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Except it can’t be happening again… can it?
I click on the message and let out a gasp as I see the images come up on my screen. They’re all of me… and all were taken either last night or this morning. I can tell by the clothes I’m wearing. There’s one of me getting out of my car yesterday evening, outside my apartment. One of me taking my bag out of the trunk, and another of me entering my apartment block. A fourth one shows me at the grocery store last night, when I went to buy milk. The final one shows me getting into my car this morning, wearing exactly the same clothes I’ve got on now…
I thought this was all over, but evidently it’s not.
Is there no escape?
I can’t help it. I drop my phone on my desk and sob.
***
Hunter
Preston’s timing sucks.
I came into the office early this morning, desperate to see Livia, to talk to her, and find out whether there’s a hope for us.
I never got the chance, though, because even though I started the conversation, and got as far as telling her I’d had an enlightening weekend, Preston’s call has brought everything to an abrupt halt.
That means I wasn’t able to explain what I meant. I couldn’t tell her I’ve spent a lot of time over the last two days examining my feelings for her.
And that now I’d like to examine them with her.
Or I would, if there weren’t so many goddamn interruptions.
With great reluctance, I go into my office, and sit at my desk, having time to get comfortable before Livia buzzes the call through.
“Preston?”
“Good morning, Hunter.” He sounds pleased with himself, and I’m hoping that’s a good sign. We could use one.
“What can I do for you?”
“Nothing at the moment, but I wanted to let you know, I’ve got a meeting this morning with Jim Nichols at Ecstatic Sports.”
I’m impressed. I know that Ecstatic are one of Pemberton’s biggest clients, so I guess this means they’re looking to move. At least, I hope it does.
“You know who I’m talking about, don’t you?” Preston says, after a few seconds’ silence.
“Of course. They used to make running shoes.”
“That’s ancient history. They’ve been the leading suppliers of home fitness equipment for the last five years.”
I’m aware of that, but I don’t say so. I’m just relieved he’s got an appointment.
“Do you know Jim Nichols?” I ask.
“Not personally, but I met him at the golf club yesterday and we got talking.”
I knew there was a good reason for employing account execs. It means I don’t have to play golf.
“And he arranged the appointment there and then?”
“No, but I gave him my card, and he emailed me this morning. He seems keen to meet up.”
“Okay. Let me know what happens.”
I end the call, wondering if this might be the break we’ve been hoping for. It’s often the way that, if one company jumps ship, others follow, and maybe Jim Nichols might be the metaphorical Pied Piper in this scenario. I sit back, letting out a sigh, and try not to feel too optimistic. It’s way too soon for optimism, but it’s not too soon for coffee, and I’m just getting up when I hear what sounds like crying coming from outside… from Livia’s office.
