Page 85 of Little Miss Fortune

There is a wider marketing team, but because of Steven’s dragon-like way of keeping his staff close to himself, I have only spoken to them briefly. They work with different clients.

‘Yeah, which is much more fun than calculating the costs per acquisition or the click-through rates that Regan’s team is doing. Look at Niko,’ she whispers and points at the heavily bearded man with grey streaks running through his beard. The light is dim behind his eyes. ‘You and he are the same age, Fuko.’

‘Oof.’ Toby shivers.

‘Plus, what I will need you to do will teach you the same skills you will need to complete your internship. Win-win.’

Can’t argue with that. But there was something else in her voice. Something that Toby picked up on too, because he bit down on his lip and squinted. A quick glance at me suggests that he will tell me his thoughts later.

But he doesn’t need to. I figure it out by myself within an hour—Fawzia can’t stand Maahni.

She needs me as a buffer.

There is nothing particularly wrong with Maahni. She is great at what she does; otherwise, she wouldn’t have got this job. But she talks a lot.

‘Have you seen the new tabi shoe?’

‘Uh... Tabi? Like the Japanese socks?’

‘No, the shoes, silly, look.’ She hands me the phone with indeed Japanese tabi socks in a shoe form.

‘They are nice,’ I say but do think that they look a bit like hooves.

‘They would look so good on you, especially in this deep brown colour. If you get them, we can match! Fawzia can’t wear them.’

‘Why?’

‘She said heels are haram.’

Fawzia wears heels often. I think, if anything, lying might be haram.

‘No, but look, this colour would look amazing on you! You are such an autumn.’

‘Autumn?’

‘Your colours, silly. Browns, mustards, olives. All of them would look amazing with your pale, Victorian complexion.’

‘All the condiments, got it,’ I say, ignoring that she just called me ghostly.

‘I have black hair, too, but the warm undertone in my medium-bronze skin makes me a spring. So bright spring colours, like fuchsia or butter yellow.’

I try to go back to copywriting a press release for Fawzia’s client, but a message pops out from Toby. We now sit in different sections; I can see the top part of his face.

Toby Lewis: How is Maahni?

Fuko Brewer: She really likes fashion. Told me I’m an autumn.

A hand flashes in front of me. ‘What’s your rising?’ Maahni asks, leaning really low to the table, her legs are wrapped around the foot of the ergonomic office chair. She reminds me of those undiagnosed children with ADHD that can’t sit at their desks. Wait, was I that child?

‘Rising?’ I think for a second. ‘Like... pressure?’

‘No, silly, your rising sign.’

I don’t have a clue, but I know a person who does.

Fuko: Leon, what’s my rising?

Leon: Cancer sun, Virgo moon, Cancer rising xx