Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 198235 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 991(@200wpm)___ 793(@250wpm)___ 661(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 198235 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 991(@200wpm)___ 793(@250wpm)___ 661(@300wpm)
‘Ava, I’m sorry to bother you,’ Sal’s apprehensive voice almost makes me feel guilty.
‘What’s up, Sal?’ I look up at our plain-Jane, turned office siren, and force a smile, until I see the plaid skirt. It’s back, and I was so busy throwing cautionary looks at everyone when I arrived this morning, I hadn’t noticed. I also hadn’t noticed the lack of polished nails or scoop neck top. Or the face that looks like it’s just been dealt the most dreadful news. She’s been dumped.
‘Patrick has asked me to run through all of the invoices due for payment. Here’s a list.’ She hands me a printout of clients. ‘All of the highlighted sections are due within a week, and he’d like you all to gently remind your clients so we get the payments on time.’
I frown and cast my eyes over the spread sheet. ‘But they’re not due yet. I can’t remind them when they’ve not even forgotten.’ It’s embarrassing enough chasing overdue invoices.
She shrugs. ‘I’m just the messenger.’
‘He’s never asked us to do this before.’
‘I’m just the messenger!’ she snaps, and I recoil in my chair. Then she bursts into tears. I should be jumping up and soothing her, but I’m just sitting here, watching her wail all over my desk. She’s snorting and sniffling, attracting the attention of everyone, including Patrick, who has ventured from his office to see what the commotion is all about, but he retreats hastily when he spots Sal in tears. Tom and Victoria sit tapping their pens, neither one of them coming to aid me in my distress. And I am distressed. I don’t know what to do with her, but as no one else seems to be willing, it’s down to me to sort her out. I slide the spread sheet into my tray and stand, taking Sal’s elbow and leading her into the toilets, where I stuff her hands full of tissue and wait silently for her to pull herself together.
After a good five minutes, she finally speaks. ‘I hate men.’ Is all she says.
It makes me smile. I think every woman on the planet has said that line at some point in their life. ‘Things not too good between you and…’
‘Don’t say his name!’ she blurts. ‘I never want to hear it again.’
It’s a good job because I can’t remember it. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘No.’ she spits, rubbing away at her cheeks. There is no make-up transferring onto the tissue. She has well and truly returned to boring Sal. ‘Never!’ she adds on a filthy look.
I’m relieved. My brain wouldn’t absorb it, even if she did tell me. I’d be listening, but not engaging. ‘Okay,’ I rub her arm in a gesture to suggest that I understand when I’m actually more relieved.
‘He’s here, then he’s not. He calls, then he doesn’t. What does that mean?’ She looks at me expectantly, like I might know the answer.
‘You mean he’s messing you around?’ I’m engaging.
‘I’m on call when he wants, so yes. I sit around waiting for him to ring me, and when he does want to see me, it’s lovely, but all he wants to talk about is me. My friends. My job.’ She sniffles a bit more. ‘When will he want to have sex?’
I cough on a laugh. ‘You’re worried because he hasn’t tried to get you in bed?’ That’s a rarity. She should be pleased.
‘Yes!’ She collapses against the wall. ‘I don’t know how much more we can talk.’
‘It’s nice that he wants to get to know you, Sal. Too many men are after one thing.’ Is she sexually frustrated? Or is she sexually clueless? Has she ever even had sex? I can’t imagine it, and if I go by the deepening red of her cheeks, then I think I might have my answer. Sal’s a virgin? Fucking hell! How old is she, anyway?
I’m suddenly more than ready to engage, but Victoria’s head pops around the door, halting my intended interrogation tactics. ‘Ava, your phone is ringing off the hook.’ She can’t resist a quick inspection of herself in the mirror before she leaves.
‘Sal, I’d better get that.’ It might be Jesse, and he’ll be beside himself. ‘Will you be okay?’
She nods, sniffles and blows her nose before running her teary eyes all over me. ‘Are you feeling better?’ she asks.
‘Yes,’ I frown, forgetting my recent absences from work. I’m not ready to share my news yet.
‘You don’t look it. What’s wrong, anyway?’
I search my brain for a feasible reason for my constant dashing to the toilet and bad moods. ‘Tummy bug.’ is the best that I come up with.
‘And married life? Good? Honeymoon?’
I stand for a few silent moments, wondering how this turned around on me. ‘All great.’ I lie. ‘Maybe we’ll catch a holiday soon. Jesse’s busy.’ I lie again, but Sal is one of the few people in my life who hasn’t worked out my bad habit, so I’m confident that I’ve not been rumbled. I leave her before she can pry any further and rush back to my desk, hoping to find a mass of missed calls from Jesse. I’m sorely disappointed. It’s Ruth Quinn. I haven’t spoken to her since I abandoned our meeting, and I’m not sure I want to, but it starts wailing again in my hand. I don’t need to call her back. She’s going to call me until I answer, and I can’t avoid her forever.