Skinny Dipping (6 page)

“We’ll keep it professional. You’ll be my client in the pool, and I’ll be your client out of the pool. Besides, I think I know quite a lot about you already, I know the contents of your cluttered handbag – which is so bizarre for someone so organised, so relentless, and so damn persistent. You get results – you even somehow got me to go to a corporate gala dinner, and now you’re here.”

She found herself laughing, stiffly. “You didn’t actually make it to a table at the gala, a zero success rate there.”

“No, I didn’t go inside, I’ll explain one day but I’m deeply sorry for not actually going.”

“Okay.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to do this. Think about it. Get back to me.”

“No. I’ve decided. No. No way.”

“Think about it,” he insisted. “As a start, you can just get in and we’ll take it from there.”

“I need to think about it.”

“I don’t want to force you. It’s your choice really.”

Oh God,
but was it really her choice? Or was it more of a job requirement considering they were in a recession, the whole of England was firing people, would he fire her now too, because she couldn’t swim? Didn’t want to learn?

“We’ll see,” she said, shuddering at the very thought of getting in. She was surprised she was even contemplating the idea. She’d better focus on getting slightly into shape if she was going to prance around him in a swimsuit. She’d have to go on a diet, find an emergency exercise programme which included at least one thousand leg raises. If she was going in the pool, it would be on her own terms.

“I’ll get Eve to call you, or I’ll call you and we can discuss this more later,” he said, very gently. “I’m not going to force you to do this, but I think it would be a good idea for our relationship.”

What did he mean by that? “You make it sound like we’re married,” she said and he laughed recognising the words he’d said to her earlier in the reception.

He pointed around the swimming pool, discussing the features of the pool. She didn’t care, finding she could barely concentrate on his words. All she could think about was getting into that water. Did he realise what he was expecting of her? He wanted her to spend the evening with him, half clothed, scared, and wet. She wouldn’t, couldn’t do it.

Chapter 4

Rushing from the Highbury Aquatic Center and her disastrous meeting with Matthew Silver, Sophie arrived at her workplace. Her desk was through the corridor with the red splattering motifs (Sophie thought they looked more like psychiatrist’s ink blots), past the kitchen and next to the ‘think tank’ of ideas; a whiteboard covered with coloured flash cards.

She collapsed in her desk chair, noticing Bradley Clark’s doorway was firmly closed. Hooray, her boss hadn’t noticed she was late. But his personal assistant Jessica Watson was in. “Sophie’s in,” Jessica sang out.

Sophie gave a tight lipped smile. Jessica’s desk sat outside Bradley’s doorway, with a view of the rest of the office, but it wasn’t really like Jessica to act like a team sentinel. Especially not with her. The two of them were relatively close – they even went out for burgers on a Friday. Jessica was a capable woman, not only was she Bradley Clark’s personal assistant, but had stepped up as the group secretary for no extra pay, being in the midst of a recession and all. Jessica was in her early thirties, and recently started studying fulltime at London Metropolitan University. Although she was now a mature aged student, she was sharp as a knife with intelligent, warm, brown eyes.

Bradley’s door burst open. Jessica almost catapulted from her chair, a stack of papers in her arms and the rest of the office snapped into life with dramatic energy like actors performing on stage. Everyone was all too aware of Bradley, and his presence.

Staff shouted across the office with great intensity. A girl burst into tears about something. Sophie felt like everyone was standing next to an active volcano, eruptions breaking throughout the office.

Bradley’s gaze scanned the office floor. His scowl was somehow incredibly attractive. She’d seen him in action. Bradley wasn’t the most reasonable man. He was moody. He had a temper much like a grizzly bear. His gaze settled on her, eyes locking, broody, and angry.

“Hi, Bradley,” she said, giving a slight wave.

Those cold, angry eyes told her he was about to snap about something. “Morning, Sophie.” Looming over Jessica and her mountain of papers, he barked an order, then one to the office. “Progress meeting. Every manager to the boardroom, in five.” Everything in the office stopped, and the managers left their stations, stopping what they were doing. Bradley sauntered down the corridor.

Sophie shot off like an arrow, following Bradley, her heart beating rapidly. “Excuse me Bradley,” she called out.

Bradley tossed a look over his shoulder, then stopped in the corridor waiting for Sophie to catch up.

“How are you? How is your head? Did you enjoy the gala?”

“Oh yes, very much so. I took some aspirin, so I’m fine.”

“Ah, yes, I had to do the same. I’m sorry I didn’t get to speak to you much. I know you can hold your own. I saw you in deep conversation with Tom Johnson from Barney’s Chocolates. How did you go with him?”

“Great, but I wanted to talk to you about the Silver account.”

“Wait for the meeting.”

“It’s important.”

“It can wait five seconds.” His voice was scathing as he swept into the boardroom. His smile scanned the room, settling on each person’s face as they entered. His acknowledgement worked like a Mexican wave where each person lit up under his gaze, leaning forward in their seat just in case his eyes would come back around to touch them again.

Sophie slid into a seat and next came Desmond, from the Art Department. Sophie was surprised he’d made it to the last-minute meeting. Desmond couldn’t actually be called reliable, though when he worked, he was extremely good at what he did. Sophie often found herself micromanaging him to ensure he stuck to budgets, or actually turned up. He was a little overweight, wore crisp suits, perfectly matched, and always managed to look suave.

“I’ve got the artwork for you to look at when you get a chance.” Desmond leaned over grinning at Sophie, probably trying to look down her top.

“You’re a star, Desmond. What would I do without you?” The trick to Desmond was to bolster his artistic ego. His face flushed with pride and he settled himself back in his seat. “Casting’s next week.” Desmond was a ladies’ man, tried to have it on with every girl in the office, as well as girls he auditioned.

“Yeah, I’ll find the right model..., um, I mean, actress.” Desmond was practically licking his lips, salivating at the thought of another string of girls he would probably try to sleep with.

The real chore would be when Sophie would be stuck finding the right model while Desmond would get all their phone numbers. She’d be left with the grunt work.

“Morning.” Next was Flora, a copywriter, very clever and quick-witted. She was young with peachy skin, been with the agency for only a few months. Desmond leaned over toward her.

“Morning Flora, you smell nice today.”

Sophie refrained from rolling her eyes at the ceiling, and noticed Harry race into the boardroom, diving into a chair – next to Flora, of course. His crush on Flora couldn’t be missed. Everyone knew except for Flora. Harry was the manager of the Digital Department and everything to do with technology. He walked round the corridors hugging walls like a shadow.

“Morning.” Bradley’s voice resonated around the boardroom as he rapped the long wooden table as if in excitement.

“Where’s everyone else?” Sophie asked brightly, looking around at the empty seats.

“We’re a small firm, Sophie,” Bradley continued.

“But dynamic,” she shot Bradley a smile.

“Where’s Jessica?” Bradley barked looking at the empty seat next to him.

A low snigger came from the doorway. “I think her gossiping on the phone sounds much more exiting then the management meeting.”

The room was oddly silent, as Kelly Moore entered the room. It was true though. Jessica’s constant chatter on the phone hadn’t gone unnoticed. Sophie needed to warn Jessica, as it was becoming a problem. A smug smile spread across Kelly’s face, then her eyes settled on Sophie and she winked.

“Let’s start,” Bradley said.

“Where is everyone else?” Flora looked around the room as well.

Bradley adjusted his tie, then rubbed his hands together. “As you all know,
Clarks
is a small firm. Although we have a presence in New York and London, we’re really a boutique firm with all hands on deck. There have been a few changes recently, and the purpose of this meeting is to remind you all that we’re in a recession.”

Sophie nodded, feeling suddenly wary of where this conversation was going.

Bradley continued. “Some of you have probably heard about Joey Symonds, Katie Stevens, and Julia Brown all being made redundant late last night before the gala awards. I took them all to The Dorchester. We celebrated their successes and their time with the firm.”

“The Dorchester is the place Bradley takes people to celebrate or commiserate,” Desmond said under his breath. “If he ever asks you to lunch, be very wary.”

Sophie felt herself pale. That’s why everyone was so dynamic this morning. She hadn’t heard because she was too busy with her personal life. “A recession doesn’t stop at a few redundancies.” Bradley paced the front of the boardroom, and a silence filtered around the boardroom. “We’ve come onto hard times. This isn’t meant to scare you, but as managers, I need to work with each and every one of you on business development. We need to win new work. I’ll be looking at all the teams, trimming the fat.”

Sophie scribbled on her notepad, shivering at the words, ‘trimming the fat.’ Many companies in London were “restructuring” due to the financial crisis which had hit the capital, the country, and the world almost overnight.

“You’ve probably already heard rumours from other advertising agencies. Floors of staff are being given redundancy packages. A solid business development strategy will help us keep ahead of the pack, but we need to start now.”

Silence engulfed the room as the team tapped their pens on their desks.

The door burst open and Jessica stood there. “What did I miss?” She ran to the empty seat next to Bradley.

“Why were you late? Chatting on the phone?” Bradley asked.

Jessica’s face flushed an almost scarlet colour. “I’ve been taking client calls, thank you very much.” Jessica pushed her shoulders back.

“Sure, you weren’t talking on the phone? I’m surprised clients got through.”

“For your information Matthew Silver called and left a message for Sophie, and I spoke to him for quite some time. Relationship building like you instructed me to do.”

Sophie sat straighter in her seat. “Tell me later.” She waved her hand dismissively.

“It’s about a spot coming up for a swimming lesson,” Jessica continued. “If you want it, you’re to confirm with Eve or of course Matthew.”

“Swimming lesson?” Kelly’s eyes narrowed. “You have time to take swimming lessons. Bradley, aren’t you trimming the fat?” She looked innocent as she spoke.

Sophie felt her cheeks become hot. “The Silver Account, as everyone knows, has potential. We only have a sliver of the company – the swimming pool chain, the smallest part of the group,” she said.

“Why don’t we start with you Sophie, tell us the business development work you have been doing the past two weeks.”

Sophie twitched, fear sinking in, urging a terrified feeling away. She smiled and gave her report on the Advertising Gala, where Matthew Silver hadn’t shown up.

“How are you going to get part of the hotel chain? Is that what the swimming lessons are all about, living and breathing your work?”

She wanted desperately to impress him, but she shook her head. “No. No. I was traumatised by a swimming incident as a child and it happened to come up in my conversation with Matthew. Apparently he has loads of experience with all types of swimmers – or non-swimmers in my case.”

“Swimming lessons look like the ideal way to get to know Matthew Silver, and grow new business.”

“You don’t mean I should actually take the swimming lessons?”

“Of course.” Bradley gave Sophie a puzzled look.

Sophie felt her hands sweating. She should try to explain, try to help him understand. She bit her lip, practically chewed it off. “I almost
drowned
. I’m scared of swimming. I can’t just get in. Not even for a lesson. There are emotional issues to deal with.”

“Spare me the excuses. Just go for it, impress me.” Bradley’s eyes glinted. “‘
Swimming is for Living’
– your motto remember?”

She desperately wanted to impress him. “Bradley, I’ve been traumatised,” she blurted, unable to help herself. “You do understand? I died for three minutes. I was actually brought back to life. I have a phobia of swimming.” Sophie felt her cheeks burning with humiliation. She loved this job, would do anything. Almost anything. But swim.

“He has dealt with other people who have had traumas before hasn’t he?” Hysteria jumped face first onto Sophie’s lap. What was happening here? Matthew Silver had given her the option, but Bradley was practically insisting she learn how to swim.

Sophie squirmed. “Yes, he has, but most people who learn how to swim. Well, they’re not…” She swallowed, considering her phraseology. Traumatised. Scared. Unable to possibly consider ever getting in, she felt she was sweating. “Not as busy as me,” she tried.

He nodded. “Right. Yes, you’re right. By getting in the pool, you won’t be able to work back as late. However, I think you might be onto something here. The swimming lessons are a real way to really get in bed, so to speak with the client. Move the relationship to the next level. We’ll share the workload Sophie. Are you okay?”

She felt physically sick. “Yup,” she said in a small voice, although her stomach was churning so hard she desperately wanted to run to the loo and throw up.

“Of course if you don’t want to do it, well does anyone else want a go? Get in bed with the client, so to speak, or in the pool.”