Chapter 24
Extinction Level Event
Imogen? What on earth is Imogen doing in the States, let alone in Anders’s bedroom? And what does that mean for me? And Anders’s words, what did he mean by ‘if I can’? Is he considering staying in the States?
Truly, it’s never a good idea to get bad news late at night.
Even though my sensible head tells me to let it all go, my mind can’t help worrying that I should never have got involved with Anders.
Ginny’s experience was right there, front and centre, warning me.
But still, I ignored it and have only myself to blame.
I knew the dangers of dating the boss. I knew the dangers of dating a man not long out of a relationship. I knew the dangers of… everything, really. A therapist would have a field day. Temptation is indeed the devil’s playground. I threw it all away for three orgasms. No sex is worth that.
There’s something about the midnight hours, how your mind spins and magnifies issues into monsters. I lie in my own bed, unable to sleep, and soon I’ve not only imagined the worst, but I’ve convinced myself it absolutely will come true.
Anders will start a new company, Cerium USA.
He will stay in Wisconsin and reconnect with his leggy, blonde bombshell girlfriend.
He will get his family. In my mind, his mom gazes on fondly as a host of perfect little blonde kiddies run around their barn.
Anders stands beside his dad, holding a babe while grandpa shares wise sayings like a man can never be truly happy unless he’s home.
By the end, Anders has replaced me in his work, in his home, and in his life.
It’s late – or rather, early – when I fall asleep, and I don’t sleep well. My dreams fade as I wake, but glimpses remain of barns and cows, and doors that open into the same room, with no escape.
I’m brain-dead in the morning, cutting Effie’s toast the wrong way, putting the dirty laundry in the tumble dryer, pouring juice into my coffee instead of milk.
Mid-morning, I discover I’ve got my shirt on inside out.
I promise myself a nap when Effie is out with her dad, but the time for Mike’s arrival comes and passes, and there’s no sign of him.
He isn’t responding to any of my messages.
I watch as Effie reaches the slow realisation that her father isn’t coming. Although it doesn’t show on her face, I know she’s devastated. She’s sliding her thumb up and down her finger, again and again, comforting herself.
She gets up from the train track she’s been building. It covers the entirety of my floor, but she keeps ripping up bits and changing them, as if it’s not perfect. But if it’s finished, she has to address her disappointment.
She stands directly in front of where I’m sitting, pretending to read. “If Daddy is not coming, maybe Anders can come and play?” she asks.
I look up. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” I say, “but Anders isn’t here. His daddy is very ill, so he’s gone back to America to see him.”
“Does his daddy have a tummy bug?” Effie’s memories of being sick are fresh. She cannot conceive of anything worse.
“It’s not his tummy that’s sick.” I lightly tap hers, then move up to her chest and tap that.
“It’s his heart. It isn’t working properly, and it’s making him very poorly.
He has to stay in bed. So Anders has gone to help his mummy and to look after their farm.
” And fall in love with his ex, but I keep that part in my head.
“I would like to live on a farm,” Effie says. “I’d have a pet pig. She could come with me to school.” Interesting that the pig supersedes a puppy.
“They don’t let pets in schools. Could you imagine all those dogs and cats, hamsters and guinea pigs, in one place?”
“And bearded dragons?”
“And bearded dragons,” I agree.
Something occurs to Effie. “If Anders is away, who’s looking after Smaug’ette?”
“Anders has a friend, a herpetologist. Whenever he’s away, his friend checks on her.”
“When is he coming back?” Her blue eyes gaze up at me. She’s asking all the big questions today.
“I don’t know. He might not come back … if his dad is too sick.”
Effie’s head tilts to her shoulder. “Are you sad, Mummy?” Effie may not always show emotion, but she sometimes recognises it in others, particularly those she knows well.
“A little,” I say, “but I’m also very tired.”
“Don’t be sad. Anders is nice. Nice people don’t forget their friends.” She clambers up onto the sofa beside me, then reaches her arms around my body and gives me a hug.
I blink furiously to hold back the tears.
I end up going to bed at the same time as Effie. For an hour or so before my eyes fall shut, I read my book. Then I sleep solidly until the alarm drags me awake.
I check my phone.
Anders never called.
No matter what is happening between Anders and me, I still have a job to do. He may be busy replacing me in his love life but for the moment, I am his assistant and I need to assist him by running Cerium.
Scarlett is waiting for me when I walk into Anders’s office. “Anders was always in by seven,” she remarks, looking at her watch.
“Anders doesn’t have a four-year-old,” I reply sharply, dropping my bag to the floor under the desk. I'm not going to apologise for being a mother and I’m not going to pretend that Effie isn't important. “Did you need something?”
She chews her lip. She hates being here, asking me for favours. And she suspects Anders and I are involved but she can’t ask without overstepping. It must be killing her.
“Anders asked me to review our promotion partners. He wanted to look at revenue versus profit for the spend. That is, those bringing in the most money, may not be bringing in the most profit because they cost us more.”
I roll my eyes. “I know the difference between revenue and profit.” How stupid does she think I am?
I wait for her to continue. When she doesn’t, I prompt, “And?”
“And what he suspected was right. But Piotr wants to push advertising spend for The Obsidian Sigil to the highest revenue earners.”
“Is he trying to maximise reach?” Sometimes you have to accept lower profit levels because you can’t get there any other way.
She shrugs.
“Okay. I’ll have a word with him.” But I’m not going blundering in without being sure of my ground.
Piotr is not my biggest fan and while I don’t need him to love me, I also don’t need him jumping ship because I’ve undermined him.
And I don’t entirely trust Scarlett not to set me up.
“Send me the data you gave Anders. I’ll look at it and we’ll go from there. ”
I’ve not even taken my coat off when Scarlett is followed by Ramesh. So much for them handling their own problems. And so my morning goes on. By the time we get to lunch, I’ve had enough. The only way I’ll get a break is if I’m not in the building.
I grab my coat. The forecast this morning was for rain and as I push through the door onto the street, a fine drizzle descends. I walk rapidly up the street, away from any coffee shops or fast-food places that are likely to contain Cerium employees. It’s maybe half a mile before I feel it’s safe.
Ducking into a mini market, I grab a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich and a bag of crisps.
At the counter, I hesitate for a moment, and then pick up a chocolate bar.
There’s every reason to suspect that by mid-afternoon I will need the calories.
And I’ll probably burn all of them off in nervous energy by the end of the day.
Despite the rain, I eat my sandwich while window-shopping, staring in at houses and flats I’ll never be able to afford to buy.
But a girl can dream. I fold the empty wrapper up and slide it into my pocket to dispose of later at work.
Before opening my crisps, I check my watch. How time flies when you’re having fun.
I turn around. If I don’t get my arse in gear, I’m going to be late back. But as I pass a coffee shop, I glance in and I jolt to a stop.
There, in one of the comfortable chairs, is someone I recognise. My brain can’t quite place him; a bald man with a beard and distinctive black glasses. He’s talking to somebody, but their guest is sitting in a wingback chair, and I can’t see them. It’s niggling at me, but I can’t quite reach it.
Remembering I’m already late, I push the puzzle aside and pick up my pace. As soon as I walk into the office, the problems arrive. My afternoon is just as hectic as the morning, and I forget all about the man in the coffee shop until late that night.
I’m in the shower, my mind floating free as I massage shampoo into my hair, when the answer pops into my head. I recall Scarlett talking to the guy at the conference, the man Piotr identified as the CEO of Wobbegong.
Suddenly, I’m wide awake.
Wobbegong offices are down the M4 corridor. What is their CEO doing in our neck of the woods? Is he trying to poach staff? I wouldn’t put it past him, but we absolutely cannot afford to lose anyone before launch.
It’s another thing to worry about.
My phone rings as I’m towelling dry. Anders, at last. I answer the call, not caring that my face is bare of make-up, my hair wet and tangled.
If Anders looked tired before, he looks bone-weary tonight, and it’s only late afternoon where he is. He’s probably still got a mountain of chores ahead of him.
“I can’t stay long,” he says before I’ve even uttered my greeting. “How are things going? Is everything okay at Cerium?”
I’m a little miffed. There’s not even a pretence of being interested in me or Effie.
He doesn’t know about Mike not turning up, nor has he explained anything about Imogen.
But I can also see the strain on him, so I swallow my curt reply and instead tell him how the day went.
If we haven’t got long, there are things we need to cover.
I tell him about Scarlett’s reservations and Piotr’s intentions. He frowns.