Chapter 27
London
The week is extremely strange.
Alexander seems very cold and distant. On top of that, Stephanie is here every afternoon, briefly greeting me before disappearing cheerfully into Alexander's office.
I fear the worst...
I suspect the two of them are having an affair.
And yes, I'm jealous. Angry. Hurt.
I'd love to interfere, storm into his office and tell him what a miserable cheater he is. She's married! To his best friend! Couldn't he have chosen Stephanie before she got married? And what was I then? Just a replacement? A temporary solution? A convenient opportunity?
Did I just imagine everything? What about the trip to the field, with the starry sky? No one has ever done anything so romantic for me before...
My probation ends next week, and I haven't received an offer for a contract yet. Not even a discussion.
It's good that I have plans with Mr. Volt tonight. If the conversation goes well, I'll be able to resign next week to start my job there.
Maybe that's why Stephanie is here? Is she supposed to take my place? That would make sense.
I stop by Alexander’s office before leaving. "Need anything else before I go?"
"Thanks, no. I have everything. You can leave." He smiles faintly. "Have a nice evening."
"Thanks, you too." That’s all. My heart breaks. But maybe I needed this to be able to leave. I mean, to actually leave. Not just for the evening, but forever.
I wander into the kitchen, look around, and get a bit nostalgic. The melancholy hits me harder than I thought, but that's just how it is. And this is only the kitchen...
When I return to my desk, it hurts to shut down the computer and switch the phone to the main center. I'll be back on Monday, but the thought that this will be my last week weighs heavily.
I take the elevator down, say goodbye to the security team for the weekend, and then get into my car.
Mr. Volt sent me an email earlier with specific instructions about when and where our meeting will take place.
He warned me in advance that it wouldn't be at his company, but probably in a restaurant.
He wrote that he likes to handle such conversations somewhere pleasant.
I sincerely hope he's not going to hit on me.
It would be really nice if I was hired based on my skills, and not because I'm expected to be constantly available for sex.
When I get home, I open the email that arrived just minutes before. It states exactly what to do:
- Choose an elegant evening outfit. Preferably black or red, long and feminine, not too revealing.
He also sends me the address of a well-known upscale restaurant downtown. He explains that I should ask for him at reception, and the staff would then lead me to the reserved table.
It would be very good if I arrived at exactly 9.
Since I assume punctuality is very important to him, I'm careful not to arrive too early.
"Turn around," Vanessa says during our video call. It’s only 7, but of course I want to look perfect and be on time. I still haven’t found the ideal dress.
"Isn’t red too flashy? I don’t know… I’d prefer the black one."
The red feels too bright, the burgundy too somber. The black is timeless, classic. "I’ll try on the black dress again."
"Yes, show me again. I need to see the comparison."
I dash out of the frame, toss the red gown onto the bed, and slip back into the black one. It has a beautiful sweetheart neckline, off-the-shoulder cut, and a tailored waist. It’s full skirt that makes a striking impression.
"I thought I could put my hair up," I say, gathering it into a bun.
"No, wear it down. With your hair up, you look too severe—and too old."
"I’d rather meet him in his office. Skirt, blouse, blazer. Simple. Does it really have to be in such a fancy restaurant?"
I don't feel entirely comfortable with where this meeting is taking place.
"As a PA, he might be testing how far you’ll go—if you’re presentable, if you have good manners, that kind of thing," she says, raising her orange juice in a toast.
"Okay. Hair down. Gold jewelry? What do you think?" I hold up a necklace and earrings.
"Oh yes, I like those."
"And this bag?" I show her a black clutch with a gold emblem.
"Yes, I like that too. Add blood-red lipstick and a little eyeliner."
"Red lipstick? I don’t know…"
"With a black dress, it’s an absolute MUST!"
If she insists, fine. I try it on, fix my hair, fasten the necklace, and slip in the earrings.
"Well?" I turn back and forth until I see her grin.
"That’s it. Perfect!"
If she’s this thrilled, then surely Mr. Volt will be impressed too.
I take a taxi to the restaurant. I could drive myself, but I’m far too nervous and don’t want to risk an accident. This way I can also text Vanessa and let her distract me a bit.
Nessa: And what will you do if he wants something from you?
Me: Look for another job. I’m not going through that again.
Nessa: And what if he’s hot?
Me: Doesn’t matter. I just want to do a good job. And meet someone in a different setting. That thing with Alex was stupid—my fault. Why did I develop feelings for him? Oh well…
Nessa: What if he wanted everyone at the boxing club to know you belonged to him?
Me: What do you mean?
Nessa: Well, you're pretty desirable there, but now that he's hooked up with you, the others know you're his and leave you alone. This way you can train there without anyone hitting on you senselessly.
Me: I don’t know if that was his intention…
Nessa: In my head it makes sense :)
Me: Many things make sense in your head, my dear ;) I’m here now. Wish me luck!
She hearts my last message just as the driver stops. I had him circle the block so I wouldn’t arrive too early.
I pay and get out. After the meeting, I'll head back home, then straight to Vanessa's to spend the night there.
I walk toward the impressive entrance guarded by security. Not everyone gets here. Being under their eyes makes me nervous.
At the reception, I check in: "Good evening. London Waverley. I have an appointment with Mr. Volt." I glance at my watch: six minutes left. "I need to be at his table at 9:00 sharp. How long will it take to get there?"
The young man looks surprised, checks his book, and finds my name. "Ah yes, here you are. Good evening, Miss Waverley. Mr. Volt is already expecting you." He pauses, then adds: "The table is in our lounge. At most twenty seconds away."
I glance at my gold wristwatch. It looks nice though it only cost eighty pounds in a sale. Such a steal!
"Can we see the table from here?" I ask.
"No, it’s further back in a separate room."
"Is there a door?"
"Yes, Miss Waverley."
Perfect.
"Then please take me there. I’ll wait outside so I can knock exactly at 9:00." He looks puzzled.
"Mr. Volt insists on it."
By the time I’ve explained, the six minutes are nearly gone and I’ll be late.
"I understand. Please follow me."
I nod and walk behind him. He's careful to make sure I don't have to rush.
We pass several set tables. The women are all dressed up and the servers take their time. Nobody hurries here. It's probably this tranquility that's reflected in the prices.
The server brings me to the door and whispers: "We're here. Do you need anything else?"
"No, thank you."
He nods and leaves.
I look at my watch. Four minutes and fifty-three seconds left. Which I now get to spend standing around here...