Free Vengeful Love by Laura Carter

neither of us discussing what happened, neither of us broaching the subject of a hospice. At least one of us knowing how much my father would hate to be living like this.

Chapter Seven
    The office is dark and eerily quiet when I arrive, the sound of each movement magnified by the empty space. On Friday evening I received notification that I was granted access to a VDR—virtual data room—containing information and documents about Sea People International Inc. Now my emails tell me that hundreds of documents have been deposited in the VDR for me to review. For once, I’m grateful for the laborious task of sifting through a mountain of due diligence. Eclectic Technologies instructed me only to look at the absolute must-read documents but given the timeframe to complete this deal, that will still mean working flat out to prepare for a meeting with Gregory, Williams and Lawrence by midweek. I won’t have time to torture myself with thoughts of hospices or the reality of how sick my father is.
    My ability to concentrate is almost non-existent and I try in vain to plough through the mass of documents. Throwing away the possibility of sleeping pills now seems like an idiotic move.
    I rest my head on my hand and wince when I touch the cut on my temple, bringing the memories of just how stupid and selfish I was flooding back. By the time Margaret makes it into the office I’ve barely made a dent in the goal I set myself for this morning.
    “Scarlett! Hi!”
    “Hi Margaret, have you had a nice weekend?” I ask, unable to muster anything resembling chirpy in my voice.
    “Yes, thank you. If you don’t mind me asking, is everything okay? You just...just don’t really look yourself.” It’s probably safe to assume she’s referring to my puffy eyes, resting on top of two big, black rings of tiredness and decorated with a deep red cut.
    “Just a big weekend.”
    “Can I get you anything? Latte?”
    “That would be great, thank you.”
    Not even caffeine can improve the look of my tired eyes but it does at least give me enough of a kick to read the next few documents at an improved pace. The office starts to fill with stories of the weekend.
    “Guess what?” Amanda yells as she bursts through my door, making me jump in my seat. “Gosh, you don’t look well. Are you okay?” she asks, lowering her decibel level to just above normal.
    “Just tired.”
    “Sooooo?”
    “I can’t guess,” I mutter. “Please tell me.”
    “Fine. Guess who has a date on Wednesday?”
    I gasp. “You?”
    “Meeee. Guess who with?”
    “I have no idea. Who?”
    “Someone’s in a grouch today,” she says in disgust. “Only with Edward!”
    “Edward. Edward who?”
    “Edward Williams,” she sings again.
    “Williams! What?” I realise too late to prevent myself that I’m snarling at her and up out of my seat. “You can’t, Amanda. I told you, he’s a client. For God’s sake, why can’t you ever listen to anything I say?”
    I’m annoyed and tired but most of all, surprising even to me, I’m jealous. I’m jealous that Amanda can get any man she likes just as easy as she can say hello. It doesn’t matter how wealthy or attractive or smart they are, she can have them.
    “You can’t do this, Amanda, please. What if it goes wrong?”
    “It won’t,” she snaps. “You could just try being happy for me instead of miserable and overly sensible. Jesus, Scarlett, you’re such a goody-goody. What the hell’s gotten into you today?”
    I sit back into my chair with a sigh. “Sorry, I’m just busy and this isn’t really a conversation for the office.”
    “Fine. Well you would’ve known before now if you hadn’t ignored my calls and texts all weekend,” she huffs like a petulant child and sits onto my windowsill, taking the weight off her Prada heels.
    “Sorry, I hadn’t realised. I just, I didn’t look at my phone and...” Before I can stop them, tears are falling to my desk. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my