Chapter Nineteen
Nineteen
For the next week or so, nothing can pierce my happiness.
Nothing. I waft into work every day on a cloud, sit all day smiling at my computer terminal, then waft home again.
Paul’s sarcastic comments bounce off me like bubbles.
I don’t even notice when Artemis introduces me to a visiting advertising team as her personal assistant.
They can all say what they like. Because what they don’t know is that when I’m smiling at my computer, it’s because Jack has just sent me another funny little e-mail.
What they don’t know is that the guy who employs them all is in love with me. Me. Emma Corrigan. The junior.
“Well, of course, I had several in-depth conversations with Jack Harper on the subject,” I can hear Artemis saying on the phone as I tidy up the proofs cupboard. “Yup. And he felt—as I do—that the concept really needed to be refocused.”
Bullshit! She never had any in-depth conversations with Jack Harper. I’m almost tempted to e-mail him straightaway and tell him how she’s using his name in vain.
Except that would be a bit mean.
And besides, she’s not the only one. Everyone is dropping Jack Harper into their conversations, left, right, and center. It’s like, now that he’s gone, everyone’s suddenly pretending they were his best friend and he thought their idea was perfect.
Except me. I’m just keeping my head down and not mentioning his name at all.
Partly because I know that if I do, I’ll blush bright red or give some huge, goofy smile or something.
Partly because I have a horrible feeling that once I start talking about Jack, I won’t be able to stop.
But mainly because no one ever brings the subject up with me.
After all, what would I know about Jack Harper? I’m only the crappy assistant.
The only thing clouding my life at the moment is that Gloria still hasn’t been replaced, and I’m still doing all her extra tasks, as well as trying to come up with copy for a new series of pamphlets for a tie-in with Endwich Bank.
I made a real effort with them—but when I showed Paul my initial ideas, he was more interested in whether I’d ordered a fruit basket for his stupid mother’s birthday.
Actually, his mother isn’t stupid. I think she has a Ph.D. But still, it’s not my job to send her a basket full of pineapples, papaya, and star fruit.
Who eats star fruit, anyway?
“Hey!” says Nick, suddenly looking up from his phone. “Jack Harper’s going to be on television!”
There’s an interested frisson around the office, and I attempt to look as surprised as everyone else. Jack mentioned he was going to be doing a TV interview. I didn’t know it was going to be screened today, though.
“Is a TV crew coming to the office or anything?” says Artemis, smoothing down her hair.
“Dunno—”
“OK, folks,” says Paul, coming out of his office.
“Jack Harper has done an interview on Business Watch, and it’s being broadcast at twelve.
A television is being set up in the conference room; anyone who would like to can go along and watch there.
But we need one person to stay behind and man the phones. ” His gaze falls on me.
“What?”
“You can stay and man the phones,” says Paul. “OK?”
I knew it. I’m turning into the bloody departmental secretary.
“No! I mean…I want to watch!” I say in dismay. “Can’t someone else stay behind? Artemis, can’t you stay?”
“I’m not staying!” says Artemis at once. “Honestly, Emma, don’t be so selfish. It won’t be at all interesting for you.”
“Yes, it will!”
“No, it won’t.” She rolls her eyes.
“It will! He’s…he’s my boss, too!”
“Yes, well,” says Artemis with a sarcastic smirk, “I think there’s a slight difference. You’ve barely even spoken to Jack Harper!”
“I have!” I say before I can stop myself. “I have! I—” I break off, my cheeks turning pink. “I…once went to a meeting he was at.”
“And served him a cup of tea?” Artemis meets Nick’s eyes with a little smirk.
I’m furious. Blood is pounding through my ears. I wish just once I could think of something really scathing and clever to put Artemis down.
“Enough, Artemis,” says Paul. “Emma, you’re the most junior. You’re staying here, and that’s settled.”
—
By five to twelve the office is completely empty. Apart from me, a fly, and a whirring fax machine. Disconsolately I reach into my desk drawer and take out an Aero. And a Flake for good measure. I’m just unwrapping the Aero and taking a big bite when the phone rings.
“OK,” comes Lissy’s voice down the line. “I’ve set the video.”
“Thanks, Liss,” I say through a mouthful of chocolate. “You’re a star.”
“I can’t believe you’re not allowed to watch!”
“I know. It’s completely unfair.” I slump deeper in my chair and take another bite of Aero.
“Well, never mind. We’ll watch it again tonight. Jemima’s going to put the video on in her room, too, so we should definitely catch it.”
“What’s Jemima doing at home?” I say in surprise.
“She’s taken a sickie so she can do a home spa day. Oh, and your dad rang,” she adds cautiously.
“Really?” I feel a flicker of apprehension. “What did he say?”
“He wondered if you were ill, as you haven’t called him back.”
“Oh.” I twist the telephone cord, feeling guilty.
I haven’t talked to Mum or Dad since the debacle at the corporate family day. I just can’t bring myself to. It was all too painful and embarrassing, and for all I know, they’ve completely taken Kerry’s side.
So when Dad rang here on the following Monday, I said I was really busy and I’d call him back…and I never did. And the same thing at home.
I know I’ll have to talk to them sometime. But not now. Not while I’m so happy.
“He’d seen the trailer for the interview,” says Lissy. “He recognized Jack and just wondered if you knew about it. And he said…” She pauses. “He really wanted to talk to you about a few things.”
“Oh.” I gaze at my notepad, where I’ve doodled a huge spiral over a telephone number I was supposed to be keeping.
“Anyway, he and your mum are going to be watching it,” says Lissy. “And your grandpa.”
Great. Just great. The entire world is watching Jack on television. The entire world except me.
When I’ve put the phone down, I go and get myself an orange juice and a coffee from the new machine, which actually does make a very nice café au lait.
I come back and look around the quiet office, then go and pour the orange juice into Artemis’s spider plant.
And some photocopier toner for good measure.
Then I feel a bit mean. It’s not the plant’s fault, after all.
“Sorry,” I say out loud, and touch one of its leaves. “It’s just your owner is a real cow. But then, you probably knew that.”
“Talking to your mystery man?” comes a sarcastic voice from behind me, and I turn around to see Connor standing in the doorway.
“Connor!” I say. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m on my way to watch the TV interview. But I just wanted a quick word.” He takes a few steps into the office and fixes me with an accusing frown. “So. You lied to me.”
Oh, shit. Has Connor guessed? Did he see something at the corporate family day?
“Er, what do you mean?” I say nervously.
“I’ve just had a little chat with Tristan from Design!” Connor’s voice swells with indignation. “He’s gay! You’re not going out with him at all, are you?”
He cannot be serious. Connor didn’t seriously think I was going out with Tristan from Design, did he? I mean, Tristan could not look more gay if he wore leopard skin hot pants and walked around humming Barbra Streisand hits.
“No,” I say, managing to keep a straight face. “I’m not going out with Tristan.”
“Well!” says Connor, nodding as though he’s scored a hundred points and doesn’t quite know what to do with them. “Well. I just don’t see why you feel it necessary to lie to me. That’s all. I just would have thought we could be a little honest with each other.”
“Connor…it’s just…It’s complicated. OK? And anyway, I didn’t lie to you—”
“Fine. Whatever.” He gives me his most wounded-martyr look and starts walking away.
“Wait!” I say suddenly. “Hang on a minute! Connor, could you do me a real favor?” I wait until he turns, then pull a wheedling face. “Could you possibly man the phones here while I quickly go and watch Jack Harper’s interview?”
I know Connor isn’t my number one fan at the moment. But I don’t exactly have a lot of choice.
“Could I do what?” says Connor, obviously astonished at such a request.
“Could you man the phones! Just for half an hour. I’d be so incredibly grateful.”
“I can’t believe you’re even asking me that!” says Connor, incredulous. “You know how important Jack Harper is to me! Emma, I really don’t know what you’ve turned into.”
—
After he’s stalked off, I take several messages for Paul, one for Nick, and one for Caroline. I file a couple of letters. I address a couple of envelopes. And then, after twenty minutes, I’ve had it.
This is stupid. I love Jack. He loves me. I should be there, supporting him. I pick up my coffee and hurry along the corridor. The meeting room is crowded with people, but I edge in at the back and squeeze through two guys who aren’t even watching Jack but are discussing some football match.
“What are you doing here?” says Artemis as I arrive at her side. “What about the phones?”
“No taxation without representation,” I hear myself responding coolly, which perhaps isn’t exactly appropriate (I’m not even sure what it means) but has the desired effect of shutting her up.
I crane my neck so I can see over everyone’s head, and my eyes focus on the screen…
and suddenly there he is. Sitting on a chair in a studio, in jeans and a white T-shirt.
There’s a bright blue backdrop and the words “Business Inspirations” behind him, and two smart-looking interviewers sitting opposite him.
There he is. The man I love.
This is the first time I’ve seen him since we slept together, it occurs to me. But he looks as gorgeous as ever, his eyes all dark and glossy under the studio lights.
Oh, God, I want to kiss him.