Chapter 32
32
I could honestly get used to doing my job from a sun lounger. Sadly, working for a Yorkshire biscuit company, I’m not sure how often the opportunity will arise. Perhaps when I do find someone to oversee the product redevelopment, I could ask him or her to convince Iwan that we need to do some flavours inspired by other countries, and that the recruiter needs to be the one who travels around doing the market research.
A girl can dream.
I’m lying with my laptop balanced precariously on my thighs, squinting at the screen while the sun glares down at me, almost like it is offended that I’m working under it instead of relaxing.
However, relaxing isn’t all that easy when your career feels like it’s hanging by a thread.
I’ve managed to reply to a few emails, clear some admin bits and bobs, and now I’m just checking the work group chats and… oh my God!
We really need to fill the role ASAP, but the recruiter has gone on holiday.
Oh, lovely, they’re talking about me. And being slightly catty with it?
Annoyed, I jab at the keyboard and type out a reply.
I’m on holiday, but I’ve found someone. Someone amazing. I’ll sort it all when I’m back.
I hit send before I think it through. Obviously that’s a total lie, and one that I don’t know how I’m going to get out of other than by finding someone for the job. You’ve got to congratulate me though, on finding a way to put myself under even more pressure. Who knew that was possible?
It’s fine. Well, it will be fine. I will find someone. I always do. Not finding anyone isn’t an option.
I slap my laptop shut with a frustrated sigh and lean back, placing my hands over my closed eyes for a moment, to escape the sunlight that’s glowing through my eyelids. There’s no hiding from the sun, when it’s shining like it is today.
‘Are you okay?’ Travis asks, his voice snapping me from my thoughts.
He’s stretched out on the lounger next to me, but he’s turned slightly on his side, propping his head up on one arm. His sunglasses are perched low on his nose, so that I can see his eyes.
He’s been next to me for a while now, quietly, and I haven’t been sure if it’s because he’s relaxing or because he thinks I’m working, or maybe he just hasn’t wanted to talk to me. I know I would much rather be chatting with him than working though.
My cheeks heat up instantly. Of course he’s awake, and paying attention, when I’m having a mini work meltdown.
‘All good,’ I tell him, trying to sound like it is actually all good, but totally failing.
I resist the urge to stare at his shoulders, broad and golden under the sunlight, or the way his tanned stomach ripples as he moves. Focus, Molly. One thing at a time.
‘Well, not all good,’ I say, getting back on track. ‘I just lied to some colleagues, about having someone for the product development role, and?—’
My phone starts ringing. Shit, it’s Iwan. I knew I shouldn’t have connected my phone to the wi-fi too. I could not answer it, but that will look suspicious, but if I do answer it, what will I say? I guess we’ll find out.
‘Hello, Iwan,’ I say brightly.
‘Hi, Molly, how’s the holiday?’ he asks, in a friendly way, like he isn’t the man who sends me stress-inducing emails in the early a.m.
‘It’s… lovely, thanks,’ I reply, trying to sound upbeat. ‘So, so relaxing.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Travis shift again. He’s watching me intently now, smiling slightly, like he’s amused by the mess I’m continuing to make for myself.
‘Not only are you working while you’re there, but I’ve just heard you’ve found someone for the job?’ Iwan continues. ‘I can’t believe you’ve done that, on holiday. That’s excellent news. You’ve really come through for us, Molly.’
‘Oh, well, you know me,’ I babble. ‘Always working.’
‘So, who is it?’ Iwan asks curiously.
Who is it? Oh, God. That’s a very good question, and one that I obviously don’t have an answer for.
‘Who is it?’ I repeat back to him.
‘Yeah, who have you got?’ he asks again.
I stare straight ahead, my brain scrambling for words, but all I can conjure up are panicked sound effects.
‘Well, I’m still… working on him,’ I say, my voice an octave higher than usual. ‘Just a few Is to dot, Ts to cross…’
‘Still working on him? You just said you had someone,’ Iwan points out.
‘I do have him, I do, it’s basically a done deal,’ I continue to flounder.
‘Are you sure?’ Iwan asks slowly. ‘Because, if you don’t have someone…’
‘No, I do, I absolutely do, he’s real,’ I insist.
I cringe the second I say the words ‘he’s real’ because why wouldn’t he be?
‘Molly, no one could blame you for not finding someone, while you’re on holiday…’ Iwan says, offering me an out, but I can’t back down now.
‘He’s real,’ I say again. ‘He’s…’
Before I can make an even bigger fool of myself, Travis’s hand suddenly appears in my eyeline. He gestures at me, coolly and calmly, to hand him the phone.
I stare at him. ‘What are you doing?’ I mouth, but he doesn’t say a word, he just extends his hand again, palm up, insistent.
‘Molly?’ my boss prompts.
I… I don’t know what to do. What else can I do? I don’t even know why I do it, but I hand Travis the phone, my heart hammering against my ribcage as I watch him sit up, lean forward, and take over.
‘Hi, yeah, it’s Travis here,’ he says smoothly, voice dropping into something confident, casual, and yet totally professional.
He pauses while Iwan speaks.
‘Yeah, I’m who Molly’s been speaking to about the role,’ Travis continues, his gaze flicking towards the horizon, like he’s deep in conversation now. ‘I’ve got some experience with product development… I haven’t worked with biscuits before, other than being a keen patisserie chef, but I’m looking for a new challenge and I think this might be it. Big fan of Brookes, love all of your products, but I’ve got ideas, too. Some interesting flavour pairings, seasonal concepts – all sorts, really, my mind raced when Molly told me you were looking to innovate. Maybe the UK market needs a Yorkshire take on lunettes de romans…’
I don’t think I’m breathing – am I breathing?
‘Yes, Molly is certainly wooing me,’ he adds, and then he grins at me – a slow, teasing grin that makes my stomach twist into knots. ‘Yeah, I’d say her charms were working.’
What is even happening right now? Is he really doing this? Is it working?
‘Yep, okay. I’ll pass you back to Molly,’ he says, handing the phone to me like he didn’t just hijack my mental breakdown and nip it in the bud.
I take the phone, staring at him in stunned disbelief.
‘Hi,’ I practically croak down the phone.
‘Good work, Molly,’ Iwan says, clearly impressed. ‘He sounds great. Get him for us, no matter what it takes, okay?’
‘I can do that,’ I reply faintly, because I’m not sure that’s true.
We say our goodbyes and hang up.
‘You saved me,’ I blurt, still in shock.
‘Ah, it was nothing,’ Travis insists, leaning back. ‘I could talk about biscuits all day.’
‘How did you blag your way through like that?’ I ask.
‘Well, I am actually a chef,’ he says, stretching out again, his muscles shifting under his skin in that totally distracting way.
Suddenly it seems so obvious.
‘Ahh, I should have guessed, when I ate that incredible bagel and it was so good I saw colours,’ I joke. ‘I thought I was just that hungry.’
‘I’ve bought you some time,’ he says with a smile. ‘And don’t worry, I know lots of people, a few who are actually looking for work. I’m sure I can find you someone perfect for the job – someone even better than me.’
Oh, I seriously doubt that. Someone better than him? Better than my actual hero? I’m not sure anyone gets better than that.