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“Of course you do,” I tell him, giving a little wave goodbye. Oliver always seems to have work to do.
As Oliver hangs up and the screen goes black, I let out a big breath. I may not be getting any closer to marking number four off my list—getting over Oliver, that is—but I am determined to make at least some of my New Year’s resolutions a reality, and this market stall is bringing me one step closer to numbers one and two. Opening my own café and quitting my job are tangible things for me now. And as an email from Oliver comes through confirming all the logistical details, I get to work on sorting out my favourite recipes. This is going to be great.
CHAPTER 8
Lilly
Monday morning has me crashing back down to earth. After an eventful weekend filled with lovely moments with Oliver and solid plans to make my Love, Lilly café a one-day-soon reality, to be sitting here answering mundane phone calls and avoiding leering glances is so depressing.
“Lilly, have you sent through that contract to Mrs Peterson?” my boss, aka public enemy number one, asks me not for the first time this morning. He stops at my desk and stares at my chest.
“Yes, Mr Hall. I sent it through this morning, like you asked me to.” In my mind, I call him my special nickname for him, Toad Face (like Toad Hall from The Wind and the Willows), and it gives me a secret thrill each time. And he also looks like a toad, so my pun works on so many levels.
“Great, good,” he says, still staring at my body. I glance down at the unflattering shirt that I am wearing and wonder what he could be so fascinated by. I go out of my way to look as frumpy as possible at work, and it just doesn’t seem to make any of them keep their eyes, or their hands, to themselves.
“So, Lilly, got yourself a boyfriend yet?” he asks. So inappropriate.
“That is not something I want to talk about at work, Mr Hall. As you know, I am very focused on my career when I am here,” I say not for the first time.
“Good, good. You should be focused on the work you are doing here,” he says. The man is so oblivious to the disgust I am aiming his way. “We love having you here to decorate the place.”
Oh, gross. Could this guy get any more sexist? I bite my tongue to avoid saying something I may regret later and smile at him through gritted teeth.
“Your twelve o’clock appointment should be here soon. Don’t you need to get prepared?” I ask, trying to get rid of him.
“Of course, yes. Good to chat to you as always, Lilly,” he says with one last glance at my breasts as he strolls away, without an awareness of the daggers I am shooting at his back.
“Ribbit,” I croak at him, under my breath.
I pull up the girls’ group chat and send a message: I hate it here. Must quit.
Madi doesn’t reply because she has a job as a sales rep that keeps her busy during the day.
Sammi sends a meme from The Office, with Pam saying “yup.” (Sammi loves a good GIF or emoji and does not like to text in full sentences.)
Amy: Do it! You can find another job. One where you aren’t sexually harassed daily.
Sammi sends a thumbs-up emoji.
Lilly: I just need to last a little while longer until I can get my business going. Sunday’s market will be a good start.
Amy: I know. I just hate that you are stuck there.
Sammi: Me too :(
Lilly: Me too :(
Amy: Shall we all meet for lunch tomorrow?
Sammi sends another thumbs-up emoji.
Lilly: Yes! Can’t wait!
Amy: Got to go. Hot shot doc is demanding my presence by his side. Love you.
Sammi says goodbye via a waving emoji.
I smile at the thought of Amy going at it with Dr McHottie and, with a sigh, get back to the mountain of paperwork in front of me.
