straighten it as he walked over. He kept checking over his shoulders to see who was around him, and Jessica guessed so that he could see if any one important was watching him walk over to the unkempt woman. Jessica started moving forward slowly to greet him.
‘Jake Harrington,’ said Jake putting his hand out in an automatic way. Jessica looked into his face, but there was no hint of recognition and no friendliness in his expression.
‘Jessica Anderson.’
‘What can I do for you Mrs Anderson?’
Jessica was caught out at the inference of ‘Mrs’ then she realised she was still wearing the wedding ring. She turned it self-consciously, still unsure of what she’d done the night before. Jake wasn’t really looking at her, he seemed distracted and uninterested.
‘I’m from the London office, I thought you were expecting me?’
Jake tilted his head to one side and looked at her, as if he was properly doing so for the first time. Jessica flushed with embarrassment at her casual attire.
‘I’m afraid not. I was expecting someone from our London office, and they’ve already turned up.’
Jessica knew he was eyeing her suspiciously. If she had greeted someone in the lobby of her office dressed as she was, she wouldn’t have believed that they worked for LMG Global either.
‘But there has to be some mistake. I’m supposed to be meeting you. My assistant Sasha has been liaising with your office and she made all the plans.’
‘I’ve been dealing with Sasha for a few weeks. But she isn’t your assistant.’
Jessica was getting cross now. Her tone became deeper and more insistent. ‘She is, she’s been my assistant for two years.’
‘Hmm. Well tell that to Patricia Haye, who is upstairs. I think she’ll see it a little differently.’
Jessica couldn’t believe what she was hearing here. ‘Patricia Haye? That bitch?’
‘You’ve said it,’ said Jake muttering under his breath. Jessica looked up at him and he coughed. Jessica looked around the reception and realised they were causing a bit of a scene. She wondered if people assumed she was a scorned lover coming to get her man back.
The receptionist was watching them out of the corner of her eye, and Jessica was sure she could see a little smirk on her face. But only a little smirk as the rest of her face still looked frozen, like an ice maiden.
‘Look, I’m going to the coffee shop across the street. Wanna walk with me?’
Jessica realised that Jake was as embarrassed as she was of the scene that was unfolding. She barely nodded. She had no idea what was going on. She felt like she was going mad, and it was leaving her drained and exhausted.
‘So you’ve met Patricia?’ said Jessica, trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. Patricia wasn’t Jessica’s biggest fan, not since Jessica had been promoted over her, despite Patricia having worked at LMG Global for twice as long. But even so, if she could just get to Patricia she would be able to explain everything.
But what was Patricia doing here anyway? When they’d gone for the usual Friday-night team drinks Patricia hadn’t said anything about going to New York. In fact, she’d spent the whole night looking like she’d had a wet fish slapped around her face at every mention of Jessica going to New York. Patricia was supposed to be going to their Edinburgh office for the next fortnight. Maybe her travel plans had gone wrong, or maybe she’d plotted against Jessica. She shook those thoughts off; she knew Patricia was a bitch, but not even she had the intelligence to have pulled off this confusion.
‘Yeah, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Patricia,’ said Jake. He smiled a defeated smile and Jessica understood. She only had to spend five minutes alone in her company and her skin crawled.
‘I was supposed to meet her last night, but I had an emergency, and then when I offered to take her out to breakfast this morning to apologise she snubbed me, and instead came in early and spent the morning drooling over my boss.’
‘That sounds like Patricia.’ Jessica had always thought that Patricia would have enjoyed working in the 1980s better, when her only option to break the glass ceiling would have been to sleep her way to the top. She’d neglected to realise that in the twenty-first century being good at your job was enough.
‘So you’re from the London office too? And you work with Patricia?’
‘Yes, I’m a fund manager. I’ve come over for the Housemen and Henshaw Conference. I’m a keynote speaker, speaking in the China track about investing in sustainable energy.’
‘That’s what Patricia has come over for.’
‘No, it should be me.’ Jessica started shaking her head. As they approached the coffee shop Jake held open the door for her. He quickly ordered himself a tall mocha, and Jessica, who realised she hadn’t had anything to drink since the night before, took up the offer of a latte.
‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on. But all my communication with London has been with Sasha and Patricia. I’ve not heard of you Jessica. I’m sorry.’
Jessica looked down at the counter as they waited for their drinks. Jessica knew Jake must think she was nuts. She didn’t blame him – she looked a mess and she must stink of booze.
‘I don’t know how you know who I am, or why you think you’re a keynote speaker, but I don’t think there is anything I can do to help.’
Jessica tried to protest, but what could she say? She was on the verge of grabbing him by the shoulders and shouting at him. Telling him that they’d instant messaged on Friday arranging their appointment for yesterday. How they’d been emailing back and forth about their big conference and her speech on Thursday. But Jake didn’t seem to be interested. It seemed that as far as he was concerned he’d met his London rep, and whether he liked her or not, Patricia was it.
‘Tall mocha and latte,’ said the barista as he placed the drinks down in front of them.
Jake took both drinks and handed the latte to Jessica. They walked towards the exit. He held the door open for Jessica and she reluctantly walked through.
‘Look I’m sure there has been a big mistake, if you just phone Sasha about me, we’ll have this cleared up in no time,’ said Jessica.
Jake gave her a pitying look and then looked back up to the LMG Global building, as if planning his escape from the cra
zy woman.
‘I’ve spoken to Sasha this morning, actually. Patricia had asked me to get her to send some files over, apparently using a telephone that isn’t hers is beneath her.’
Jessica couldn’t help laughing. Patricia was well known for purring down the phone when she wanted to, and farming out calls to the junior staff when she didn’t want to.
‘Well, ask Patricia about me,’ she said in desperation, her pitch suddenly becoming high and squeaky.
‘I don’t know what is going on, Jessica, but I don’t know what you want me to do about it. I’m up to my eyeballs in work before this conference, and finalising our investment in SinoDam. I’ve got the London executive I was expecting. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for you.’
Jessica was staring at him and his eyes were clearly aimed to the right of her. He was clear in his tone, whatever was happening to her she was on her own. And without waiting for a reply from her he turned on his heels and walked away.
Jessica stood and watched him walk towards the big glass building. She felt the fury burning up inside her. She followed him as he walked into the office building and he turned back as he approached the security guard. Jessica saw the security guard follow Jake’s finger back to her. How dare he? Not only was he not believing her story, but he was telling the security guard to watch out for her.
The security guard eyeballed Jessica, nodding at whatever Jake was telling him. She turned her back on them.
She wasn’t used to being treated this way. When this was all sorted out, she’d have his guts for garters. Technically they were on the same grade at work, but she’d make sure she’d have a stern word with her director about this. Jessica was the golden child in the London office and she knew he’d be on the phone to Jake’s boss in minutes. Jake would soon see that he couldn’t treat Jessica like this.
She looked around the financial district. All she needed to do now was find a pay phone and she’d have this all ironed out in no time.
