AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A loud beep snaps me from my reverie.
I glance up in time to see a car skim through a puddle, and I narrowly miss being soaked. Startled, I step back from the curb and huddle in the doorway to my office, hugging my arms for warmth. Absently, I pat down my pockets in search of my treasured Marlboro Lights; I’m absolutely dying for a cigarette. With shaky fingers, I light one and take a few shallow puffs, closing my eyes as the nicotine whips through my system. My enjoyment doesn’t last for very long; by the fourth puff, a voice inside is telling me that smoking’s gonna give me lung cancer.
Great.
It was my New Year’s resolution to quit, but here I am eleven months on, still battling a ten-a-day addiction. No matter what I do, I just can’t seem to kick the habit. I’ve tried everything: chewing gum, Nicorette patches, but they’ve all come to a big fat nothing.
“Excuse me,” says a voice from behind me. I whirl around to see a young man in a dirty tracksuit. “Sorry to bother you, but do you have a spare cigarette?”
“Of course.” I offer him one. Then on a sudden impulse, I decide to give him the whole packet. “Here. You might as well have the rest.”
“Really?” The man looks astonished. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. I’m trying to quit, so you’ll be doing me a favour.”
His eyes light up like a kid at Christmas. “Well, if you’re sure … thanks! I really appreciate it.”
When he’s gone, I toss my lighter in the bin as a final act of defiance.Okay. That’s the last cigarette I’ll ever smoke. As of today, I’m officially nicotine-free.
Feeling like Superman, I step into the brightly lit reception of Midas Media. Everything about the place screams success: exotic potted plants, marbled floors, mirrored walls, and a five-grandchaise lounge.
Mark, the security guard, is sitting behind the reception desk, casually flipping through a copy of today’sMetro. He’s in his late fifties but could easily pass for forty, with a strong, athletic build, shaven head and a puckered little baby mouth.
He looks up from his paper and smiles at me. I smile back. We’re greeting each other with the easy friendship of two people who have worked together for years.
“What time do you call this? I thought you’d been abducted by aliens.”
“Very funny. Was I really gone that long?”
“You most certainly were, Carly Singleton. Honestly, whatarewe going to do with you?” He folds up hisMetroand throws it down on the desk. “Now, on to more pressing matters. Did you remember to buy my M&M’s?”
“Oh, yes, thanks for reminding me.” I rummage through my bag and hand over the shiny, yellow packet.
“Merci beaucoup.”He takes the M&M’s and tears the wrapper open with his teeth. “How much do I owe you?”
“Forget about it. They were only a quid.”
“You never let me pay for anything. I must owe you a bloody fortune.” Tilting his head back, Mark demolishes half the packet in one gulp. Then he wipes his hands on his sweater. “Right, I’m off to the third floor. The women’s toilet is broken again, and Tim wants me to reset the password.”
“Wow, that’s the fourth time in two weeks.” I hang up my coat and take my place behind reception. Mark swipes his ID on the wall-mounted card reader and steps through the glass partition. As he heads toward the elevators, I shout, “Thanks for covering me, Mark. I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
Within seconds, he’s gone and I’m alone again. Straightening out my cardigan, I smooth back my hair in an effort to look more presentable. Then I crouch down and fumble through the cleaning box in search of the spray polish. When I find it, I wipe down the desk methodically. Just as I’m finishing up, Jill Hopkins, a senior designer who works on the second floor, enters reception. She looks immaculate as always, dressed in a smart tweed blazer with suede elbow patches and knee-length boots.She has a wonderfully horsey face: jutting chin, full lips with a slight overbite and thick, brown hair that comes down to her shoulders.I’m on first-name terms with most of the designers, but I have a particular liking for Jill. Right from the start, the two of us have got on like a house on fire, and I always make time to chat with her.
“Hey, honey, how was your weekend?”
“Great,” I smile.
“Did you get up to anything nice?”
“Oh, you know me, forever the party animal …”My voice trails off and I shift my weight awkwardly.
Jill’s nostrils flare. Then she staggers back and covers her cheeks in mock horror. “Okay,hit me with it. What in the name of sanity are you wearing today?”
I snigger and start unbuttoning my cardigan. At work, my quirky dress sense is legendary, in particular my penchant for novelty clothing. It’s become something of a running joke, and Jill is always clamouring to know what my T-shirt slogan will say today.
“Why … should I worry?” She squints at the writing on my chest, frowns, and shoots me a quizzical look. “What does that mean?”
