Marie, and she’d never written anything for me before, so I wanted to take my time with them.
I rounded the corner back to my desk with a coffee in my hand. I glanced at the desk Harry was using, checking if he’d arrived late. He hadn’t and I grinned as I remembered the non-apology apology latte I’d bought him on his first day. I caught the sound of Emily’s voice in the meeting room, and slowed down when I heard my name. She was talking about me.
“And now she’s going to Paris? It’s because she’s ugly and dresses like she’s five years old. Robert told me that Sandy didn’t want anyone pretty interviewing her, so he had limited options and was forced to put her on it because I was too attractive.”
What was I hearing? It sounded like she was talking about me but . . .
“She’s lording it over us. She’s off to Paris. Poor Harry, having to spend time with that thing.”
My heart was thumping through my chest. I knew they didn’t like me, but I’d never heard anything like this. It was so venomous and so unfair. I was frozen to the spot. My eyes began to water. I couldn’t go back to my desk without running into poisonous Emily so I turned and headed out of the door and toward the back stairwell before anyone could see me cry. As soon as I was through the fire exit, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I didn’t have a tissue so I pulled the sleeves of my gray turtleneck down over my hands and held them under my eyes to catch the tears. There was nothing I could do to stop them from falling and taking my mascara with them.
What had I ever done to Emily? She’d never took the time to get to know me. She’d decided I wasn’t good enough, or that I thought I was too good. I wasn’t sure which. Full body sobbing came next, I just gave into it and let it happen. No one could hear me, I was the only one that ever used the stairs. I stumbled down a few flights to get farther away from their poison. Is it true what they were saying? Did I get the Sandy Fox interview because I’m ugly? I was so sick of putting up with their sniping. I didn’t get it right all the time, and my lips got loose, but did I deserve her being so nasty? Just because I didn’t want to go out with them on a Friday night or waste half the day talking about the latest celebrity sighting didn’t mean I was evil or didn’t have feelings that could be hurt.
I dug into my pocket, retrieved my phone and dialled Ash’s number.
“Hey,” I said.
“What’s the matter?” Ash asked immediately. I couldn’t hide anything from her.
Instead of sympathy Ash started laughing when I told her what had happened.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s fucking hilarious. As if anyone could think you were ugly. She’s just jealous.”
“They’re always taking the piss out of what I wear.”
“Well that’s because for some reason you dress like a boarding-school virgin while you’re at work. But that’s okay. That doesn’t make you ugly, it makes you a conservative dresser. They’re being ridiculous.”
That started a fresh round of sobbing. I felt so sorry for myself and I was so sick of feeling like a leper. I just wanted to do a good job. I didn’t understand what I’d done to deserve Emily’s hatred. I was exhausted. Tired of trying so hard, working long hours, making everything as perfect as I could. It just didn’t seem worth it. The downstairs fire door crashed open and I froze. My tears were on hold.
“Haven, are you still there?” Ash asked.
“Shhhh. There’s someone here,” I whispered.
“Where are you?”
“In the back stairwell. No one comes here—not normally.”
“Who is it?”
I was stuck. I couldn’t go back into the office because I was sure I looked like a racoon that had just been run over. Footsteps began to clip the metal stairs. Shit.
I turned to face the wall with some vain hope that if I couldn’t see whoever was coming, they wouldn’t be able to see me. The footsteps got louder and