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It’s not that I’m lying, exactly. But if you tell yourself something often enough, you start to believe it.
Two weeks before the party
Chapter 23
Caz
AJ is already waiting for me at the table when I get to the Mexican cantina, a dubious-looking cocktail fringed with umbrellas and glacé cherries on the table in front of him. When AJ officially came out at a Christmas party four years ago, a grand total of zero people were surprised.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ I say, sliding into the booth opposite him. ‘Got caught in a meeting with Nolan. What on earth are you drinking?’
‘Sex in the Woods. It’s like Sex on the—’
‘Never mind. I don’t want to know.’ I turn to the waitress. ‘I’ll have what he’snothaving. Vodka martini, straight up, two olives.’
‘You’re so sweet to do this,’ AJ says, nervously twirling his cocktail umbrella. ‘Mum’s been dying to meet you. I promise she won’t stay long. She’s got to get a train back to Crawley after lunch.’
The waitress returns with my drink. I pull the olives from their plastic stick, and squeeze them into my martini. ‘It’s fine. I’m looking forward to it.’
I’m not usually the kind of person people want to take home, but I suspect AJ doesn’t have many friends he feels comfortable introducing to his mother. To be honest, I don’t think he has many friends at all. Whitefish is his life. He’s always the first one into the office, and the last to leave, which may be one of the reasons his relationships don’t last. He started in the mailroom here straight out of school, and somehow managed to earn a place on the ad team through sheer commitment and determination. His temporary secondment as my assistant is his big chance to shine. If he does a good job, it’ll be made permanent.
I recognise Mrs James the moment she comes into the restaurant. She looks exactly like AJ, right down to the pink nail polish her son is also wearing. ‘You must be Caz!’ she exclaims, throwing her arms around me as I half-rise awkwardly. ‘AJ talks about you all the time! You didn’t tell me she was so pretty,’ she adds, throwing her son a mischievous look. ‘Now I understand all the late hours.’
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs James—’
‘Please, call me Annie. Everybody does.’
She scoots into the booth next to AJ. ‘So, is my boy working hard?’ she asks. ‘Staying on top of things?’
‘I couldn’t manage without him,’ I say honestly.
She squeezes his arm. ‘A girl could do a lot worse. He’s a wonderful cook,’ she adds. ‘Taught himself. Had to, really, I have trouble boiling an egg.’
For a moment I wonder if the poor woman is under the impression I’m auditioning for the role of herdaughter-in-law, but then she winks at me, and I realise she’s teasing.
I listen as she and AJ banter in the familiar, comfortable way I’ve seen in other families, but never in my own. Even before my mother’s accident, we never had that kind of relationship. When she wasn’t drunk, she was curled up on the sofa in her nightdress, crying. I was always too ashamed of her to bring anyone but Angie home, and so I never accepted anyone’s invitation to their house because I couldn’t return it. Angie’s own mother emigrated to Spain with her second husband when she was a kid, leaving Angie behind with her dad, so we never went to her place, either. It’s one of the things I’ve always envied about Louise: her relationship with her mother.
AJ’s mother extorts a promise from me to visit her in Crawley and leaves to get her train just as my phone buzzes with an incoming text from Patrick:Get back to the office ASAP.
‘Shit,’ I say. ‘Patrick needs me back at the office. Can you get the bill and meet me there, AJ? I’ll settle up with you later.’
The restaurant is only five minutes’ walk from the office. I start back, my stomach churning. I have a bad feeling about this. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not like Patrick to be so terse. I hope something hasn’t gone south with Univest. Louise is just waiting for the opportunity to fuck me over. Maybe I shouldn’t have riled Andy up about the child support payments, but that woman’s been having it all her own way for far too long. It was just too much, seeing her sitting at a desksix feet away from me. Ever since Celia invited me to her anniversary party, Louise has been out for blood. No matter what I do, she just keeps coming. I need to find a way to put an end to this, once and for all.
The second I get out of the lift, I see Louise talking to Franco, one of my clients, on the far side of the office. She glances up and catches my eye, and then Franco himself turns and sees me, his expression grim. Moments later, Patrick comes out of his office and signals to me to join them in the conference room. He doesn’t look happy.
‘What the fuck is going on?’ I mutter, to the room at large. No one meets my eye. Something bad is going down, I can smell it.
No one even acknowledges me when I enter the conference room. I sit down as far from Louise as possible in the confines of the space, my stomach fizzing with anxiety. I’ve no idea what’s coming, but it’s not going to be good.
The Creative Director, Nolan Casey, and Finn Redford, the Art Director, join us, looking wary. Clearly neither of them have a clue what’s going on either. I spot AJ crossing the office to his desk, and wave for him to come and join us, but Patrick shuts the conference room door in his face.
Patrick’s gaze is cool as it rests on me. He flips open the laptop on the glass conference table, and spins it towards me without a word.
I gape at the screen in disbelief. ‘What the hell?’
‘You do realise what this means?’ Franco demandsabruptly. A small muscle works at the side of his jaw. ‘The backlash has already started on Twitter. We’ve called in a crisis management company, but this is going to cost us a fortune. It’ll take years to rebuild our brand.’
‘I don’t understand,’ I exclaim. ‘This was never supposed to—’
