Chapter Twenty-Two
Ella
That evening, Zola and Katy left the office while I stayed behind.
I was on a roll with Alexander’s campaign and wanted to tick off as much of the organising as possible now that my plan was fresh in my head.
I had just spent an hour speaking on FaceTime to Alexander and his PA about my plans and the itinerary of what to expect on the night, and I could tell the pair were finally impressed with my efforts.
I couldn’t help but dream up possible opportunities for the Dicktionary Club, too.
I found my mind wandering throughout the day, thinking up new and refreshing online marketing strategies we could create to finally allow the women of Glasgow to take back some control of the dating world.
I knew this concept would be unique and, with all of our backgrounds, I really believed we could build a unique business and an escape plan that could potentially free us from Andrea’s hell hole.
I wanted to create a better life for myself.
I was holding onto the idea of not living in constant fear anymore, that if I made the wrong move on a pitch or a concept, or even left the fucking lights on again, I’d get fired.
I was all in and couldn’t wait to smash this campaign, then launch our website.
I was finishing up my late night by sending over the deposit to the funky, classically trained violinists I’d got lined up when I heard footsteps from the hallway.
I froze.
Oh no . This was exactly how young – OK, middle-aged – women got murdered in the movies. The footsteps were getting closer and I stood up from my desk, praying it was just the cleaner doing an extra-thorough job.
What could I grab as a weapon? I turned quickly, looking for anything to pick up. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Then I looked at my heels. At lightning speed, I kicked them off and picked one up.
‘Hello!’ I called out, slowly walking towards the office door, wielding my high heel over my head. ‘Who is it?’ I could feel my breath quicken. ‘I’m phoning the police as we speak. This is private property!’ I warned.
The door suddenly swung open onto the office bull pen, and I leaped towards the figure with my shoe high in the air.
‘JESUS CHRIST!’ a man’s deep voice yelled out.
Standing there with a carrier bag in one hand and a huge bouquet of black roses in the other was Philip Khan. My jaw almost hit the floor with a thud.
‘Philip?’ I managed, entirely out of breath from being ready to defend my life. Slowly, I lowered my arm, the shoe dangling by my side.
‘You scared the crap out of me!’ He was shaken up, the veins on his forehead popping out.
‘I’m sorry, I thought you were .?.?. I don’t know, breaking in or something?’
‘So, you attacked me with a Jimmy Choo?’ He was beginning to chuckle as the situation simmered down a little.
I fucking wish it was a Jimmy Choo , I thought, analysing my Zara classic heel.
‘I called out, you didn’t answer!’ I said defensively, before shakily making my way back towards my desk. Philip followed behind me, and I was aware that I could still feel my pulse pump through me. ‘What are you doing here?’
He approached my station and set down the carrier bag.
I could immediately smell the aroma of delicious spices heating the air.
‘Well, apart from being attacked, you mean?’ He smirked.
‘You cancelled dinner, so I brought dinner to you! I thought you might appreciate someone to bounce ideas off too?’
‘Oh .?.?. right. I’ve sort of pitched my idea. It’s all done, and both Alexander and Andrea seem really happy with it.’
Philip stood for a second, thinking up his next move. ‘Well, maybe you’d appreciate some company, perhaps?’
I examined him. It was strange. I wasn’t sure if I felt sorry for him, or if he was a huge player shooting his shot.
If a man turned up to the office unannounced for Katy, I knew she’d be humping him in the conference room within fifteen minutes, overcome with gratitude at the sweet gesture. Is that what he expects?
My eyes fell to his hands. ‘Are you attending a funeral after dinner?’ I glanced at the black roses, curious about his choice of flower.
‘No! These are for you. Black roses represent new beginnings.’ He sighed.
‘And, well, death it seems. I thought in regard to your project, it’s a new beginning after all?
I wasn’t thinking of the mourning aspect of them.
’ He paused. ‘Shit.’ He looked at the ground briefly, overthinking his gift, then his dark eyes glared up at mine. ‘Did I fuck up?’
I started to laugh, enjoying watching his usual confidence take a wobble. ‘That depends on what food you have going on in there.’
Philip grinned widely. ‘Agh, I nipped to the Ho Wong and got us some curry and ribs!’
‘Right. OK, well, I’ll err .?.?. grab us some plates?’ I said, walking over to the tea cupboard across the room and gathering plates and cutlery.
Why was he here? Why would he just stop by unannounced? I was grateful for the munch, but I could never work out this man’s intentions. What was he playing at?
On my way back I couldn’t help but notice how out of place Philip seemed in my small, empty office.
Smart Reputations only had two men who worked there and both were gay.
Philip was buttoned into a full suit, shirt and tie, looking unbelievably smart yet tired, as if he had been stuck in meetings the entire day.
I passed him a plate, gesturing for him to take my chair while I wheeled Zola’s over to join him at my desk. It all felt quiet and awkward. I had no idea why he would come to my work unannounced. Fuck, I even texted and phoned my mum before stopping by the family home. Who turns up without warning?
‘So, this is where the magic happens?’ he asked, dishing out the rice and curry. I watched him, looking so unusually domesticated. He passed my plate over to me.
‘Thanks. And, yeah, I suppose it is. The offices are not as flashy as you might first think, eh?’ I glanced around the room with its cheap carpet and Ikea furniture, and imagined what Philip’s offices looked like. Probably glass-topped tables and polished marble flooring.
‘As long as everyone is happy at work, that’s all that matters. Oh, here.’ He rummaged into his trouser pockets and pulled out two cans of Irn Bru. ‘No more hands, with the flowers and food.’ He smiled brightly.
‘Oh, right! That’s what that was!’ I teased, reaching over for a can. ‘Thanks.’
‘Cheers!’ He held up his own can and we banged them together, then began tucking into the food.
A few seconds later, with my mouth full of delicious curry, I was still trying to make sense of the situation. ‘Sorry to ask again, but why did you come here? Were you passing by?’ I asked, feeling out of sorts.
‘No. I wanted to see you. To help you.’ His dark eyes glanced up at me as he lifted a rib to his mouth. He winked.
I rolled my eyes, unwilling to fall for his charm.
He sat back in his chair. ‘What?’
‘I don’t know.’ I shook my head. ‘I suppose I just don’t buy it. It feels weird.’
‘Ohhhh. OK. So, you’re not used to men being spontaneous and doing nice things for you?’
I hummed a little, knowing he was trying to play the misunderstood martyr card.
‘I’m the one who does nice things for myself, Philip.
I don’t need anything from a man or from anyone, I guess.
And I don’t mean to sound rude, but it feels strange that you’d come here.
We were practically strangers a week ago, and suddenly you’ve saved my job and now you’re bringing me Chinese food, plus a bunch of morbid roses? ’
‘Yes. You’re welcome, by the way.’ He tucked into his food again, and I could feel my blood boil. Do women actually fall for this shit? The Mr Nice Guy act? I could see right through him. We ate in silence for a while; the food was good and I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.
‘How long have you been single, Ella?’ Philip asked.
‘A while,’ I replied bluntly.
‘Yes, I can tell.’ He gave a cheeky grin, pushing his plate over to the side of the desk, having had enough.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I sat back in my chair, wondering if my shoe was ready to come off again.
He looked me up and down. ‘It was just an observation.’
I didn’t want to give in to his schoolboy tactics, so I took a few more spoonfuls of curry.
‘How long have you been single?’ I eventually returned the question, remembering the unanswered calls from different women showing up on his phone.
Philip laughed loudly. I could tell he felt uncomfortable with the roles reversed. Then he let out a huge groan and rubbed his head.
‘ Ahhh. It’s not long then – that’s if you’re even single now!’ I tutted. I stood up to clear the plates, but as I reached for Philip’s, I knocked over his can. ‘Oh, shit!’ I panicked as the sticky orange liquid spread quickly all over my desk.
Philip jumped up to save his expensive suit. ‘Are there any tissues or a cloth?’ he asked.
‘Yeah! Erm .?.?. In the drawer,’ I said, flustered, picking up my keyboard to avoid it being flooded. ‘Fuck, hurry!’ I said, hating the idea of working in a sticky mess.
‘I am trying!’ Philip rummaged through my desk drawers, eventually finding the tissues. As he lifted them out, he gasped. My eyes darted down to my drawer, where the giant Rampant Rabbit sat proudly.
‘Oh my God!’ I said.
‘Jesus Christ! Look at the size of that bad boy!’ Philip burst out laughing, and I felt my insides curl.
I slammed shut the drawer behind him, pulled tissues from the box in his hand and began mopping my desk. My face was radiating enough warmth to heat the entire city.
‘Well, Ella! You keep surprising me, don’t you?’ He really was laughing loudly.
I ignored him, not knowing what to say. His guffawing continued. Eventually, when my desk had been saved from the orange tsunami, I turned to him.
‘It’s not mine!’ I spat.