Skinny Dipping (39 page)

What could she say since fleeing from his apartment? He was still in love with someone else. She couldn’t possibly ever compete with the ghost of someone else. A girl he obviously loved. She felt sorry for him, she really did. But Sophie also needed to protect herself, her heart, because she was the only one who was going to get hurt. He’d thought she was Rebecca. He was never going to fall in love with her, never see her for who she was. She was simply, Sophie, and he would be imagining someone else.

Now, how did she communicate professionally? Be polite? Take his calls? Pretend nothing happened. Pretend the barrier between consultant and client always existed. Pretend the wall of clothing had always been present. No breach of the silk panties. No exhibitionism. No stripping. And certainly no ravishing with lips. No promiscuous Sophie. It must all be his… wet dream. Except it wasn’t. The memory of kissing, wanting, and panting kept revolving in her head. Images of them were etched deeply in her mind. God, she could have so easily fallen in love with him. Thank God she stopped before the relationship got too complicated.

Then there were the series of text messages which she needed to respond to. Her mobile phone kept beeping to signify a new message. With each beep her heart would lurch and leap. Practically fly out of her chest. And panic would consume her. What could he possibly want from her now? She wasn’t going to give him… sex. Not when he loved someone else. He certainly wasn’t ready for a relationship. She could only imagine his texts, filled with words in his taunting, joking manner. Each text in capital letters saying things like:

PRUDE.

I TOLD YOU SO.

TEASE.

I DARED YOU.

IT WAS A PHYSICAL CHALLENGE.

And she supposed she was. A prude. A tease. Not at all sexy. She wasn’t one of those girls who could have sex and simply forget. She thought sex meant something. She was a relationship type of girl. What was wrong with that?

Without looking at any of his text messages Sophie turned her phone off. A temporary solution. Not a solution that would last forever.

And what should she do about the emails? He’d sent five. Perhaps she should consider opening them? Although she was trying to let the mortification settle. Were the emails incriminating in content? What if the man from the Information Technology department was able to read them? What if they were almost pornographic in language? No. They couldn’t be. Matthew wasn’t like that.

Now all Matthew’s emails would need her personal screening. She couldn’t simply forward his emails, unopened and unchecked, and straight to Jessica to deal with. Sophie was now forced to deal with Matthew. To open his emails. It was her professional obligation, because there was no possible way to explain to Jessica that she’d had a minor indiscretion with her most major client?

One thing was for certain. She couldn’t professionally ignore him – forever. Maybe she could leave the emails for a few days, until the vivid thoughts settled down. But someone would have to finish off the work left on the Silver Account. Someone that wasn’t Sophie. Someone else.

There was still one full day scheduled for the Brighton filming to finish the dreaded ‘
Skinny Dipping’
commercial. To think she was a prude. God, how could she even bear to watch the making of the
‘Skinny Dipping’
commercial or even look at any of the material from the campaign, when all she could think of was Matthew. The owner of the Silver Swimming Centre certainly wasn’t afraid to live up to his promises – she now knew – first hand. And she obviously wasn’t afraid to stand behind her campaigns. First with the
‘Swimming is for Living’
campaign and now with the
‘Skinny Dipping’
concept. If anyone found out, she’d become a professional joke.

She looked at Jessica. Reliable, keen, Jessica. She would help. Jessica certainly had the capability to be the point of contact for Matthew. Sophie could push the client relationship to the side – to help Jessica grow in the career she very much wanted. That’s what she would do. That’s how she’d deal with Matthew for the moment.

“It would be excellent experience in project management. You’ll get one day of running the whole show when you’re in Brighton.”

“Are you sure, Sophie?” Jessica said, sceptically. “I mean, you’ve done the rest of the work. We’re almost finished. Why now?”

“Why now? The real question is why
not
now? You’ve met the client already. You know the team because you were at the filming at the
Highbury Aquatic Centre
. That went very well, wouldn’t you say? You even know what we’re trying to achieve for the entire campaign. You’ve never been in a better position to gain some real practical experience in project management and client relations.”

“Only if you’re sure,” Jessica said. “I’ll try my best to keep the client happy.”

“Bradley keeps insisting that my time is better spent developing new business, and this project is almost complete. So I can’t possibly go to Brighton and do everything I need to do to bring in new work. Besides, I’ve got that meeting with Bradley. That one you set up with the weird subject…Chanel?” Sophie asked, a little perplexed as she looked at her electronic calendar.

Jessica’s face flushed quite scarlet. “
Chanel
. The perfume. Whoops you weren’t supposed to see that. That was a reminder for me. I’ve been so busy doing all this extra work, as well as my tasks as group secretary and being Bradley’s personal assistant. It’s quite a lot to take on.”

Sophie eyed Jessica curiously. “You’ve been doing really well by stepping up to all these projects.” Jessica nodded. Her eyes rounded. “So what do you know about Chanel?” Sophie demanded.

Jessica leaned over, very close to Sophie, so no one else in the office could hear. “I don’t want to lose my job, but he asked me to buy you a perfume.
Chanel Number 5.
It’s got to mean something. Maybe he’s really very sorry for taking you off the Barney’s account? Everyone knows how upset you were. Especially after all the work you’d done and how good your campaign was to start with. Then Kelly went and botched it all up anyway. I’m guessing you heard about her absolutely disastrous pitch. And your complete change in attitude. He’s probably scared of losing you. So the Dorchester booking and a bottle of Chanel. I guess he’s trying to patch things up with his favourite girl…”

Sophie examined Jessica’s earnest face. Yes, maybe that was it. Bradley was feeling uncomfortable about taking her off the pitch she’d worked so hard on. Then they’d lost the client completely. Tom Johnson hadn’t like Kelly’s idea at all. He’d wanted what he’d discussed with Sophie, and was furious at the firm for taking Sophie off the account.

“Okay, maybe that’s what it’s all about. But it is odd.” Sophie sighed. “Jess, let’s just focus on Brighton. You’re the person who’s got to be one-hundred percent in control. You’ve got to keep Desmond in line. Everyone on schedule. You’re the boss when you’re out there.”

“Yes,” Jessica said brightly.

“What will you do if someone doesn’t turn up?”

“Ask you?” Jessica replied.

“But I’m not going to be there,” Sophie reminded her gently.

Jessica regrouped. “Use my initiative. Think of a solution. Check it with the client, if deemed necessary.”

“Good. You can handle it, and my expertise is better used somewhere else rather than micromanaging. I trust you, I trust Carol to perform and I trust Desmond to make an excellent bloody commercial. You’re all like the dream team for a day of shooting.”

Jessica laughed. “Thanks, Soph, that’s quite a compliment coming from you. I’m part of the ‘dream team’. I love it.”

“And you’ve got all the plans worked out for the wrap party. Everyone’s been invited then?”

“Yes, I told you I had. The boat’s booked. I double- and triple-checked. By the way, thanks. Thanks Soph for this chance, I’m just the group secretary and a personal assistant. This experience means so much to me.”

“I’ll put in a recommendation if you ever need it. You’ve almost finished university, and
Clarks
shouldn’t lose you to another firm. You’re much more valuable than a group secretary.”

***

The next day while Jessica led the Brighton filming to complete the
‘Skinny Dipping’
commercial, Sophie jumped into a taxi to The Dorchester. The conversation with Jessica kept revolving in her head. Something didn’t quite make sense. Bradley wasn’t the type of boss who bought his staff their favourite perfume.

Think. Sophie think.

She jumped out of the taxi. There was something there. Something in the back of her mind. Something that unsettled her. But what? The doorman practically genuflected as she entered the hotel. The scent of fresh flowers floated around the room, a sickly sweet sent which made her feel even more uneasy.
Something is wrong.

The receptionist glided over to her, recognising the awe on her face, as she looked at the patterned carpet, the grand sweeping staircase, and the glamorous women wearing jaw-dropping jewellery. She was escorted to the main restaurant and introduced to the maitre d’.

“We have a reservation; Bradley Clark, has he arrived yet?”

“Yes, there’s a table for two.”
A table for two.
When was the last time Bradley had asked her to lunch? Or asked any of his staff to lunch…

“Yes, that’s right.” Taking a large breath, trying to settle her apprehension Sophie followed the maitre d’.

She was suddenly very nervous. The type of gripping nervous, forming a tightness in her chest, making her legs feel like they wouldn’t respond. Why did Bradley want to see her for lunch? Was it really because he thought she did amazing work? Was it really to make amends with her because he’d thrown her off the Barney’s pitch? Would Bradley really ever appreciate her efforts? Her long hours? The way she loved her job? No. He probably wouldn’t.

Sophie was led to a table by an arched window with a spectacular view overlooking the garden. Bradley looked up as she arrived and gave her a killer smile. “Sophie, glad you came. I was getting worried.”

A different waiter, wearing black and white, appeared almost like an apparition. He pulled a seat out from the table, and helped her sit down. Then just as appeared, he disappeared somewhere into the folds of the restaurant, as if by magic.

Sophie settled herself into her seat, and then noticed something sitting on the empty plate in front of her. A bag of Chanel – just like Jessica had mentioned. “I wouldn’t miss coming to lunch at The Dorchester.” She noticed Bradley eyeing her carefully, and he nodded that she should open the bag. A look of amusement flashed across his face as she opened the package up in haste. “You know this is my favourite perfume,” she said, feigning surprise.

“Well I’ve known you for years – over three years – working at
Clarks
, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s right,” she said, taking the package at of the bottle. Sniffing. Playing for time. Thinking.
Why would Bradley buy her perfume?
“Thanks so much for this. I’m not sure why you bought it for me?” she asked, directly.

He leaned back in his chair and grinned. “You’ve worked so hard you see. Today the ad campaign for the Silver Account is pretty much completed.” Bradley smiled, his slow, greasy smile.

“Yes,” Sophie started, not quite trusting Bradley’s explanation. “Desmond’s getting the last lot of footage and of course then there’s the editing on the commercial. We’ve hit a home run, I think. We’ve billed the client a hell of a lot, but we’ve done such quality work.”

“You heard that we didn’t get the Barney’s account. That fell through. It’s really hurt our projections.
Clarks
revenue is in a dire situation.”

Sophie suddenly felt a stab of discomfort. Why was it her problem that they didn’t have the Barney’s account? “Such a shame, Bradley. Such a shame.” She’d been taken off the account some time ago now. If they were in such a dire situation, then why were they both sitting at The Dorchester?

“Tell me how the swimming lessons are going with Matthew Silver; I saw him in the foyer the other day. He seems to have taken a real liking to you.”

“The lessons are brilliant. Matthew Silver was my teacher, you know. He never pushed me. I’ve had this phobia of swimming since I was a kid. So he started by tackling the phobia first and simply helped me get into the water. Then we moved on to basic water survival skills. I can swim now; I’m not an Olympic swimmer, but I can swim.”

“Excellent,” Bradley nodded. Again he gave her an almost shark grin, bearing his pearly white teeth that made Sophie’s stomach turn slightly. “Good work, Soph, good work. Wrap party soon then? Where did Jessica arrange it?”

“On a boat. You are coming aren’t you? I was sure you were invited, being our boss and everything,” Sophie questioned.

“Yes, I’m coming. Shall we have some champagne?” A glass of champagne would be about thirty quid at The Dorchester. Looking at the plate, the silver cutlery, this meal was going to be very expensive.

“Which client does this one get expensed to?” Sophie joked. Bradley’s face suddenly went very white. Very pale.

“Well… we’ve spoken a little about the Sliver Account.”

“No chance.” Sophie eyed Bradley carefully. “This is not being billed to my account. You invited me and the subject was clearly Chanel. But I’m guessing we don’t have a prospect on that one,” she teased trying to lighten up the mood.

“I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“What do you mean?” Sophie asked, suddenly feeling a stab of worry.

“Bradley!” A voice echoed through the restaurant, high-pitched and familiar. Sophie turned toward the sound, her stomach dropping as she saw a figure striding to the table, a waiter trailing behind.

“Kelly?” Bradley said. His eyes were wide with astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

“What are
you
doing here more like it? With
Sophie
?” Kelly’s eyes narrowed, her expression dark. “You always say we should work as a team,” she said to Sophie. “Then look what you do. You exclude people.”