Chapter 1
It began as a casual conversation and Imogen wasn’t quite sure at what point things had started to go so wrong.
It wasn’t her fault. At least, not all her fault.
She’d wanted to be friendly, that was all.
To form a bond with her colleagues. That wasn’t exactly a crime, was it?
It was almost a requirement of open-plan offices.
They created an atmosphere of familiarity.
Sitting side by side and across from the people you worked with encouraged confidences, and chat, and allowed for the gradual absorption of tiny granules of information that you didn’t even realize you’d overheard. It was intimacy by osmosis.
“Hey, Imogen.” Anya glanced at her across the desk.
She was a makeup addict and spent at least half an hour of every day extolling the virtues of her latest find.
Today her eyelids glittered like an ornament on a Christmas tree.
“Did you see the email from the boss? She’s planning a ‘bring your dog to work day’ the week before Christmas. ”
“I saw the email.” Her day had gone downhill from there.
Bonding with her colleagues was important, but she liked to keep her work life and her home life separate.
“Did you get the costings for those venues, Anya? I have to get that proposal to Rosalind to check before it goes to the client at lunchtime.”
Pets, clothes, makeup, diets, travel, food, movies, books, bad dates and irritating clients. That covered the bulk of the conversation that bounced around the office.
“Just waiting on the last two. Isn’t it a brilliant idea?
Every dog wears a festive outfit and Rosalind will pick the winner.
All for charity. It will be so much fun.
I’m wondering whether I can persuade my little Cocoa to wear antlers.
Generally he hates having his head touched, so maybe not.
But we get to dress up, too. I bought a new sparkly highlighter on Saturday.
Perfect for Christmas. There was a discount if you bought two, so I got one for you, too.
” She passed it across the desk and Imogen felt a lump in her throat.
“That’s for me? Why?”
“Just because.” Anya shrugged and grinned. “Call it a thank-you for helping me out of that sticky client situation last week. Also, you have great cheekbones and it will look good on you.”
Imogen was touched. She remembered her first day at the company when Anya had presented her with a frosted cupcake and a pen that glowed in the dark. You’re going to be working late so you’ll need this.
It was hard to believe she’d almost been here for a year. She’d started her new job a few days before Christmas and had barely got started before the office had closed for the festive break.
“I love it. Thank you.” She checked the time and felt a flash of panic.
She didn’t miss deadlines. Not ever. And this one was too close for comfort.
She wanted to call and get the costings herself, but she was Anya’s manager and was supposed to be helping her develop so she needed to stop doing things herself.
The restraint almost killed her. It was so much easier and safer to do it herself.
At least then she knew it would be done on time, with no mistakes.
“Will you chase those venues urgently? Those are the last numbers I need to finish this.”
“Sure, I’ll do it now. I saw a lipstick that would look great on you, Imogen.
Maybe we could go shopping together one lunchtime.
Also if you’re looking for doggy outfits, I saw a cute red Santa coat on the internet that would look great on a golden retriever.
Or do you already have something in mind?
” Anya was more interested in the idea of everyone bringing their dogs to work than she was in doing actual work.
“You will be bringing Midas, won’t you?”
Realizing there was no chance of getting those costings until she finished the dog conversation, Imogen glanced at the photograph on her desk.
Huge brown eyes gazed back at her, and her heart tightened.
Bring your dog to work day.
She touched the photo with the tips of her fingers.
“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to bring him.
” She definitely wouldn’t be bringing him, but she still had to work out how best to present that fact to her colleagues without alienating them.
And then she had a brain wave. “He’s not been well. The vet has kept him for a few nights.”
“What? No! Midas is ill? And you didn’t tell us?” Anya put her pen down and looked at Janie. “Janie, did you know Midas was ill?”
Janie glanced at them, her ponytail swinging across her back. She was a fitness fanatic and used the gym for an hour every morning when everyone else was still asleep. Occasionally she paced up and down the office just to get her step count up.
“Midas is ill?” Janie rejected a client phone call and focused on Imogen. “That’s awful. What happened? Was it the dog walker’s fault? Did she let him eat something he shouldn’t have eaten?”
“No, nothing like that.” Maybe illness hadn’t been the best way to go.
She should have played along and then found a reason for Midas to be absent on the day.
He stepped on something and he has to rest his paw.
“It’s not important. Look, if you could get the last of those costings that would be great, because I need to finish this document and the deadline is—”
“Of course it’s important! This is your dog we’re talking about. What is more important than that? The client can wait.”
“The client can’t wait,” Imogen said. “We’re in a competitive business. There are new events companies springing up every day. It’s important that we exceed expectations.”
“We will. We’ll do a great job on the event itself, we always do, particularly with you in charge.
But this is just a proposal. No one is going to die if it’s a few hours late.
You can pause for two minutes, Imogen,” Anya said.
“You worked over the weekend supervising those events, and you didn’t take a day off Monday. You work too hard.”
Too hard? There was no such thing as too hard.
She loved her job. Her job was everything.
And she was good at it. She was a natural multitasker and handled twice as many accounts as everyone else.
She did whatever it took to win business and keep the client, and she did that through experience, attention to detail, creativity and sheer hard work.
She was good at what she did. And that wasn’t only her opinion.
In her previous company she’d moved up to the lofty heights of management so quickly a jealous colleague had left an oxygen mask on her desk.
But now she had a team of six to manage, and occasionally she wished she could just do all the work herself rather than manage them while they did it.
Anya, in particular, seemed to feel no particular sense of urgency about anything.
She was generous and kind, but also maddeningly slow to complete tasks.
She told everyone that work/life balance was essential to her, but Imogen rarely saw her focus on the work part of that equation.
It was like trying to run a race with six weights attached to her waist.
She felt a rush of gloom. She was going to have to speak to Anya. There was no avoiding it. She needed to have a “conversation” about commitment and goals. Managing Anya would take her away from doing actual client work, which meant she’d be working longer hours.
Work/life balance? There was no balance for Imogen, but she didn’t mind. This was her choice.
“The deadline is lunchtime, Anya.”
“Relax, Imogen. You’re going to get white hair and wrinkles before your time. It will get done. It always does.” Anya dismissed the deadline and Imogen felt her stress levels ratchet up another notch.
It did get done because she invariably ended up doing it herself. She really liked Anya, which made it even harder. “Anya—”
“I know. You’re stressed. And I understand why.”
“You do?” Hearing that came as a relief. Maybe Anya was more aware of work pressures than she’d thought.
“Of course. How can you be so calm when your lovely Midas is ill? I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this to yourself. I’d be totally freaking out.”
Midas?
“I—”
“What does the vet say? When will they let him out? You must be worried sick. It’s okay to be honest. We’re a team. We’re here to support each other. You’re allowed to be human, Imogen. We can cover for you if needed. We can do your work.”
Imogen blinked. Anya didn’t seem able to do her own work, let alone anyone else’s but this probably wasn’t the time to point that out.
“Well, I—”
“Anya’s right,” Janie said. “You don’t have to hold it in.
I mean, this is Midas. He’s your baby.” She reached across and picked up the photo Imogen kept on her desk.
“Look at that face. Poor boy. I’m sure Rosalind would give you time off if you explained.
She was amazing when Buster had that lump on his leg.
I suppose because she’s a dog lover herself. She gets it.”
“That’s why I love this place,” Anya said. “Everyone is so human. The last place I worked no one talked about anything personal. It was like working with a bunch of robots. Nightmare.”
A place where no one talked about anything personal? Imogen was starting to wonder if that might actually be preferable. She loved her colleagues, but she would have loved them even more if they’d had the same focus on work as she did.
But there was no denying that her colleagues were good people, even if most of the time they seemed to fit work round their personal life.
Janie looked close to tears as she held the photo of Midas and Imogen reached across and gently removed it from her fingers.