Chapter 22
Istormed over to her as fast as my fury and high heels would allow.
She was sitting behind her desk in yet another demure outfit. Her skirt looked as if it had been fashioned from shiny black PVC, or possibly a couple of bin bags. Quite fitting really, as the woman was a big bag of trash.
There was a little smile playing on her lips. I knew she had been expecting me. I fantasised about grabbing her by her dirty blonde hair extensions and dragging her around the carpet like a Henry Hoover.
“Delete that post now.”
“What post?”
She gave me an innocent little smile before gracefully gliding over to the photocopier with a pile of documents.
It took a battle of wills not to launch myself at her and see how good the photocopy of her forehead would look as I bounced it off the paper feeder.
“You know exactly what post.”
I walked over as calmly as I could muster and passed her my phone. From the expression on her face, it was clear she was showing zero shits as to how she had upset me. She was actually making a really bad job of disguising how much she was enjoying it all, and the fact that I might blow a gasket at any moment.
“But it’s funny, and look how many reactions it’s got already! People are loving it. You’re proving to be quite a hit. Honestly, you need to relax a bit, Vera, and not take life so seriously.”
Did she just call me Vera? Maybe I had misheard her, because I feared that the continuous suppressing of my fury might be affecting my ability to hear correctly.
“What did you just call me?”
“Oh yes, sorry, it was just a joke. I think Vera suits you so much better, you just seem more ‘Vera’. It’s my term of endearment for you.”
Term of endearment? Who was she kidding? She had about as much affection for me as she would a boil on her arse cheek.
“OK, I won’t call you it again.”
She held her hands up for a second in mock compliance, and giggled before returning to copying the pile of papers.
“I can see from your face you’re clearly unimpressed. You have the same sour expression as when you took your first sip of smoothie yesterday. What did it taste like again? Was it the flavour of unrequited love by any chance?”
The penny slowly began to drop.
I had been right all along, and should have trusted my gut instinct. She really did hate me. It wasn’t all in my imagination, as Seb had said. And now I knew the reason why.
There was probably an element of insecurity, because I was senior to her in the firm; maybe she was even jealous of my perceived confidence and skill. But what really got under her fake-tanned, over-perfumed skin was the fact that she was threatened by the relationship I had with Seb. And that threat needed to be neutralised in whatever way she could find.
So here was the truth, finally out: the real reason why she had tried to humiliate me. She was jealous of me, jealous of my closeness to Seb, and she was fighting dirty.
She had probably had her eye on him since the first day she had joined the firm. She’d had to get me out of the way by whatever means necessary: make Seb believe she was this lovely girl, and I was the one with the problem. So she was clearly trying to undermine me at every turn.
She was still speaking as the light from the copier flashed briefly, accentuating her heavily applied make-up. In that light she didn’t look nearly as pretty. But then again, maybe that was because until that moment I hadn’t realised quite how truly ugly her personality was.
“I don’t suppose you can have hated your drink too much, though, as you decided to keep a bit of it between your teeth to have as a snack later.”
She giggled again. A most unappealing sound.
“Sorry… sorry, I’m only joking.”
She might say she was joking, but she needed to shut her trap. I might not be a comic, but I could happily give her a punchline of my own. And it would be a knock-out one at that.