Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
S o far so good, I thought, as I stepped into the foyer. I’d taken several Nurofen and was holding a large skinny cappuccino. It was eight forty-five am, a perfectly respectable hour to arrive at work. I walked up the stairs, past the offices and into the studio.
‘Hey.’ Mara handed me a job sheet. ‘Watch out. Graeme’s on the warpath, again .’
‘Really? Is he here?’
‘No, he called from the car. So much for our bonding session last night.’
Inwardly, I cringed as I tried to remember. My recollection was Mara stayed for dinner and then went home.
‘Good night?’
Confident my behaviour was acceptable up to that point, I said, ‘Yeah. It was fun.’
‘It’s just the next morning you have to worry about, hey?’
What did she mean? Did Mara know? Had Graeme told her?
I looked at the list as I walked out of the studio and into the kitchen ready to complete my first job of the day: preparing Graeme’s coffee for when he arrived. I was a bloody chore whore, that’s all I was! I knew my job revolved around saving Graeme time, but why couldn’t he buy his own coffee from Tribeca across the street like everyone else or, better yet, plunge his own? Maybe he wouldn’t still expect it after… Maybe from now on, I’d be relieved of coffee-making responsibilities.
‘Mademoiselle.’ I swung around. Coco. ‘You and the fiend were certainly flourishing when I vamoosed last night.’
My eyes widened and my palms were suddenly itchy. I was too hungover to decipher her words. ‘Pardon?’
‘Did you have a courteous spell? It vexed me to abandon you with the ogre, but you and Graeme were having a right old hootenanny without the folk music. I told you he had a way with the ladies.’
Without waiting for a reply, she walked out, the happy click of her high heels echoing down the corridor.
It was going to be okay. It wasn’t yet nine o’clock but at least I’d seen Coco and Mara. They appeared normal. It wasn’t like I’d taken my clothes off and tap danced on tabletops. I sipped my coffee, rubbed my aching head and walked back into the studio.
I sat at the utilities bench and reread Graeme’s job sheet instructions. Curt. Short. No niceties to indicate last night had meant anything to him. Excellent. I didn’t want our relationship to change. Excuse me, was I still drunk? What relationship?!
‘Kate, you okay?’
I looked up to see Fern’s furrowed brow.
‘Sorry I left when you were in the middle of everything, but I had to be home by eight. You know how it is.’
Everything?
‘I’m sorry if I chewed your ear, Fern. I didn’t mean anything by it. Birthday anxiety, I guess.’ I hoped I sounded plausible because I couldn’t exactly remember our conversation. ‘And Christmas,’ I added, as an afterthought.
‘Still, I’m worried about the extra pressure I’ve put on you, especially at this time of year. If it’s all too much, I’ll understand. I know how difficult it is to juggle work and family.’
This coming from Superwoman. My temples throbbed and my eyelids felt heavy. I shrank inside myself. Fern could manage Delicious Bites and Graeme, as well as several other magazines and two extra children. What had I said to her over dinner?
‘And working with Graeme? He is prone to brain explosions…’
Understatement, I thought, recalling our chat about creatives and negative moods.
‘But don’t worry about upsetting him. I meant what I said about the digital Christmas campaign. I should have spoken with you about it on your first day, but—’ She shook her head. ‘You’ve gathered life at Image Ink is chaotic at best? You’ll be in charge. That is, if you still want it?’
‘Yes. Great.’ I had no idea what she was talking about.
‘Cool. Four weeks until the big day. We kick off next Tuesday, December first.’ She laughed. ‘Remember, food doesn’t need to be the star. I’ve assigned Chef Dana to support with the Christmas cuisine you require and accompanying easy-to-follow reader recipes. She’s an absolute breeze. And so long as your daily nativity calendar screams Christmas and summer sunshine, it’ll be a smash.’ Beaming, with a thumbs up gesture of approval, Fern turned to leave, then stopped. ‘And we’re still on for Saturday night?’
My mind was blank.
‘You, me, Terry and Matthew? Dinner? My house?’
I vaguely remembered making dinner plans.
I nodded and Fern departed.
What the hell was the digital nativity calendar I’d agreed to shoot and post every day? Every day up to, and including Christmas? Lordy!
Deep breaths. I’d worry about that tomorrow. Right now, I needed to let go of whatever embarrassment happened last night with Graeme and move on from this unfortunate business. I busied myself checking the white balance and aimlessly waved around the exposure meter, frequently glancing at the doorway, waiting for Graeme to arrive.
Despite my hangover and my insides quivering, I felt a growing sense of excitement. For now, I was assisting Graeme, doing the set-ups and taking test shots, but next week, I’d also be the genius snapping the pivotal frames.
Finally, I heard his voice.
Adjusting my clothes, I hurried into the kitchen, turned the kettle on and watched, willing the water to boil faster. Checking his cup was clean (for the tenth time) and the sugar cubes had not dissolved, I turned to the plunger. Were exactly three level tablespoons of ground coffee sitting at the bottom? Check. I tapped the kettle.
He walked straight past the kitchen and into the studio, where he said something to Mara. I couldn’t distinguish the words.
Carelessly, I sloshed two and a half cups of boiling water into the plunger and was away. I arrived at the studio as Mara was departing.
‘Hey.’ I placed his coffee before him.
He grunted and continued inspecting test images.
Excuse me? Was he ignoring me?
I waited a bit longer. ‘I’ve finished everything on the list.’ Nothing. He didn’t even look at me. What exactly did he have to be ashamed about? It’s not as if he had a wife and two children. ‘Everything okay?’ I persisted.
‘Listen, babe, I know you want me and hey, I wish I felt the same, really. If I could help you out I would, but it’s not happening for me. Plus, there’s the whole Robyn saga. ’
‘But—’ I was outraged. Wanting him to help me out was absolutely the last thing on my mind. And what Robyn saga?
‘Easy, tiger. You won’t get me to change my mind by throwing a tantrum and pouting. It’s not going to happen. You’re nice enough, but not my type. What’s the line from that movie? Oh yeah: I’m just not that into you . So how about you sparkle those lenses?’ He pointed to several on a nearby bench.
‘Thanks, but I’d rather hammer nails into my skull,’ I said, except no sound came out. Humiliation pulsed through every vein in my body. I felt worthless and pathetic. Not to mention mortified Graeme could think that (a) I was attracted to him, and (b) I planned to sleep with him. I was the one who’d made the mistake. I was the one who’d responded to the inappropriate attention he’d paid me.
Twenty minutes later, I’d finished cleaning all but one lens when Matthew called. ‘I left you messages. Did you end up having a fun birthday? Pip said you went out with people from the magazine.’
‘Fern,’ I replied.
‘How’s Lexi?’
‘Lexi?’
‘Yes, Lexi… our daughter.’
Mum told. He knew something.
‘Kate, what’s the matter with you? Pip said Lexi was too sick to come to the phone last night. Did you take her to the doctor? Is she all right?’
‘She’s fine. A slight tummy bug. She went to school happily enough this morning.’
‘Nothing else?’
If you really want to know, I got pissed and made an idiot of myself while Lexi was at home showing off to her friends by skolling vodka and orange. ‘Nothing else. We miss you.’