Chapter Eight
“ G ood morning, Janet,” Debs chirped, stopping at her assistant’s desk.
“Good…morning.”
Debs looked up at the strange greeting, wondering why Janet seemed so uncertain when replying to her. “Everything okay?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing?”
“Everything’s great. Why wouldn’t it be?” Debs asked with a scrunch of her forehead.
“I don’t know. You just seem unusually chipper this morning.”
“Am I not usually happy?”
“This is kind of unsettling.”
“Maybe you’re just getting grumpy in your old age,” Debs shot back, smirking at her playfully. “Is Mica in yet?”
“Yes, I think so. Do you want me to call them?” Janet asked, already leaning towards the phone.
“No rush, just let them know I could do with seeing them when they have five minutes.”
“Okay. Harry Jenkins asked to move his meeting with you this morning, so I’ve put him in at eleven, and you have an hour free now.”
“Okay,” Debs said, moving towards her office door.
“Definitely something going on,” she heard Janet mutter.
Ignoring it, she closed the office door behind her, dropping her handbag and briefcase onto the desk before instantly gravitating to the plant perched on the corner of it. She ran her fingers over the smooth leaves in what had fast become a daily ritual, carefully inspecting it for any changes. Sienna was right when she said it was a plant that was easy to care for. Janet had told her the basics, but Debs would admit only to herself that she spent far longer than necessary Googling how to care for it herself. She prodded her fingertips gently into the soil, ensuring that it was moist enough, happy that it felt okay. Apparently, she should water it weekly, even though her urge to keep it alive meant that she had to fight the desire to do it more often. If it got too wet, she could rot its roots, so she’d set up a reminder on her phone once a week to water it. And Sienna had kindly got her a plant that would let her know if she ever neglected it too much, apparently drooping and dropping its leaves if it got too dry.
“Morning!”
Mica’s intrusion into her office made her jump. “Shit-a-brick Mic!”
“Sorry, Janet told me you wanted to see me. What are you doing?” they asked, looking at where her dirt-covered finger still lay in the pot.
“Checking if she needs watering,” Debs said casually, stepping back and brushing her fingers together to clean them.
“Oh. Okay…wait, she? Your plant is a she?”
“I guess so,” Debs said, wandering over to the coffee machine in the corner and switching it on. “Do you want one?”
“No thanks. I thought you hated plants anyway. You said you couldn’t keep them alive for more than five minutes.”
“I can’t. Usually.”
“So why have you got one in your office? Did Janet finally get you to change your mind?”
“It was a gift,” Debs said, prepping her coffee. “From Sienna.”
“Sienna? The girl from the community centre?”
“She’s not a girl. She’s twenty-six.” Debs paused, wondering why she felt the need to clarify Sienna’s age to Mica.
“Okay then…” Mica drew out the last word.
Debs could feel their stare boring into the back of her head. She loved Mica, their friendship, one that had stood the test of time and distance. She never quite understood what Mica meant when they would complain about Debs knowing them better than they knew themself, how that could be irritating and infuriating. She knew she could be exactly those things, the way she teased and was unrelenting in the way she wouldn’t let Mica get away with things, not the ones that really mattered, but she never truly understood the root of that annoyance. Not until months ago, when Mica forced her to admit there was something wrong, that there was something happening within her marriage. Then she truly understood what Mica had meant, how they had felt when Debs could read them and see that something was troubling them.
Debs knew she felt different today. Knew she had done for a while. But as of yet, she wasn’t sure why it was. Something about meeting Sienna had lit a fire inside her, made her feel alive. Last night after she had sent Sienna home in a cab, far later than either of them anticipated, Debs had crawled into bed, tired and weary but invigorated. As she lay staring at her ceiling, for the first time in months appreciating the silence rather than feeling oppressed by it, her mind was full of thoughts about Sienna. Her passion and enthusiasm. The way she spoke with such kindness. The ever-present thread of self-doubt which seemed to run through her. She wished she could take that away, show her just how truly amazing she was, help her find the joy in all her incredible achievements. It only made her more determined to ensure that this auction was a success.
“Hey, can you handle our ten o’clock meeting without me?”
“Sure, it's only the final details. Why?”
“Jenkins called and pushed back to eleven, so I have some spare time, and I want to get something done. But I really want a good couple of hours so I can get into it,” she replied, walking back over to her desk with her freshly brewed coffee.
“And you’re…fine with that?”
Debs sighed, dropping down into her seat. “No, but what am I going to do about it right now?”
“Drop him. He’s a waste of space. He always rearranges meetings last minute. Grace said he had sweaty hands.”
“He’s good business. Sweaty hands or not.”
Mica stepped forward, leaning against the desk on closed fists, studying Debs.
“Janet’s right; there is something going on.”
“There’s nothing going on!” Debs defended. “You two need to stop gossiping.”
“We don’t gossip. She just gives me the measure of your mood. And she was right that you’re remarkably calm about this. Usually, you and Grace feel the same about clients, and she doesn’t like Jenkins. Now he’s moved his meeting at the last minute again , and you’re fine with it.”
“Like I said, there’s no point getting pissed. And Grace and I do feel the same, but until there’s a valid reason, I can’t turn down his business.”
“But you’re going to read him the riot act, right? I’m all for a calmer Debs—God knows it’ll be good for your blood pressure—but I will not tolerate a pushover Debs.”
“I’m not becoming a pushover!” Debs exclaimed. “Wash your mouth out, you fucking arse!”
Mica chuckled, standing straight again. “That’s more like it. And can I be there when you tell him? For entertainment purposes.”
“You’re a sick bastard, you know that?”
“Meh.” Mica shrugged. “Seeing you tear someone a new one is one of my favourite things to watch.”
“Fuck off, you weirdo. I’ve got work to do.”
“Sure thing. Lunch?”
“Lunch sounds good. Grace?”
“She’s out all day,” Mica called over their shoulder as they left.
Debs smiled as the door closed, grateful for the fact that Mica seemed to have been diverted away asking too many questions she wasn’t sure she had the answers to. She wasn’t sure why she felt like this or why being around Sienna had given her such a jolt, but she wasn’t going to complain or dwell on it too much.
Flicking on the laptop in front of her, Debs pulled out her notebook from the top drawer of her desk with a steely determination which she had long forgotten at the idea of a new challenge.
She had an auction to plan.
Debs looked up as her office door opened, Janet appearing at the threshold.
“Is Jenkins here?”
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean not exactly?”
“He’s sent someone. Apparently, he acts as his proxy,” Janet said with a shrug.
“Oh, for fucks sake! Fine, send…”
“Joel Marshall,” Janet finished for her.
“Joel Marshall? Fine. Send him in then.”
Debs stood up, smoothing down her blouse from where she had been sitting the last two hours, meticulously and enthusiastically planning out the first details and ideas for the charity auction. She’d come up with a decent number of ideas, the thrill of having a project like this to work on rejuvenating her passion and excitement in a way she hadn’t experienced in months. She felt almost giddy at the thought of sharing it with Sienna, a thrum of nervous anticipation at what she would think about Debs’ suggestions running through her.
The sound of the office door opening again kicked her into schooling her features, ridding herself of the small smile that graced her face whenever she found herself thinking of Sienna.
“Mr. Marshall, nice to meet you.” She held out her hand to greet the man who had just walked in, his swagger oozing the self-confidence she was so used to seeing in people in this industry. On some, it was well-suited, but on most, it was just arrogant and misplaced, and Debs enjoyed cutting those down to size. For some, having a female CEO of a property development company was something they still struggled with in such a male-dominated industry. But Debs had been around long enough to know how to handle them, and either their arrogance or their partnership never lasted for long. It was just a waiting game to see which was more important.
“Debs! It’s been a long time!”
“I’m sorry,” Debs said, taken aback by the informal greeting. “Do we know each other?”
“You don’t remember? Well, I’m not surprised; you must have hundreds of people pass through your doors. We used to work at Gargrave Houses together.”
A glimmer of recognition went through Debs, but it was small. It had been years since Gargrave Houses; it was her first job out of university and where she had met James, the place where the last chapter of her life had started. A sadness washed over her at the reminder that that part of her life was over. Not for no longer having James, but just the reminder that she was alone, that well of uncertainty she had been so accustomed to opening wider. She realised somewhat belatedly that she hadn’t felt it in a few days—too preoccupied with Sienna and her application and the thought of the auction.
“You used to work in…”
“Land acquisitions, but now I’m a general dogsbody for Harry Jenkins.” He smiled, and the mention of her client’s name reminded her who her meeting was originally intended to be with.
“Well, remind Mr Jenkins when you next see him that I don’t appreciate him sending his general dogsbody when I’m expecting him. At this point during the project, I expect to see the organ-grinder, not the monkey.”
She walked back around her desk, taking up position behind the shield she had spent the past decade carefully crafting.
“You’ve gotten fierce over the years.”
“I’ve always been fierce, as you put it. The fact you don’t seem to realise only confirms to me we really didn’t know each other well back then.”
“Fair point.” Joel took a seat opposite Debs, his posture straightening out into something more formal and professional. Debs internally patted herself on the back, her words clearly having the desired impact in defining the boundaries of the next hour.
“So, let’s get to business.”