Chapter Eleven
Ella
I spent the evening trawling through the businesses owned by Philip Khan while tucking into my HelloFresh ready-prepped meal of salmon and asparagus.
The registered establishments of this man were unreal, from high-end restaurants in Dubai, London and Manchester to hotels in Scotland, Barcelona and Madrid.
My mind kept reverting to our encounter and how blunt I had been – when he asked me where I trained and I replied simply: why?
Or when he asked my name and I couldn’t even give him a convincing fake.
Fuck, why would this man help me after my rude behaviour?
And what if I’d completely fucked the last chance I had at pulling off this art exhibition event?
I could feel the tension and worry knotting itself throughout my body.
Panicky flashbacks of both Philip and Andrea filled my mind.
When I was with Joshua, he was my world, as slowly but surely all of my teenage college friends dwindled.
I couldn’t lose Zola or Katy; despite him, they were the only people on the planet I really connected with.
I sighed anxiously, thinking of all the possible scenarios in which Andrea would fire me.
Maybe quietly in her office? Not her style , I thought, knowing how much she loved to stamp down her authority in public so as to prove a point.
It would be at my desk or during a pitch, the better to humiliate me in front of everyone else.
I felt my stomach twist and took out my phone to FaceTime Zola and Katy, but there was no answer.
Katy: I can’t talk! At the pics with Harry! He’s so bloody cute, man xxx
I rolled my eyes – so much for not getting attached. Then I shook off the thought. Concentrate, Ella. Come on. You can do this. You can pull this off. I searched for Philip on social media but with no luck – who doesn’t have socials these days? I wondered. Then, I headed to LinkedIn. Bingo.
Philip John Khan.
Entrepreneur.
Director of Khan International Health & Wellbeing ?Group.
Greater Glasgow and Clyde.
I began sliding through his posts, from him in a tuxedo winning some fancy award, to him cutting the ribbon at various swanky charity events.
I couldn’t help but notice a different woman in each picture standing decoratively beside him.
This man clearly got around. I continued scrolling.
Jesus, he’d even switched on the Christmas lights at George Square one year!
Where were Cassi and George when we needed them?
I was on a deep, dark delve into his company list, but he hadn’t posted recently.
Fuck it. I opened a new message and began typing, then stopped.
Shit, I’d have to change my name . I clicked back on my bare minimum profile, which only stated my stint at university and my current position at Smart Reputations, then edited my name to Pilates.
Phew – it let me do it. But really. Cringe!
Then I hopped back onto his page and began typing.
Dear Mr Khan,
It was great to meet you earlier in the gym! Would you be able to contact me regarding a business proposal? (Time is unfortunately of the essence and, if possible, I would love to catch up with you asap.)
Kind regards,
Pilates.
Send.
I paused a few moments, glowering at the screen. Please answer, fucking answer.
Nothing.
Great.
He’s probably spending the night sipping champagne in a suite in Edinburgh, while I’ll be enjoying the stench of my asparagus piss for the next twenty-four hours.
I lifted my plate and carried it through to the kitchen, scraped the leftovers into the bin, then washed up.
My phone pinged from the sofa and I leaped over – one new email from Groupon .
I dragged my feet back to the kitchen, wiped down my already immaculate worktops and finally headed through to the bedroom.
After brushing my teeth, flossing and hanging tomorrow’s outfit neatly on a hanger, I crawled into bed.
What a fuck-up of a day! My phone lit up the room, making me jump.
I could feel my heart beating loudly in my chest. Please, please, please!
Zola: Sorry missed your call! I got you a date tomorrow afternoon and tomorrow evening, haha! No buts, gal! See you in the morning! Xx
My stomach sank. Dating anyone, especially when my job was on the line, was the last thing I wanted to do.