by Ellie White
I walk through the office as he talks to Thomas and look around. I'm not surprised to see a picture on his desk of him, his parents and grandparents at his graduation. He was always so close to his grandparents and they were all so proud of him. It was heart-breaking when they died in quick succession of each other and James told me it hit him hard.
I stop to admire the work on the walls. There are drawings and ideas plastered over most of the available surfaces, white boards full of brainstorms, jokes and copy ideas. Everything is so visual and bright. There's work I recognise from campaigns we've completed, other work which I know is ongoing and new things, doodles and ideas just waiting to take off.
It's like he knows what I'm thinking as he comes to stand next to me, pulling an A3 portfolio from the shelves.
"You see things as numbers and graphs, SWOT analysis and SMART goals. This is what I see. Brainstorms, sketches and storyboards." He opens the folder to show me the work inside.
"You're responsible for all these?" I ask, looking through the pages in awe.
"Well, it was a team effort," he says, looking slightly nervous, as if he's waiting for me to judge his work.
"They were all him. I know it's hard to believe but this dude is modest. Everything you see there came from this brain here," a hipster looking guy says as he teases Jake's hair. He's wearing the skinniest jeans I've ever seen and a beanie with giant holes in it that hangs off the back of his head. Surely it can't be very practical for wintry weather?
Jake rolls his eyes as he fixes his tousled hair.
"Maggie, this is Jude," he says, introducing us as Jude sticks his thin hand out to shake mine. "Jude is on our social media team. He's just been promoted, actually, to Head of Social so you might have spoken to him"
"Jude Spencer? It's nice to put a face to the email signature," I say, acknowledging that I have spoken to him.
"Likewise," Jude laughs. "You know, I can't blame him for leaving us when he's going to be sharing an office with such a beautiful lady, like yourself. Intelligent, too, from what I hear. You're the only person in the world that makes Jake Mills sweat, did you know that?"
I look at Jake with raised eyebrows and a slightly smug smile. "I did not know that, tell me more!"
Jude continues with a diabolical smile in Jake's direction. "He makes the shittest excuses to go and skive upstairs. He gets all giddy and excited and he always comes back in a good mood."
"Okay, that's enough of that," Jake says, quickly interrupting Jude and ruining my fun.
They chat for a moment about a campaign they've been working on so I keep myself occupied by flipping through his portfolio, still smiling at the snippets of Jake revealed by Jude. I had no idea he was so talented. I knew he was good at his job, you just need to see the results he pulls in to know that, but I didn't know he could do all of this.
As I near the end of the book, I reach the personal stuff. I should probably stop looking but I don't. I'm taken aback by the portraits he's drawn. There are dozens of perfectly sketched pictures. There's an intricate sketch of his childhood home, each pencil mark placed exactly where it needs to be to capture its essence. There are beautiful hand drawn pictures of his parents and grandparents, a few of my mum and dad as well as James, Laura and others I don't know.
There is one of me too.
I recognise myself from a picture hanging in Mum and Dad's living room. I can't remember who took it but I know it's from the night I got engaged. I'm so young in this picture and I look incredibly happy. Seeing this drawing brings back the memories of that night, the love I felt. It brings back the excitement I had for the future when Philip, as nervous as he was, got down on one knee in front of our loved ones and asked me to spend the rest of my life with him. If only this girl knew the heartache that was to come, what life had in store for her.
I turn the page and my heart stops when I see the handsome face looking back at me. Philip's almond eyes stare up from the page in front of me, his full lips pulled in a wide grin. I can feel his cheeky demeanour shining from the page. It's so incredibly lifelike, perfect.
I run my fingers down the plastic cover protecting the drawing as emotion tries to take hold of me.
"So, Maggie, I'm glad you're both here because I actually wanted to talk to you both about something," Jude says, reminding me that he's here. I take a second to close the folder and get my shit together before I turn to face them.
"Sure," I say, taking a seat opposite Jake as he looks at me intensely. He knows what I saw. Jude doesn't seem to notice the shift in my mood.
"Well, since the news is being announced next week that you both are taking over the company, I thought it would be good to get you guys on our social so people can get an insight to what you do on a day-to-day basis. It would really help to create a genuine relationship with our followers."
"Will people even care about what we do daily?" Jake asks.
"Totally. People love seeing behind the scenes stuff and this is the perfect opportunity to expand our repertoire," he says dramatically.
"Sure," I say "It'll help appeal to a younger market. A lot of new companies are set up by the younger generations so maybe that’s an effective way to target them. You should speak to Lou in Web Design. Maybe link up the existing website and blog content so it's consistent with social."
"Speak to Thomas and Sasha, arrange a meeting with everyone for next week once you've all had chance to speak and get some content ideas down. We'll go from there."
"That's great. I'll start working on it right away." Jude pauses as he reaches the door to leave. "Before I go, are you coming to the King’s Arms tonight? That barmaid missed you on Friday. She was asking after you again."
"Not tonight, I've got plans"
The plans he is referring to is moving into our new office, something that I expected him to do during working hours but he insisted that we get a takeaway and bottle of wine. He’d suggested we do it after everyone has gone home for the day so we can get it sorted with no interruptions and, since I'm enjoying his company much more than I thought I would, I'm desperate to know more about him.
"Hot date, huh?” Jude says, laughing.
"Something like that," he says, flashing a smile my way which makes my cheeks burn.
***
Once everyone has left for the day, we start on the office move and it doesn't take too long before our office starts coming together. IT had already set up our computers and phones earlier this afternoon so all we had to do was connect our laptops and we were good to go with our technology.
We didn't think in advance about how we were going to move the countless books and files we have accumulated over the years, even though I was usually very pragmatic. Luckily, Jake has exceptional upper body strength and managed to lug all our boxes up two flights of stairs to our new floor.
Me? Well, I got to direct him, make sure he didn't trip, things like that. It wasn't an excuse to watch him use his muscles or anything, that was just a bonus.
The items which were too heavy to lift will need to be brought up another day but there is plenty of work for us to do with what we have.
The space we're moving to is much bigger than the floors we previously worked on and there's even enough room to have all our staff on the same floor for once. Jake had excitedly suggested the idea, claiming that ‘if we bring our teams together, not just management, we can increase productivity. They can get to know each other and where their strengths lie’. I had to agree with him; it is a great idea and there is more than enough room. Surprisingly, when we pitched it to everyone late this afternoon after the Stephenson’s Chocolate meeting, they were all excited. I thought one or two people might complain but no one did. I suppose there's something exciting about change, a new challenge, almost. New friends to be made and experiences to be had.
Working with Jake today was really refreshing too. Getting to see his processes was interesting and I loved meeting people I had heard so much about from him already. I
enjoyed the day much more that I imagined I ever would.
It gave me a better insight into myself too.
I've given him such a tough time about how he's treated me that I didn't realise how badly I have been treating him this whole time, too. There were lots of things that I should have noticed earlier, like why hadn't I noticed how passionate he is? Or how incredibly talented he is? It's the first time I've seen him as a leader, someone who inspires and motivates his staff and I'm ashamed to admit that I completely underestimated his abilities. Watching him interact with his staff highlighted how different our leadership styles are and how I can learn from having him around.
"You're going to regret the glass," Jake says, sitting cross legged on the floor next to me as I help him stack his uni text books alongside mine. The long bookcase that sits below our window is bulging with thousands of pounds worth of textbooks that were hardly used at uni and haven’t been opened since we graduated, yet neither of us can bear to part with them.
“And why is that?” I ask.
“Because you can’t hide from people when they’re looking for you to do shit you don’t want to do.”
“We’re in charge now, Jake. It doesn't matter if we don't want to do shit, we have to do it anyway."
"It's called delegating, Maggs. You should try it sometime, instead of shouldering the burden," he says, getting to his feet to fetch the wine bottle from my desk and joining me again on the floor.
"I know how to delegate," I say although it doesn't mean I'm particularly good at practicing what I preach. "Besides, it sends a good message to be accessible. I want people to see us as approachable," I say, taking in the large wall of glass with a set of double doors in the centre that separate our office from the main floor.
Jake empties the rest of the bottle into my mug, not making any attempt to argue his point.
"You're a bad influence on me already, Mr Mills. I don't usually drink on a school night."
"Think of it like this: You're a good influence on me so it evens itself out. Plus, we're drinking out of coffee mugs so we can pretend it's just coffee," he says, a mischievous smile tugs at his lips as he looks over his mug at me.
"In that case, let's cheers to our new home away from home," I say, clinking my cup to his.
"I'm sorry I didn't pre-warn you about the sketches," he says out of the blue. "I forgot they we're in there. I haven't looked at them for a long time."
"They we're beautiful, Jake. I had no idea you could draw like that"
"I haven't drawn for a while. I used to a lot. It's embarrassing how many pictures I've drawn of you all."
"I'd love to see more."
We sit on the floor, surrounded by boxes, for the next hour as we look through his sketches. There are more of his family and James, Laura and Philip, some based on photographs and some from memory. There are people I don't recognise at all and there are none of me. I can't help but wonder why.
"I'm not in here."
"Please don't think this is weird or creepy," he says as he reluctantly hands me a smaller A4 folder.
I take it from him and turn the pages. There are at least a dozen drawings in here, all of me.
"These are unfinished. I liked drawing you but I could never get it exactly right. There was always something missing," he says, looking through at the pages with me. I notice I look prettier in his drawings than I do in real life.
"This book was the hardest to draw. It might be difficult for you to see," he says, warning me before flicking through another sketchbook. He looks at it for a second, his ice blue eyes shining with emotion before he hands it to me. "I drew these in the hospital. James and I would spend hours a night with you. We came together because we were so scared to come alone, in case something happened to you. We'd always bring snacks, three of anything we thought you would like. Cake, crisps, chocolate. We would hold it under your nose to try and wake you up. When that didn't work, we would describe it to you in intense details as we ate whatever it was. Taste, texture, smell. It never worked but we still kept it up because we were willing to try anything to wake you up."
I look at the first drawing of Philip and me on our wedding day. It's beautiful. There are more like it, each one as stunning as the next, bringing tears to my eyes.
"You didn't come to the wedding." I say as I look at the pictures.
"Your mum showed me pictures. I wanted to draw one for her but, like I said, they weren't perfect."
I stop when I come to the last picture in the book; it's another one of me but, instead of it being a happy memory, it’s me in my hospital bed with my eyes closed. There is another person, drawn a few shades lighter than the rest of the picture, sat in the chair next to me. It’s Philip.
"Maggie, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," Jake says as the tears I am usually so good at controlling spill down my cheeks.
His arms are around me in a second, holding me tighter than ever before, comforting me like it's second nature for him. He doesn't speak as I sob into his chest, clinging onto his soft hoodie so tight that my fingertips turn white. He pulls me closer so I'm sat in his lap on the floor while he trails patterns on my back with his fingertips, stroking away my pain.
Eventually, I stop crying but I don't let go of him. I stay where I am, needing his strength to pull myself together again. This must be what my therapist meant when she warned me about my compartmentalising. Without warning, the box containing my grief flew open and spread its contents all over the floor for Jake to see.
"Thank you for showing me," I say, eventually, my voice still shaking slightly. "They're really beautiful. You're so talented."
I take one last look at the picture before I close the book and hand it back to Jake. I climb out of his embrace and dab my eyes with the sleeve of my jumper.
"Sorry for the slight breakdown," I say, unable to meet his eyes. "I didn't know it but I really needed that cry."
I excuse myself, leaving Jake to put away his sketch books and folders while I take myself to the loo so I can attempt to make myself look somewhat presentable again.
Despite Jake probably thinking I'm completely unstable, I take this as another win, another surprising insight into the man I thought I knew so well.
***
It's close to midnight when we finally finish unpacking our boxes. It took longer than anticipated due to the amount of laughing and carrying on we did when we opened the second bottle of wine after my emotional outburst.
It reminded me of being at uni when me, Philip, Laura and Harry would insist on working on an assignment late at night because we were sure to be more productive at that time. Instead, we’d end up playing with the green screen in the computer suite, pretending to be under water or on a roller coaster. We'd drink can after can of cheap, home brand energy drinks, eating food that wasn't good for us and spend hours swinging around on swivel chairs until our faces hurt from laughing so much.
When Jake and I finally decide it's best to go home for the evening and get a few hours’ sleep, we take a moment to ourselves and stand in the doorway. His arm sits around my shoulder while I wrap both arms around his waist, holding on tightly and taking it all in. The large, open workspace is ready and waiting for our excited teams as is our own beautiful, shiny office. On the left is my desk, meticulously organised with my ergonomic chair and rows upon rows of filing cabinets, each organised alphabetically and colour coded.
On the right is Jake’s desk. For the moment, it's neat and tidy but even he doesn't expect that to last long. ‘Organised chaos’, he likes to call it. His beat-up, old drawing table that his dad bought him as a graduation present stands in the corner next to the white boards that he had brought up from his old office.
It's as if two worlds that have no business being together have collided, trivial things that don't usually exist together, co-existing perfectly. Almost like the two of us.
"I don't know about you but I can't wait to come in to work tomorrow," he says, pulling me in tigh
ter and kissing the top of my head, an action which feels so natural now. I can't help but beam up at him.
"Our Uber is here," I say as the app pings in my pocket. I don't make any attempt to move from his warm embrace. Where I would usually insist on making a fast dash so as not to make the driver wait any longer than necessary, I choose to enjoy the moment with Jake and it seems like he had the same idea too.
CHAPTER FIVE
The first week in our new office went by in the blink of an eye. As well as spending the week learning the ropes, we also had to fit in work on our other projects which hasn't left much time for anything else. Dad and Ray finished up, officially leaving me and Jake in charge as of 5 pm Thursday. It was a daunting prospect to face.
"It's the end of one era and the beginning of another," Dad had said as they joined us in our office, holding a rather expensive bottle of champagne. "Don't be afraid to take risks or make mistakes. It's all part of learning."
"And look after each other," Ray added before proposing a toast. "Here's to you both enjoying the same, if not more, success than we did."
I was sad when they walked out of the building for the last time. I had learnt so much from them over the years and owed them so much more. I saw their smiling faces as they left to start their new, more relaxed lives and I was glad that they were still best friends after 40 years of working together. One day, I hoped to see Jake and I do the same, knowing we’d made the right choices and took the right path together.
Each day this week, a new group of people had joined us in our new, top floor office and their faces always expressed the same emotions. There was excitement over mixing with their colleagues that they usually wouldn't see, wonder as they looked out of the glass wall overlooking the Thames. From this level, you can see for miles across London and it really is a remarkable sight, even in the gloomy January rain. Natural light floods the room, resulting in a feeling that I can only describe as fresh and freeing.
