Chapter 16 D.I.E
Amity
I would have been perfectly content avoiding any place that put me in the vicinity of Lincoln.
What agitates me even more is the fact that this building should make me feel like I belong. My dad took part in building it from the ground up, and I spent more afternoons here growing up than I can count.
I trace the vintage photo of Dad, me, Uncle Jacob, Lincoln and Jas hanging on the wall from when we first opened. It’s part of a collection that marks indelible milestones that make up the history of the company.
Feeling a melancholic smile grace my lips, I peer at Uncle Jacob, holding a baby Jas in his arms while Lincoln and I are holding hands in front.
My freaking name is on the damn building, yet standing here just inside the front reception feels foreign, like I’m a stranger in my own home.
I don’t expect any of the newbies will connect the dots that I’m the daughter of the Managing Director, but I’m prepared for people to recognise my notoriety.
Fortunately, I know the building like the back of my hand. My heart is in my throat as I duck and weave past reception, begging every god in the universe to help me evade Billie. She isn’t here, so it’s easy to slip past, but my anxiety and apprehension are reaching Jodie-Foster-level panic at the prospect of coming face-to-face with her again.
It is unbelievable that the temp agency placed her at my dad’s business, conveniently where her ex-boyfriend works. I must be owed some serious bad karma for all these convenient events to line up while I’m in town.
Since the last time I was here—which is going back a good seven or so years—the interior has undergone a few facelifts to keep in line with next-generation trends. Immediately, I’m drawn to my new favourite feature—the green wall. When it was installed, Dad was so excited to tell me, he explained in intricate detail every morsel of the wall, which is seventy square metres and contains approximately 4,500 plants.
The length of it provides a peaceful pathway towards the architect end of the office, which is where Dad and Uncle Jacob’s offices reside. Calming, ambient music infiltrates throughout the office which, to my delight, is relatively bare.
‘Can I help you, hon?’ A girl about my age pops out, making me clutch at my chest. She exudes a bubbliness that radiates her entire aura. As I open my mouth to quietly explain who I am, she lets out a fan-girling squeal, reaching for my hand as if we’re best friends. ‘Oh my gosh, you’re Amity!!!! I love you so much. What are you doing here? Are you real? I’m not asleep, and you’re not a dream or a ghost, right?’ Normally, stalkerish fans like this would slightly freak me out, but her excitement makes me giggle. She’s still clutching my hand, bouncing on the spot, and I can’t help but throw my head back and giggle at her very over-the-top reaction. ‘I’m Daniella, but people call me Ella. I work here in the marketing department,’ she shares. ‘No, but seriously, what are you doing here?’ Once I’m certain she’s finished, her eyes open like saucers, penetrating my face.
I quickly glance around and am relieved that no one else is watching this exchange. I really don’t know what to respond to first. I know Dad is supremely proud of my achievements, but I don’t think he’s necessarily shouted them from the rooftops and told each and every one of his staff that we’re related. My social media presence is wide, but information about my personal life is sparse.
‘Hi, Ella. I really don’t know how to say this, but, um, Mark Hartford is my dad.’ She gasps before a stinging sound bounces throughout the room. Both hands are slapped to the side of her cheeks. ‘And I should probably add that Jacob Hayes is pretty much my second dad.’ I bite my lip to stifle a giggle from seeing her eyebrows disappear to the top of her forehead.
‘Shut up!’
‘I’m just here to pick up some papers for Dad from Uncle Jacob’s office, so I was hoping to get in and out without many people noticing.’
‘I can’t. What? This can’t be real.’ Looking at the ground, I can tell she’s trying not to let her head explode. I don’t know how to exit from this amusing encounter, so I wait until she’s ready to excuse me. I wait. And wait. And wait some more. Putting her out of her misery, I ask her what I know she’s too embarrassed to ask me herself.
‘Would you like a photo?’
Her face lights up comically like she’s Ronald McDonald.
‘Oh my God. Yes!’
‘Let’s take it where the green wall is. Better background.’ I usher her closer to the backdrop.
‘Are you sure?’
I nod enthusiastically. ‘Absolutely.’
‘I promise I won’t tag where we are. I’m pretty sure I could get fired for this.’
‘It’s fine. I’m happy to do it.’
She squishes in nice and close to me as if we’ve been best friends forever and starts tapping the photo button with her thumb. In truth, I’m grateful for this interruption, because I was feeling uncomfortable the further I wandered down the hallway.
‘Thank you so much, Amity.’ She flicks through the myriad of photos. ‘I’m going to go now, before I embarrass myself further.’ It’s only then that I feel her brain has caught up with the last five minutes. She’s bashfully looking at the ground.
‘Was so nice meeting you.’ I pull her in for a hug, hoping her bouncy energy from before will transfer to my body for the rest of this visit. With one last sweet smile, she skips away, leaving me to continue on to Uncle Jacob’s office.
‘Wait!’ She stops me in my tracks. I freeze, turning around.
‘I just want to say your dad and Jacob are the best bosses to work for. I really like working here. Hope your dad is feeling better. We all heard about his accident.’
It’s such a small sentiment, but it touches me deeply. There’s no doubt in my mind that Dad and Uncle Jacob have created a remarkable workplace and culture. The fact that someone from my generation feels the urge to let me know speaks volumes about the types of people they hire. Except for two.
‘They’re my two favourite men in the world.’ With that, I go to leave.
‘Oh, oh. If you know Jacob, you’d know his son then? Lincoln? He works here now. I think he’s still here.’ I go rigid at her words and try with all my might to act like they don’t skewer me like a shishkabob.
‘Oh. Well, we’ll see,’ I say, stumbling away.
As I round the corner, I see my first nightmare materialise in front of me. Billie is sauntering towards me in a slutty red dress and giraffe-like platforms. The vision of her is jarring, as the rest of the employees I passed were dressed business casual or in business attire.
What draws my attention the most is how dishevelled she looks. Her hair is mussed and her dress is cinched up her thighs. Centimetres higher and I’ll be able to see her underwear—if she’s even wearing any.
She stops short when she sees me, her mouth leering into a sneer. ‘Well, if it isn’t Gold Coast’s golden girl, returning to greet us lowly peasants with her presence,’ she snickers.
I honestly don’t know what I ever did to her for her to detest me so much.
‘If you’re looking for Lincoln, I just came from his office. He needed…help with something.’ There’s a wicked gleam in her eyes as she wipes around her mucked up lips and glides her hand down her rumpled dress.
My stomach lurches and I sway slightly on the spot at how Billie emphasised the last vulgar part of her sentence. There isn’t a piece of furniture in my reach to prevent me from fainting should I need to. So much for his earnest little text messages and professions.
Speaking of the devil, Lincoln stalks from his office, the same direction Billie appeared from. His eyes frantically seek mine, rushing towards me as he calls my name.
Taking in his appearance, I’m repulsed. I’m nauseated. I’m revolted.
The strands on his head look as if fingers have recently raked through them—classic french-tipped ones, I bet—and his face is flush. It’s the sight of a man who has recently run a marathon or had an intense sexual release not too long ago.
As he steps closer, I notice something else about him. A smudged red lipstick mark stains the corner of his jaw—the same coat and colour currently painting Billie’s mouth.
My stomach flip flops inside, the urge to throw up threatening to occur at any moment. I turn my eyes down in disgust, thinking about how I can escape this awful situation.
‘I should have known,’ I accidentally murmur, shaking my head in utter dismay, my eyes fluttering up momentarily to dash between the two of them and their scruffy appearance.
‘What?’ Lincoln says in confusion, looking down at himself and glancing at Billie before a look of horror crosses his face. ‘No!’ He’s wild with panic. ‘It’s not what you think, Hart.’ He goes to grab my arm, but I anticipate his move and yank it back.
‘Don’t touch me,’ I hiss, very aware of not making a scene at the place my dad owns.
‘Billie, for God’s sake, tell Amity that nothing happened.’ He turns desperately to her, and she looks like she’s the cat who caught the cream. Instead of validating what he’s saying, she smirks.
I wish I wasn’t famous because if I was a nobody, I would kick him in the balls and tear Billie’s stupid fucking fake extensions from her skull.
Rather than engage in this spectacle any further, I calmly find the right words to leave. ‘I’m going to get some files from Uncle Jacob’s office. Won’t be long.’
Once again, I’m humiliated, heartbroken and gullible. Lincoln has never and will never change.