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I looked across at Val who was busy mauling another present, slicing open a box wrapped in red, shiny paper.
‘Oh yeah? What’s that then?’ I replied.
He winked. ‘Someone said they saw you and that wanky American CEO guy getting very cosy.’
I stared at Val, hoping she’d somehow pick up on the vibes that I needed her, but she was too busy with her present. I concentrated on remaining calm, on appearing nonplussed and talking in a very casual way, as though his comment meant nothing to me.
‘That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,’ I said, carefully taking a sip of wine, resisting the urge to down it in one. ‘Who on earth told you that?’
Paul smirked. ‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly reveal my source.’
I tutted. ‘Well, whoever it was needs to get their facts straight. We’re working together on a project, that’s all.’
Paul reached for the wine bottle again and topped up my glass, slopping it over the rim so that it pooled on the table. He flicked at it with the edge of his hand, leaving a shiny smear.
‘I’ve heard he’s a massive player, just to warn you,’ said Paul. ‘Apparently you’re not the only Kingsland employee he’s been seen getting close to. Wouldn’t want to see you get hurt or anything.’
I laughed airily. ‘Course you wouldn’t,’ I said, knowing that nothing would give him more pleasure. I imagined that hearing rumours I’d been linked with one of the CEOs had been yet another devastating blow to his clearly very fragile ego.
‘Just be careful,’ warned Paul, swilling wine around his mouth before swallowing it so hard I saw his Adam’s apple move.
It had rattled me, though, what he’d said about Tyler. I was aware that he was probably a player back in New York, but surely he wouldn’t want the hassle of having two women on the go in the same company in London? I wanted to know who Paul was talking about, which other ‘employee’ he was referring to, but I was absolutely not going to give him the satisfaction of asking. Anyway, this was what I’d wanted, wasn’t it, something casual? A fling with someone there was no danger of me actually falling for?
‘What are you two whispering about?’ asked Val loudly, her present-opening marathon clearly completed.
‘Nothing much,’ I said.
‘Actually,’ piped up Paul, ‘we were talking about the rumours doing the rounds. About our Rebecca here and the George-Clooney lookalike from the New York office.’
Of course, the DJ had chosen that precise moment to cock up his set and in the second or so of silence, Paul’s booming voice reached the other end of the table. The girls down there instantly perked up, looking at me like a magpie might eye up a piece of silver.
‘Oh! I heard about that,’ trilled Violet, the reception manager. ‘You were covering for Amanda when you met him at that posh hotel, weren’t you?’
She was squeezed between Abi and Martine from Direct Marketing, the three of them looking all cliquey and brittle, poised delicately on the edge of their seats like exotic birds on the branch of a tree.
‘On the pull at a work-related meeting, tut, tut,’ said Paul.
‘I wasn’t on the pull,’ I protested. ‘I was extremely focused on my work, actually. It was a very stressful—’
‘Are you seeing him, then?’ screamed Martine, just in case the entire bar wanted to know about the whys and wherefores of my love life.
‘No, I’m not seeing him,’ I replied, convincing myself that it wasn’t exactly a lie. God, this was awful.
‘More wine, anyone?’ asked Val, finally noticing I needed assistance.
Everyone nodded enthusiastically, moving – to my great relief – on to a different topic.
I escaped to the loos, wondering how word had got out already when we’d been so careful. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if Paul had started the rumour himself.
I locked myself in the cubicle, listening to the comings and goings in the bathrooms. As was always the case in Bar Monaco, it was the equivalent of the kitchen at a house party, the place where the most sensitive/interesting conversations happened under the cover of fluorescent lighting and the shimmer of Bayliss & Harding handwash. I was just about to flush the loo when I thought I heard my name. My hand dropped to my side.
‘Amanda’s got it in the bag, don’t you think?’ said a voice that sounded suspiciously like Violet’s.
Working on reception was clearly the perfect job for her, since she was privy to everyone’s business as well as their diaries and she used this knowledge to exert a sort of power over people. If you traced back any office gossip, it was almost guaranteed to have originated from Violet’s desk.
‘You don’t think Rebecca’s in with a chance?’ That was Abi, her Liverpool accent was easy to identify.
I leaned against the door of the cubicle.
