Nudge 2 The Reintroduction #2
It is then, for the first time today, that I catch my entire outfit in the mirrored door.
It is worse than I feared. Far more juvenile and bordering on offensive to the eyes.
As I tug at the eight-year-old velvet skater skirt, I pray it might bring some maturity or at least some decency, but it still hangs obscenely, the hem ending two or so inches from my crotch (if I’m being generous).
I subtly twist to the left, trying to catch my side view in the reflection without raising eyebrows from Pippa or Gus, but, as I move, the silly, stiff collar rubs at my neck, scratching a tiny mark by my collarbone.
I need to focus. Turn my anxious thoughts to the exact way Anton will pay for his crimes against my wardrobe, and away from whatever Oliver and Maxwell could possibly want with us. Also, more importantly, why Pippa went to such lengths to keep the meeting a secret from me in the process.
‘There’s my favourite team!’ Maxwell gives a cheer as we walk through the door. ‘How’s it going down in Events and Project Management?’
‘Great as always!’ Pippa flashes her most winning smile.
‘Great to hear!’ he says, clasping his hands together. ‘Take a seat, take a seat.’
I shuffle around the table and into a seat as quickly as I can, hiding the belt of a skirt under the boardroom table before anyone else has a chance to clock it, but they barely acknowledge Gus and I as we sit.
My stomach churns, pushing against the cheap blouse as the buttons start to close in.
I can’t help it – in my four years of working here, we’ve never all met with them at once.
Something has got to be up and the sooner we find out, the sooner I can stop feeling so queasy.
Maxwell glances over to Oliver, who takes a painfully slow sip of his coffee, revelling in the quiet as the rest of us wait on his every move.
‘Do you all know who Evie Eesuola is?’ Oliver asks eventually.
‘Everyone knows Evie!’ My exclamation is meant to come off as cool, but it’s more of an involuntary, awkward laugh.
I can’t help it, I’m pumped full of adrenaline from the nerves, and the relief that the first topic of discussion isn’t firing us all.
Maybe that’s why I’m met with staunch silence.
I look from Pippa to Gus, who seem completely thrown by the question, and even more by my spontaneous and bubbly answer.
‘The lifestyle blogger turned business mogul?’ I continue, starting to doubt myself.
‘Ridiculous numbers on socials . . . ? Recently got her own TV show?’
I thought that everyone had heard of Evie Eesuola.
It’s impossible not to have at least seen her name.
She is a Black woman in a field dominated by white blondes; she sticks out like a sore thumb, but she makes that thumb the best finger.
But the way Gus and Pippa are staring back at me, it’s clear they’re encountering a blind spot.
A very specific and somewhat telling blind spot, if I say so myself.
‘Oh, yes, of course, that Evie! I totes love her.’ Pippa blags her way through without an ounce of authenticity.
‘Good’ says Oliver. ‘Well, I don’t know if you’ve seen, but she’s created a travel-tailored loungewear line as part of her business—’
‘Evielution!’ I say excitedly. ‘She launched it a couple of years ago. It’s stocked by most high-end retailers.’
Oliver nods. ‘Yes. And now she’s launching a luggage line to go with it. A luggage line that she has signed on to release with us.’
‘No way!’ I gasp.
‘It’s our biggest brand collaboration to date.’ Maxwell beams. ‘Working with Evie could open a new set of doors for us.’
Pippa claps her hands. ‘That’s an awesome get, guys! Where do we come in?’
‘With the Summer Splash, the annual July extravaganza she holds at her place. I’m sure you’ve seen them in the tabloids – big production, flashy décor, real expensive.
This year she wants to use it to launch the new range and we’ve convinced her to give our events team a chance before outsourcing,’ Oliver says.
‘If she’s impressed with what we do with her launch, it could lead to future collaborations and events with her and, in time, her large network of rich friends. ’
‘We would be honoured to plan it.’ Pippa’s cheeks have reached their limit with just how far they can stretch into a smile.
‘Good to hear it.’ Oliver nods approvingly.
‘We’ve arranged a meeting next Friday to survey her grounds and figure out exactly what she wants from us, and we want you all there so we can show her that we are a friendly and united front.
In the meantime, Evie has popped in to say a quick hello.
She likes to meet large suppliers in person. ’
‘She’s here?’ Pippa straightens herself in her seat.
‘On her way up as we speak. I trust you’ll all give her a proper Abbingtorn welcome.’
Only a man like Oliver would think it non-sociopathic to spring this on us last minute.
Pippa’s putting on a front and Gus is trying to bottle his worry, but it’s clear they’re both more than ready to blow.
They may not know exactly who she is, but they know that she’s important and needs to be impressed, and that’s enough to rattle them both to their core.
I’d revel in the irony and the fact they now know how I felt having this meeting sprung on me, but, unfortunately, I’m right there with them.
Evie Eesuola, trendsetter and absolute fashion icon, is about to walk through those glass doors and I am in a crumpled skater skirt with my hair in a bedraggled bun.
There’s a light tap on the door and Maxwell shoots out of his chair.
‘Evie, welcome!’ he says, as the rest of us look on in awe.
I know Evie Eesuola is gorgeous – I’ve followed her online for years – but in person she is ethereal.
She exudes glamour and elegance with each miniscule movement, every eyelash in place and every wisp of an edge laid.
Her glittered French tips catch the light as she extends her hand to shake Maxwell’s, creating a small kaleidoscope of colours on the white office wall.
‘So nice to meet in person! This must be the team you told me so much about.’ The words tinkle as she speaks and scans our faces intently.
She pauses when she gets to me, a fleeting but genuine smile flicking across her face as I twitch nervously and adjust the stupid collar digging into my neck.
I know she must be disgusted by the outfit.
I try to make it clear I hate it too with a subtle, self-deprecating grimace, but there’s only so much you can do while being completely starstruck.
‘These three are our events and project management team, who will take your Summer Splash to new heights. This is our head of department, Pippa, her assistant, Maddison, and our junior project manager, Gus.’
‘Nice to meet you, Pippa, Gus, Maddison!’ She nods at us in turn. ‘I’m Evie.’
‘We know!’ Pippa lies through her lying teeth.
‘I never like to assume.’ She smiles softly. ‘Thanks for taking some time to meet me today. I know some companies can be quite weird about last minute pop-ins, but we just wanted to put some faces to names before the whole formal meeting next week.’
‘It’s never a bother here at Abbingtorn,’ Oliver says, strolling over to shake her hand. ‘I’m Oliver by the way – Managing Director. It’s lovely to meet you both ahead of next week.’
Oliver’s eyes flick past Evie to acknowledge the stone-faced, casually dressed man standing next to her.
I hadn’t even noticed him in my Evie-induced trance and now, as I digest the sight of him properly, I feel my blood run ice-cold.
He stands there, tall in a crisp white T-shirt, a pair of soft black trousers and a silver chain.
It’s simple, effortless, and yet anything but plain, accentuating his defined chest and muscular arms without trying.
His face has changed ever so slightly, more chiselled and dignified with age, but the way he makes my stomach turn on itself remains the same all these years later.
‘Nice to meet you, Oliver! I’m Evie, as you know, and this is my talent manager—’
‘Aiden Edwards,’ I murmur under my breath, the name tasting like pure venom on my tongue.
But I’m not quiet enough. The words ring out across the room and bounce off the walls as clear as day.
His deep-brown eyes reach my face and flick up and down as he takes me in slowly.
He doesn’t move – he doesn’t have to – the raised hairs on my arms and my racing heart are enough.
I feel like I’ve seen a ghost, which is fair because as far as I was concerned, he was well and truly dead to me.