Authors: Nicola Yeager
Francis licked her lips and then hiccupped. “Well,
apparently there’s only one other applicant who will be asked for interview and
she’s only got four years of experience,” she said squeezing Katie’s hand with
encouragement.
Digesting the news Katie said excitedly, “But I’ve got
twice as much as that!”
“Yep, I think you’re going to walk it, my lovely,”
Francis said grinning. “And I can’t think of anyone else that deserves it more
- sounds like a done-deal to me.”
“Oh, I hope so, Francis,” she said, “I know I’ll be a
good project manager. And I want it so much I can just about taste it!”
Francis laughed. “Well, here comes our starter, let’s
taste these fabulous prawns instead.”
The fresh seafood smell was divine and Katie’s mouth
watered in anticipation. “These prawns are delicious, they’re so succulent and
sweet,” she exclaimed. Francis nodded her head in agreement with her mouth full
and then lapsed into contented silence while she gave the food her undivided
attention.
Once the meal was finished the chief executive stood on
the stage and an automatic respectful silence fell upon the room. He was a
chubby man in his late fifties with a bald head that the light seemed to
twinkle on, almost as though it had been polished for the special occasion. He
explained how well they were doing against their retail competitors and the
layout of the new campaign while Katie listened avidly hanging upon his every
word. It was all very exciting and ideas started to race around in her mind.
The business unit manager for her department, David
Shaw, stood up to speak next and boasted about the increase in his sections
sales. “And, in particular, I’d like to mention the dessert section which has
increased our sales this year by nearly 60% which is largely due to Katie
Wilkinson and her team,” he said proudly smiling across at Katie.
Her heart soared with happiness and she could feel her
cheeks flush as everyone turned to look at them and began to clap. Katie grinned
back at everyone and then silently mouthed the words, ‘thank you’ at Francis,
Harry, and Alice for all their hard work.
When the speeches were over she stood next to David,
discussing some of his new ideas and while she was making sure he knew that she
was one hundred per cent behind the campaign, the chief executive approached
them with a young man she hadn’t seen before. He was tall and slim with a slick
young Tom Cruise look about him and wore a ‘look at me I’m stinking rich and
don’t I know it’, expression on his face.
“David!” the chief exec boomed in his loud penetrating
voice and shook his hand vigorously, “I’d like to introduce my nephew, Alex.”
David’s face flushed with the recognition, and the
friendly greeting - he shook Alex’s hand.
Katie gave the chief exec her warmest smile as David
said in reply, “This is Katie Wilkinson, my product development team leader in
the dessert section.”
Alex reached across his uncle to take her hand and
grasped it so roughly that she almost squealed with shock. He was squeezing her
hand so hard she felt her pearl ring digging into her little finger.
“Alexander Jennings,” he said staring intently at her
and for one split-second Katie could see in his eyes that he knew just how much
pain he was causing to her fingers. Defiantly she met his intense stare and
without losing his eye contact she managed to slide her hand out of his
vice-like grip. While David was talking to them both she put her hands behind
her back and rubbed her stinging finger. Although she felt like wincing in
pain, the smile she’d plastered to her face never flagged.
Alex asked. “So you must be the sweet stuff in the
section, are you?”
Katie’s mind raced, who was this guy and what on earth
was he doing here? She realised the chief exec was staring at her and David was
staring at Alex with a mixture of puzzlement and apprehension.
“Sweet stuff.
Dessert?
Get it?” Alex asked and the three men laughed
loudly at the pathetic pun. She could tell David’s laughter was mixed with
relief that Katie hadn’t been affronted by the sexist connotations in the
comment and that she hadn’t retaliated, and she knew the chef exec was probably
too old and naïve to understand the hidden insult. As Alex bored them all with
tales from his time at Cambridge University she wondered where he worked and
why the chief exec had brought him - he looked more suited to posing in adverts
for Calvin Klein boxer shorts than working in food retail. Maybe he worked for
one of their competitors like Marks & Spencer or Waitrose she wondered, and
found herself staring uncontrollably at him.
In between her and Alex a young waitress with trembling
hands managed to topple two glasses of champagne on her tray, and while Katie
smiled reassuringly at her and helped her upturn one of the glasses, she
noticed Alex sneering arrogantly at the young girl as though she was a piece of
dirt under his shoe.
Hmm, what an idiot he really was, she thought, and for
the first time that night she was pleased Tim wasn’t with her because he
wouldn’t have been able to hide his contempt for this guy. It wasn’t often she
took an instant dislike to anyone but she had with Alex and was pleased when,
with a joke from the chef exec about how he was trying to get Alex to join the
company and make them all pots of lovely money, they said their farewells and
moved away to talk to another group of managers. Katie and David were stunned
into an uncomfortable silence with neither of them wanting to say exactly what
was on their minds. So, mumbling about getting a proper drink of whisky, David
headed off to the bar and she re-joined her friends at the table.
After dancing, drinking her fill of champagne, and
smiling until her cheeks ached she said to Francis, “Gosh, it’s nearly
midnight. I’m going to get a taxi and make a push for home. I don’t want too
much of a hang-over in the morning. Can I drop you off first?”
Francis had just returned from the dance floor with
Harry where she’d been trying to teach him a jive. Failing miserably they’d had
everyone laughing hysterically. Her face was bright red with the exertion and
she was sweating profusely, the sleeves on her flowing kaftan-style dress had
ridden up exposing her fat puffy arms and Katie gently patted them back down
into place.
Heaving in and out she tried to catch her breath. “No,
Katie, I’m OK, thanks. Think I’ll cool down a little and have another drink,”
she said gulping down a glass of water.
As Katie waited in the foyer overlooking the
spectacular view of the Thames she felt her exuberant mood flatten, thinking
about Tim, and when she climbed into the back of the taxi it dawned upon her
that probably for the first time since they’d met she wasn’t actually looking
forward to seeing him. She sank gratefully into the seat and rested her head
back, silently groaning at the thought of the inevitable argument that would
take place later where she’d accuse him of letting her down again and he’d
chant out the same old excuses. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be and it
certainly wasn’t like this in all the chick-lit novels she read. The heroines
in the books were full of spirit and determination to fight for their men, and
a couple of months ago she too had been like that. But now, after trying to
hang-on in there, all she felt was bone-weary. Pep talks from Lisa and Sarah
about how Bridget Jones wouldn’t roll over and accept Tim’s bad behaviour made
her smile and when the taxi pulled up outside their apartment she took a deep
breath to bolster herself for what lay ahead, paid the driver and entered their
front door.
They always kept their keys in the glass bowl on the
small hall table and because it was empty she knew he wasn’t home from the
restaurant. She decided to go straight to bed and try to fall asleep before he
got back. This way, she decided, they wouldn’t continue the argument where
they’d left off earlier. Then, remembering his words about keeping the dress
on, she slipped it over her head and chucked it rebelliously into the laundry
basket before climbing under the soft white duvet.
Closing her eyes, she tried to empty her mind, hoping
sleep would take over but thoughts about Tim and their relationship tumbled
around mercilessly. How could things have gone so badly wrong in a couple of
months? And, although he was making it damned hard for her with his dreadful
behaviour, compared to when they’d first moved in together, she still loved him
to bits. Or did she? And, was it just the memory of the former Tim that she was
still in love with?
Knowing it wasn’t just her that he was being horrible
to helped a little as his family were also complaining about his attitude. She
remembered last week when his sister, Jenny, had called him an arrogant,
selfish prat, and his father, who was a man of few words, had sadly shook his
head in disappointment at him. But when they’d got home and she’d wanted to
talk about it, because secretly she agreed with Jenny, he’d simply shrugged his
shoulders and denied any wrong doing. At the moment it seemed to be everyone
else’s fault in Tim’s eyes.
Turning onto her side, and in an attempt to pin-point
exactly when it had started she thought over the last few months week by week
and decided the changes had begun more or less from the first week in his new
job as head chef at the restaurant, and although she knew how hard he’d worked
for the promotion and certainly deserved it, she hated the way the pressure of
work seemed to be changing his personality. And he’d had such a lovely
personality when they’d first met she thought dreamily, sinking her cheek
further into the duck-down, soft pillow.
She let her mind wander through the first week they’d
got together, remembering how lovely, kind, and down to earth he’d been. They’d
met through Frances at work and it had been, if not love, then lust at first
sight, and by the end of their first date when he’d stared at her with those
penetrating green eyes and devoured her mouth with the most passionate snog
she’d ever had, she’d known he was going to be very special. She’d never kissed
anyone like that before and remembered how her lips had felt on fire, and how
she’d wanted to go on kissing him forever. In fact, she’d been so engrossed in
the kiss that without realising it she’d started to slide from the edge of the
leather settee and he’d caught her just in time to stop her falling.
Afterwards, she couldn’t remember how or when she’d wrapped her legs around his
body, because her mind had stopped thinking altogether and she’d been so
completely caught up in the exquisite pleasure of feeling that she was part of
him and he was part of her.
But now, although the sex was still fantastic, it was
the loving tenderness that seemed to be missing. Was this what happened to
couples when they’d lived together for a while? Maybe it was a classic case of
the honeymoon period being well and truly over. Deciding this was definitely a
question for Sarah and Lisa on Saturday, she heard his key in the door.
“Hey, gorgeous, thought you’d be wearing your little
black dress for me,” he whispered into her ear while she felt him cradle her
back with his body. His feet were cold when he selfishly wrapped them around
hers, and she could smell red wine on his breath, so she lay very still,
breathing deeply and hoped he would think she was asleep. It worked and she
felt him pull her further into his body and start to lightly snore. Christ, if
anyone would have told her six months ago that she’d be doing this she’d have
laughed in their faces. But she wasn’t laughing now; she moaned softly and felt
a tear leak out of the side of her eye.