Chapter 6
‘Simone. Come in. Shut the door.’
Tony Dixon was reclining in his leather office chair, his lower shirt buttons straining under the pressure of his gelatinous belly. The morning sun streaming in made his gossamer thin hair look like a dirty brown aura. He had a face that even the most committed pacifist would gladly punch.
‘Good golfing trip?’ she asked.
‘Good enough to secure the Coral project. The full brief will be in next week.’
His ruddy complexion was even redder than usual. No surprises that he hadn’t used sun cream: he was the type of man who thought his wealth afforded him immunity from everything, even a burning hot ball of gas a million times the size of the planet they were on.
‘So, when are you going to make me a director?’
She had worked for Tony for six years. In that time, she’d earned the company more money annually than any other account handler in its history, as well as won countless awards for creativity and effectiveness.
‘No one deserves to be promoted more than you, Simone.’
‘Great.’
His calf-leather chair groaned as he leaned forward. ‘But I’m afraid there’s a complication.’
‘Which is?’
‘There’s been a report of bullying.’
That was hardly surprising. The place was essentially a high-functioning bear pit, with regular bollockings from the bosses being the norm.
‘Which one of you is it against?’ she asked, not entirely sure what it had to do with her promotion.
‘You.’ He pointed his pen at her.
‘Very funny.’ She was firm with her team, but also fair.
‘Not that funny. It’s Oliver.’
What the fuck? What was the little toerag playing at now?
‘You’re kidding me.’
‘He said you’ve refused to assist him when requested, and deliberately excluded him from after-work socials.’
‘That’s because he’s a lazy, boring asshole!’
Tony half-smiled. ‘And what about verbal abuse?’
‘He does exactly the same to me. Yesterday I politely asked him why he hadn’t sent me the action notes from the Glennich meeting, despite my asking three times. He came right up into my face and shouted that I was “making a fucking mountain out of a molehill, was it my time of the month?” This was in front of my team.’
‘He said you’d mention that. He told me it was a joke.’
‘And what if I said what he’s accusing me of was a joke?’
‘You can’t expect me to dismiss a colleague’s claims out of hand. Imagine if it happened to you.’
‘It does!’
There was a steadily building pressure at the back of her skull, like someone was grabbing her hair from behind and slowly and deliberately wrapping it around their fist.
‘If you get so upset by these jokes?—’
‘He isn’t joking.’
‘Then why didn’t you report it?’
She gave him an exasperated look. Like Tony gave the slightest shit about bullying in the workplace. He’d be the one on the sidelines, cheering it on.
‘Just cut to the chase. Are you saying I’m not getting promoted because Oliver’s pretending to be a snowflake?’
Tony came round to sit on the corner of the desk in front of her. His crotch was at eye level and his flies weren’t done up properly. She edged her chair back.
‘I’m saying it’s no longer a one-horse race. He’s shown that he’s prepared to play dirty. He’s trying to mess with your head.’
‘You make it sound like a good thing,’ she said.
‘Isn’t it? He’s hungry. He’s ruthless. This industry isn’t for the faint-hearted.’
‘But you promised me?—’
‘Shush now. Don’t be such a baby. You know very well he brought in a huge account this quarter.’
‘You mean his father-in-law? It’s not like he had to go out of his way.’
How did she end up here? These were people who would sell their granny to their other granny and make the first granny pay a commission on the sale of herself.
‘But on paper it stacks up. His billings aren’t much shy of yours and he gets glowing testimonials from his client.’
‘Again, his father-in-law.’
‘And he has a lot of connections.’
‘Hah!’ she barked.
This is what it always came back to: sodding connections. She could grind for the rest of her life, but without an old boys’ network to tap into, she’d always be left having to put up with pudding-pulling wankers to try and even out the score.
Tony picked up a ruler from his desk and absent-mindedly tapped it against his palm. ‘I like you, Simone. You’re like the daughter I never had.’
‘You have a daughter.’
‘But she’s not smart like you are. Listen. You know what Oliver does. He makes stories about people go away. But he’s shown he can also make them appear. Be careful, that’s all I’m saying.’
This was too much. She got out of her seat and scanned the office.
‘Where is the floppy-haired fucktard?’
‘He’s at a meeting.’
Oliver was nowhere to be seen, but at that moment Clarence ‘Ghastly’ Astley passed by. She shivered. He was the physical opposite of Tony, all pinched and skeletal, like Death in an expensive suit. No ageing portrait in the attic for him, but probably a rotten soul that not even the Devil had wanted. His only redeeming feature was that he’d never hit on her, but that was out of sexual preference rather than gentlemanly honour, so it wasn’t much of a recommendation.
‘And Clarence likes him,’ Tony was saying. ‘He’s got the creepy old bastard on side.’
There was no love lost between the two partners, but as long as they were making oodles of money, they were happy to put aside their personal differences.
‘So, what happens now? Am I being disciplined?’
He slapped the ruler against his palm. ‘Would you like me to discipline you?’
She shook her head. If the irony in this office got any thicker, she’d choke on it.
‘You’re really going there, huh?’
‘I’m kidding! Honestly, who made you the head of the fun police? Besides, there’s no procedure in place for bullying.’
‘That’s reassuring.’
‘If we had to investigate every time someone got shouted at, the whole operation would grind to a standstill. Just watch your back.’
‘I can handle Oliver.’
‘We’ll review in a month. Right, get out, I have a conference call.’
She picked up her notebook.
‘And Simone. Finchley got in touch. The account is yours. Said he’s really looking forward to seeing more of you.’ He winked.
She headed to the toilets, sat in a cubicle, and put her now throbbing head in her hands. That douchebag Oliver. He’d done nothing but make life difficult since his arrival, but this was an escalation. Should she leave as Wei had suggested? Do her own thing? She’d considered it, but there were contractual covenants in place that meant she’d be stuck working for tiny clients and tiny budgets, and there were loads of people already doing that with whom she’d need to compete. Nope, better the devil you know. Oliver’s little prank hadn’t actually got her into trouble, and the promotion could still be won on merit. It was just going to be harder than she’d envisaged. She needed to keep her head down, her nose clean, and her eyes open.