'I'm sorry,' I say helplessly. 'Lissy, I'm not laughing at you, honestly.' I take a deep breath and try desperately to clamp my lips together. But all I can see is merchant bankers dressed in tutus, clutching their briefcases, dancing to
Swan Lake
. A judge leaping across the stage, robes flying.
'It's not funny!' Lissy's saying. 'It's just a few like-minded professionals who want to express themselves through dance. What's wrong with that?'
'I'm sorry,' I say again, wiping my eyes and trying to regain control of myself. 'Nothing's wrong with it. I think it's brilliant. So … are you having a show, or anything?'
'It's in three weeks. That's why we've been doing extra practices.'
'Three weeks?' I stare at her, my laughter melting away. 'Weren't you going to
tell
me?'
'I … I hadn't decided,' she says, scuffing her dancing shoe on the floor. 'I was embarrassed.'
'Don't be embarrassed!' I say in dismay. 'Lissy, I'm sorry I laughed. I think it's brilliant. And I'm going to come and watch. I'll sit right in the front row …'
'Not the front row. You'll put me off.'
'I'll sit in the middle, then. Or at the back. Wherever you want me.' I give her a curious look. 'Lissy, I never knew you could dance.'
'Oh, I can't,' she says at once. 'I'm crap. It's just a bit of fun. D'you want a coffee?'
As I follow Lissy into the kitchen, she gives me a raised-eyebrow look. 'So, you've got a bit of a nerve, accusing
me
of having sex. Where were you last night?'
'With Jack,' I admit with a dreamy smile. 'Having sex. All night.'
'I knew it!'
'Oh God, Lissy. I'm completely in love with him.'
'In
love
?' She flicks on the kettle. 'Emma, are you sure? You've only known him about five minutes.'
'That doesn't matter! We're already complete soul-mates. There's no need to pretend with him … or try to be something I'm not … and the sex is amazing … He's everything I never had with Connor. Everything. And he's
interested
in me. You know, he asks me questions all the time, and he seems really genuinely fascinated by the answers.'
I spread my arms with a blissful smile and sink down onto a chair. 'You know, Lissy, all my life I had this feeling that something wonderful was about to happen to me. I always just …
knew
it, deep down inside. And now it has.'
'So where is he now?' says Lissy, shaking coffee into the cafetière.
'He's going away for a bit. He's going to brainstorm some new concept with a creative team.'
'What?'
'I dunno. He didn't say. It'll be really intense and he probably won't be able to phone me. But he's going to email every day,' I add happily.
'Biscuit?' says Lissy, opening the tin.
'Oh, er … yes. Thanks.' I take a digestive and give it a thoughtful nibble. 'You know, I've got this whole new theory about relationships. It's so simple. Everyone in the world should be more honest with each other. Everyone should share! Men and women should share, families should share, world leaders should share!'
'Hmm.' Lissy looks at me silently for a few moments. 'Emma, did Jack ever tell you why he had to go rushing off in the middle of the night that time?'
'No,' I say in surprise. 'But it's his business.'
'Did he ever tell you what all those phone calls were about on your first date?'
'Well … no.'
'Has he told you anything about himself other than the bare minimum?'
'He's told me plenty!' I say defensively. 'Lissy, what's your problem?'
'I don't have a problem,' she says mildly. 'I'm just wondering … is it you who's doing all the sharing?'
'What?'
'Is he sharing himself with you?' She pours hot water onto the coffee. 'Or are you just sharing yourself with him?'
'We're sharing with each other,' I say, looking away and fiddling with a fridge magnet.
Which is true, I tell myself firmly. Jack's shared loads with me! I mean, he's told me …
He's told me all about …
Well, anyway. He probably just hasn't been in the mood for talking very much. Is that a crime?
'Have some coffee,' says Lissy, handing me a mug.
'Thanks,' I say, a touch grudgingly, and Lissy sighs.
'Emma, I'm not trying to spoil things. He does seem really lovely—'
'He is! Honestly, Lissy, you don't know what he's like. He's so romantic. Do you know what he said this morning? He said the minute I started talking on that plane, he was gripped.'
'Really?' Lissy gazes at me. 'He said that? That is pretty romantic.'
'I told you!' I can't help beaming at her. 'Lissy, he's perfect!'
NINETEEN
For the next couple of weeks, nothing can pierce my happy glow. Nothing. I waft into work 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 secretary. 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 email. 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 email him straight away 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 centre. It's as if now he's gone, everyone's suddenly pretending they were his best friend and he thought their idea was perfect.
Apart from 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 if I once 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, after all.
'Hey!' says Nick, looking up from his phone. 'Jack Harper's going to be on television!'
'What?'
I feel a jolt of surprise. Jack's going to be on television?
How come he didn't tell me?
'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 large meeting 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. 'Emma. You can stay.'
'What?' I say blankly.
'You can stay and man the phones,' says Paul. 'OK?'
'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,'I say desperately. 'He's … he's my boss too!'
'Yes, well,' says Artemis sarcastically, '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 stare at her furiously, blood pounding through my ears, wishing just once I could think of something really scathing and clever to put Artemis down.
'Enough, Artemis,' says Paul. 'Emma, 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.
'Oh right.' I feel a flicker of apprehension. 'What did he say?'
I haven't talked to Mum or Dad since the débâcle 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, never did. And the same thing at home.
I know I'll have to talk to them some time. 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 stare 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 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 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 round in shock, 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 stare. 'So. You lied to me.'
Oh shit. Has Connor guessed? Did he see something at the Corporate Family Day?
'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 leopardskin hotpants, carried a handbag, 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.' He lifts his chin in wounded dignity. '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?'
'Fine. Whatever. It's your boat, Emma.'
There's a slight pause.
'It's my what?' I say puzzledly. 'My
boat
?'
'Court,' he says with a flash of annoyance. 'I meant to say … the ball's in your court.'
'Oh right,' I say, none the wiser. 'Er … OK. I'll bear that in mind.'
'Good.' 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 favour?' 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
?' Connor stares at me in astonishment.
'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 incredulously. '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 sit there for twenty minutes. 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 suddenly, I've had it.
This is stupid. This is more than stupid. It's ridiculous. 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 between 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 heads, and my eyes focus on the screen – and 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.