Geli Voyante's Hot or Not (7 page)

‘Exactly
. Theo is aware you can have anyone.’ I squeak at this one. ‘It’s true, whether you believe it to be true or not.’

B
efore I can grill Jerry further, his phone rings.

‘
Steven,’ he mouths.

I nod
. Steven is Jerry’s mentor, and he’ll be on the phone for hours because he mostly works from home and never sees Jerry. I won’t be able to tick him off for not telling me about Theo unless I stick around and waste my freedom – not happening – but I can’t understand why Jerry hasn’t told me this life-shattering piece of news before. We’re supposed to be
friends
.

I guess
I never admitted I
fancy
Theo, and after Callum and Jake I did swear to Jerry I would never consider meeting another
New News
man outside the confines of the office. Except Jerry. But he has a natural immunity to Callum virus being gay and all. And girls. Because they don’t float my boat.   

I wave goodbye to Jerry
whose face is becoming more pained as Steven babbles on – no one can save Jerry when Steven is on the phone. I’ll phone him later on away from Theo’s listening ears to get the scoop on this hidden crush.

I grab my plastic Luella trench – so handy for the rain, yet stylish – and
pick up my tan Anya Hindmarch Beverly bag, shoving my book and iPhone in it. I’m reading the latest Sophie Kinsella book and whereas I thought I definitely needed to find out what Becky Bloomwood, now Brandon, is up to as soon as I had a spare hour, I
definitely
need to see Glinda instead. We have a lot more to talk about than previously thought!

I guess I was wrong
in thinking that today was going to be another same old, same old day. It’s proving to be quite a turn-up for the books and the day is still young… the night should only get sweeter…

‘Geli!’

So much for fleeing for the day. I made it down to the lobby.

‘Did he ask you?
’ Sara squeals at me.

‘Theo?’

‘Yes, Theo! He was so nervous
. Apparently he’s liked you
since you started here
! Who knew a man like Theo could be that insecure?’

‘But
it’s only me,’ I dejectedly point out.

‘Geli, no! You know Theo has no trouble asking women out. He’s insecure around you because he
really likes you
. He told me how he always babbles on about his column in front of you because he never knows what to say to you. He’s always thought you think he’s a big nerd.’  

‘He
likes
me?’

I
’m dumbfounded. I know Theo called me “babe” and cupped my face in his hands, but that happened forty minutes ago. The boost I experienced has now faded into the same insecurities I always feel when Theo is mentioned. Ditto for Jerry’s revelation.

‘Hel-lo, Geli! Yes!
’ Sara cries, snapping my attention back. ‘You should have seen him when you left the kitchen. He looked aghast and that’s when I realised he likes you. I can’t believe he’s managed to keep it hidden for this long, but he cracked when I confronted him. He couldn’t stop gushing!’

Bugger
. It must be true. I’m going to throw up from nerves if I can’t clamour back the idea I’m just meeting a
friend
for dinner, but I’m not. I’m meeting
Theo
. Theo who I have had the world’s biggest crush on
forever
. Theo who I have fantasised about in a multitude of positions, and not just sexually. Theo as a lover; Theo as a husband; Theo as a soul mate; Theo as a father… one day…
It’s possible this could all start tonight
.

I
yelp, much to the amusement of a passer-by, but I am about to have a major panic attack. I can feel the inside of my chest beginning to rumble in anticipation of an imminent melt-down. Chernobyl has nothing on this. 

Sara places her hands on my shoulders. ‘Geli,’ she commands. ‘Look at me.’

I look at her; I am shaking.

‘You like Theo,
Theo likes you. There will be no Trouble.’

I repeat her words
, but I’m not convinced. Our words sound hollow. Surely she knows my history of messing up? I certainly do.

‘You won’t mess this up,’
she says, like she’s read my mind. ‘Look, I have to go for my appraisal, but if you need to talk to me we have the kitchen this afternoon.’

‘I’ve got the afternoon off,
’ I mutter weakly, trying desperately to tame my panic. A nice double shot of something strong and sweet would probably help right now.

‘
What?’ Afternoons off are rare for a Wednesday. Friday, yes. Never Wednesday.

‘I told
Susie about Tiggy’s engagement.’

‘
What?
’

Ah,
yes. I was so concerned with Theo’s lunch, I had failed to mention Tiggy’s engagement.

‘Oh crap,’ she says
, looking at her watch before I can fill her in. I’m sure she’s grasped the basics anyway. She’s clever enough. ‘It’s five to. Phone me this aft. Details!’

‘Will do,’ I call after her as she hurries off
to the lift in her battered Converse. Why on earth did she swap her boots over? That girl has no clue, at least in the fashion stakes.

‘Good luck!’ I call after her because appraisals are
a serious business, even when you are a genius. I’m clueless as to how I’ve survived my previous ones.

I
almost make it to the Gherkin’s revolving door, thoughts swirling, when a voice stops me dead in my tracks mere metres from glorious freedom.

‘Angie,’ the voice cheeps at me.

Oh no. No, no, no! Please let me have hallucinated that cheep. Or, even better, let me look down and see a bunch of baby chicks at my feet… in the
Gherkin
… in December… for no reason whatsoever. That would be better.

I take a tentative step forward after quickly confirming I am not about to ste
p on and squash these baby chicks but the hallucination, for that is what it must be if there are no chicks, gets louder.

‘Angie!’
it roars at me this time, and I hear the pout in the tone.

There is only one person in this world evil enough to call me “Angie” and she calls me it exactly because she knows I hate it. I have
always
been called Geli – except when I was really naughty as a child – but no one calls me Angie. No one. Ever. Except
her
.

I slowly turn around but I know what I will see before I clock eyes on her. She’ll be stood there
, a tiny dress resting on her upper thighs and cleavage. Sod propriety at work; she works for
Glitz,
plus it gets her dates when she’s out and about around Liverpool Street. All the suits around here are a sucker for a dress given their largely testosterone-filled working environments.

T
hen there’ll be dizzying heels that will make her taller than me; she enjoys towering over the “little people” as she bitchily puts it. One hand will certainly be on her hip, the other will be waving a finger at me in mock telling off. Her lips will be blood red – her nails will match the shade spot on – and her hair will either be perfectly straight and falling over her cleavage in blonde curtains, or it will be wavy.
That
depends on her mood and schedule.

It’s my most hated sight in the world –
a sight etched in my memory – except I know there will be one alteration I’m not yet accustomed to, a new addition to her trademark look.

As I complete my turn, I see it. There it sits on the finger she is wagging at me, just like predicted, a platinum and ruby engagement ring. I
bet
it’s from De Beers. As it’s that big and dazzling, I’m almost certain I catch my reflection in it before my eyes travel upwards to be met with the most disgusting sight in the world – a genuinely smiling Tiggy Boodles. I wonder if Calvin is compensating for something with the size of that ring.

‘Angie!’ S
he thrusts her ring in my face – just in case I missed it, no doubt. Bitch.

‘
Is that one of your mum’s, Antigone? Had a root through her jewels again? You Boodles are excellent at laying your greasy paws on what’s not yours.’ I spit this out with a sardonic smile that will confuse her.

She scowls at Antigone, but hey! It’s her name! I can’t help
it if her mum had a thing for the Ancient Greeks and decided to name her after Oedipus and Jocasta’s child… it explains a lot really. She’s lucky she can shorten it to Tiggy, unlike Angie, which is certainly not my preferred shortening of Angelica. However, I would prefer her to call me Angelica if she won’t call me Geli. Then again, I would prefer her not to call me anything if that means she’s not inflicting herself upon me,
especially
if that means she’s not shoving her stupid engagement ring in my face.

She ig
nores this. ‘Angie, I’m engaged!’ She declares this wildly, in case I had failed to grasp that fact. Only a complete moron wouldn’t be able to work it out; I’m not
that
stupid.

She is relentless. Most people would take offence at my previous remark, but not Tiggy. She ignores it because she is
that
self-centred and only cares about her bloody engagement. A bloody engagement I do not want to hear about. No doubt her stupid stepfather will be walking her down the aisle in the absence of her father. That thought has ruined my appetite instantaneously. Thanks, Tiggy.

‘Oh,’ I manage to say. ‘You’re eng
aged? Well I’d better not keep you if you’ve got a previous commitment to attend,’ I trill sarcastically. ‘No need to stop and chat to little ol’ me!’

This comment results in an almighty glare from her. ‘For
fuck’s sake, Angie. Can you not be nice?’   

‘No,’ I curtly reply. Not to Tiggy anyway.

She actually stamps her foot at that one like the madam she is. I’m surprised the force doesn’t snap her precious Jimmy Choo heel off but then again those shoes are made to withstand catwalk hissy fits and temper tantrums.

‘Just for one day Angelica, c
an’t you be nice?’

The Angelica surprises me
. ‘Fine. Congratulations.’

‘Thank you.’

She smiles; I grimace.

‘Can I go now?’

‘Angie,’ she pouts. I knew the Angelica wouldn’t last long. ‘Don’t you want to know the details?’

‘Not particularly,’ I answer
truthfully.

She tosses her hair back in disgust at this. What she fails to realise though is that I don’t have a
penis
and therefore this hair shaking does nothing for me. Sorry.

S
he sighs. ‘Where are you going anyway?’

Finally
she’s realising I do not want to hear one stupid thing about her stupid engagement, even if I am secretly curious to hear how Tiggy snagged a gorgeous catch like Calvin Murphy-Lee. Thinking that through, I realise I have my own gorgeous catch in the form of Theodore Bones. Let Tiggy marry Calvin, I have Theo! Potentially… if I don’t mess up… and cause Trouble… I don’t have him at all, do I? Gah.

‘Lunch with Glinda.
’

‘
Ooooooh,’ she says like I’ve announced something wonderful. Spending time with G
is
brilliant, but it’s not worth Tiggy’s orgasm. ‘Can I come?’

‘Are y
ou a natural blonde?’ I ask her, rolling my eyes. She’s like a stray dog that won’t stop following you, despite your shooing.

‘Yes,’ she
answers confidently.

‘No, you’re not, Tiggy,’ I say exasperated
. What must it be like to be Tiggy Boodles? I dread to think actually. ‘I’ve known you all my life so I know you’re not. You can’t come to lunch.’

‘But I want to
make you and Glinda bridesmaids!’ she pouts. How on earth does she match her lipstick to her nail polish that perfectly? There must be better ways to spend your time.

At this point I really have to refrain from slapping her. I
, of course, knew she would have every evil intention of making me a bridesmaid, but Glinda? Glinda and Tiggy are no way friends, never will be. I know it’s a ruse – I know she just wants to come to lunch to annoy us. Can’t she annoy her own friends and stop encroaching on my life for once?

‘You have your appraisal,’ I remind her.

‘Shit,’ she mutters. ‘I do. Cheers, Angie.’

Bugger
, maybe she’d have been fired if she’d missed it. Stupid me.

‘W
hatever,’ I reply dismissively, hoping she’ll get the hint and leave. I could turn around and walk off, but she’d only sink her talon-claws in to stop me.