Chapter Eight
Eight
I arrive at work the next morning with exactly one aim: Avoid Jack Harper.
It should be easy enough. The Panther Corporation is a huge company in a huge building. He’ll be busy in other departments today. He’ll probably be tied up in loads of meetings. He’ll probably spend all day on the eleventh floor or something.
Even so, as I approach the big glass doors, my pace slows down, and I find myself peering inside to see if he’s about.
“All right, Emma?” says Dave the security guard, coming to open the door for me. “You look lost.”
“No! I’m great! Thanks!” I give a relaxed little laugh, my eyes darting about the foyer.
I can’t see him anywhere. This is going to be fine. He probably isn’t in yet. He probably isn’t even coming in today! I throw my hair back, walk briskly across the marble floor, and start to head up the stairs.
“Jack!” I suddenly hear as I’m nearing the first floor. “Have you got a minute?”
“Sure.”
It’s his voice. Where on earth—
Bewildered, I look around and suddenly spot him on the landing above, talking to Graham Hillingdon.
Shit. If he looked down now, he’d see me.
Why does he have to stand right there? Doesn’t he have some big, important office he can go to?
Anyway. I’ll just…take a different route. Very slowly I tiptoe back down the stairs, trying not to click my heels on the marble.
As soon as I’m out of his view, I feel myself relax, and walk more quickly back down to the foyer. I’ll go by lift instead. No problem. I step confidently across the floor, and I’m right in the middle of the huge expanse of marble when I freeze.
“That’s right.” It’s his voice again. And it seems to be getting nearer. Or am I just paranoid?
“…think I’ll take a good look at…”
My head is swiveling around bewilderedly. Where is he now? Which direction is he going in?
“…really think that…”
Shit. He’s coming down the stairs. There’s nowhere to hide!
Without thinking twice, I fly to the glass doors, push them open, and hurry out of the building. I scuttle down the steps, run about a hundred yards down the road, and stop, panting.
This is not going well.
OK, I can’t stay out here on the street all day. Come on, think. There must be a way around this. There must be—
Yes! I have a totally brilliant idea. This will definitely work.
Three minutes and a trip to the newsstand later, I once more approach the doors of the Panther building, totally engrossed in an article in The Times. I can’t see anything around me. And no one can see my face. This is the perfect disguise!
I push the door open with my shoulder and walk across the foyer and up the stairs, all without looking up.
As I stride along the corridor toward the marketing department, I feel all cocooned and safe, buried in my Times.
I should do this more often. No one can get me in here.
It’s a really reassuring feeling, almost as though I’m invisible, or—
“Ow! Sorry!”
I’ve crashed into someone. Shit. I lower my paper, to see Paul staring at me, rubbing his head.
“Emma, what the fuck are you doing?”
“I was just…reading The Times. I’m really sorry….”
“All right. Anyway, where the hell have you been? I want you to do tea and coffee at the departmental meeting. Ten o’clock.”
“What tea and coffee?” I say, puzzled. They don’t usually have any refreshments at the departmental meeting. In fact, usually about six people turn up, if that.
“We’re having tea and coffee today. And biscuits. All right?”
I automatically start to reply, “Yes, of course.”
Then I stop. Now that I think about it, this isn’t all right.
“Paul, when are you going to replace Gloria? I mean, this is the kind of thing she used to do.”
There’s silence.
“We’re in the process of recruitment,” Paul says at last.
He’s not quite meeting my eye.
All of a sudden I remember a conversation I overheard in the lifts a few weeks ago. Two women from Personnel were talking about staff budgets and the word “trimming” came up.
Like trimming a tree? Or like trimming split ends?
“You are going to get a new departmental secretary, aren’t you?” I try to sound lighthearted—but inside I can feel twinges of alarm. If they don’t replace Gloria, guess who’ll end up as the general dogsbody.
“Of course!” Paul pauses. “Probably.”
“Probably?”
“Emma, I really don’t have time for this!” says Paul impatiently. “Jack Harper’s coming to the meeting. I’ve got a lot to do—”
“What?” I feel a new consternation, sweeping all thoughts of trimming from my head.
“Jack Harper’s coming to the meeting. So hurry up.”
“Do I have to go?” I say before I can stop myself.
“What?”
“I was just wondering if I…have to go, or whether…” I trail off.
“Emma, if you can serve tea and coffee by telepathy,” says Paul sarcastically, “then you’re more than welcome to stay at your desk.
If not, would you most kindly get your arse in gear and up to the conference room.
You know, for someone who wants to advance their career… ” He shakes his head and stalks off.
How can this day have gone so wrong already and I haven’t even sat down yet?
—
I dump my bag and jacket at my desk, hurry back down the corridors to the lifts, and press the Up button. A moment later the doors open.
No. No.
This is a bad dream.
Jack Harper is standing alone in the lift, in old jeans and a brown cashmere sweater, with a mobile phone in his hand.
Before I can stop myself, I take a startled step backward. Jack Harper puts his mobile away, tilts his head to one side, and gives me a quizzical look. He looks disheveled and there are shadows under his eyes.
“Are you getting into the elevator?”
“Um…”
I’m stuffed. I can’t say, “No, I just pressed the button for fun, ha-ha!”
“Yes,” I say at last, and walk into the lift with stiff legs. “Yes, I am.”
The doors close, and we begin to travel upward in silence. I’ve got a knot of tension in my stomach.
“Erm, Mr. Harper,” I begin, and he looks up. “I just wanted to apologize for my…for the, um, shirking episode the other day. It won’t happen again.”
“You have drinkable coffee now,” says Jack Harper. “So you shouldn’t need to go to Starbucks, at any rate…”
“I know. I’m really sorry.” My face is hot.
“And may I assure you, that was the very last time I ever do such a thing.” I clear my throat.
“I am fully committed to the Panther Corporation, and I look forward to serving this company as best I can, giving one hundred percent, every day, now and in the future.”
I almost want to add “Amen.”
“Really.” Jack nods, looking serious. “That’s great.” He thinks for a moment. “Emma, can you keep a secret?”
“Er, yes!” I say apprehensively. “What is it?”
Jack leans close and whispers, “I used to play hooky, too.”
“What?” I say in astonishment.
“In my first job. I had a friend I used to hang out with. We had a code, too. One of us would ask the other to bring him the Leopold file.”
“What was the Leopold file?”
“It didn’t exist.” He grins. “It was just an excuse to get away from our desks.”
“Oh. Oh, right!”
Suddenly I feel a bit better. Jack Harper used to skive? I would have thought he was too busy being brilliant.
The lift stops at floor three and the doors open, but no one gets in.
“So, your colleagues seemed a very agreeable lot,” says Jack as we start traveling up again. “A very friendly, industrious team. Are they like that all the time?”
“Absolutely!” I say at once. “We enjoy cooperating with one another, in an integrated, team-based, um, operational…” I’m trying to think of another long word when I make the mistake of catching his eye.
He knows this is bullshit, doesn’t he?
Oh, God. What’s the point?
“OK.” I lean against the lift wall. “In real life, we don’t behave anything like that. Paul usually shouts at me six times a day, and Nick and Artemis hate each other, and we don’t usually sit around discussing literature. We were all faking it.”
“You amaze me.” His mouth twitches. “The atmosphere in the admin. department also seemed very false. My suspicions were aroused when two employees spontaneously started singing the Panther Corporation song. I didn’t even know there was a Panther Corporation song.”
“Neither did I,” I say in surprise. “Is it any good?”
“What do you think?” He grimaces in mock horror and I give a little giggle.
It’s bizarre, but the atmosphere between us isn’t remotely awkward anymore. In fact, it almost feels like we’re old friends or something.
“How about this corporate family day?” he says. “Looking forward to it?”
“Like having teeth pulled out.”
“I got that vibe.” He nods, looking amused. “And what…” He hesitates. “What do people think about me?” He casually rumples his hair. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to—”
“No, everyone likes you!” I think for a few moments. “Although…some people think your friend is creepy.”
“Who, Sven?” Jack stares at me for a minute, then throws back his head and laughs. “I can assure you, Sven is one of my oldest, closest friends, and he’s not in the least bit creepy. In fact—”
He breaks off as the lift doors ping. We both snap back into impassive expressions and move slightly away from each other. The doors open, and I freeze.
Connor is standing on the other side.
When he sees Jack Harper, his face lights up as though he can’t believe his luck.
“Hi there!” I say, trying to sound natural.
“Hi,” he says, his eyes shining with excitement.
“Plenty of room,” says Jack easily.
There’s an infinitesimal pause—then he moves a couple of steps closer to me.
Somewhere in my body a tiny pulse starts beating. Which must be because of the weirdness of the situation.
“Which floor would you like?” says Jack.
“Nine, please.”
Jack reaches past to press the button. I catch the faint smell of his musky aftershave, familiar from the plane. I don’t move. I don’t dare look up.
“Mr. Harper, may I quickly introduce myself?” Connor eagerly holds out his hand. “Connor Martin from Research. You’re coming to visit our department later on today.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Connor,” says Jack. “Research is vital for a company like ours.”