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The receptionist called out to me. “Excuse me, ma’am, you do not have access to that area. If you persist, I’ll have to get security to show you out of the building.”
“Mr Brock! It’s Ria Moon, for our appointment!”
She sounded like she was struggling to raise her voice – she didn’t do it often. “I assure you, the doors here are very soundproof. Please desist.”
I sighed, and held up my hands, returning to the reception desk. “It’s okay. You don’t need to get me thrown out.”
She settled back into her quiet politeness. “Neither of us would have found that pleasant, be assured, Ms Moon.”
It was a gesture of friendship, and I appreciated it. But I was still frustrated. I looked at her. “What do I do now? What would you do? Hang around all day? Or... just leave?”
The receptionist considered this, as if deciding what would be a helpful answer whilst remaining professional. “Mr Brock tends to be timely with his appointments. If he wasn’t there, I would suggest he has been tied up in another area of the business. I’m afraid you must have been deprioritised, ma’am. I don’t think waiting around tends to help in these circumstances.”
Deprioritised. It wasn’t a kind way of putting it, but it seemed accurate. He was a busy man, he’d said. But he’d been the one keen to see me so soon. “He’s already paid for my services.”
“If I might suggest it, I don’t think Mr Brock has to worry particularly about money. I’m sure he’ll be happy for you to keep the sum in lieu of a cancellation fee.”
I exhaled. “Thanks for your help. Honestly. What’s your name?”
“Jenni.”
“Thanks. Call me Ria, if I ever get brought back again. See you.”
“Goodbye, Ria.”
I left feeling largely deflated.
The feeling hung around like a bad smell. I expected to hear back from Forest, some kind of apology or explanation. But there was nothing. Not that evening, and not the next day. I bundled up into my duvet and sulked. Even professional businesswomen such as I were not exempt from the healing powers of a good sulk.
FOREST
Mandy came to visit me in my office. It usually spelled an inquisition. “What power play were you using on that girl earlier?”
“Power play? Girl?”
“The one you sent up for an appointment with you, then never showed.”
“Oh. I don’t think you can call adult women girls anymore, Mandy.”
Mandy rolled her eyes. “She was a girl.”
“There was no power play, anyway. I had to deal with something else. She’ll understand. She’ll have to.”
“Only, that was a matter I could have dealt with. I had no appointments. You specifically took it on. If you weren’t using some kind of power-play on her, then you were avoiding her. I wasn’t aware you were a coward, Forest Brock.”
Mandy had a specific superpower of being able to rile me. It was one of the reasons I’d hired her as my COO.
“Go back to your office and play your little solitaire game, Mandy.”
She did. But her words stuck in my head over the coming days. I had avoided Ria. In truth, the day had come around and I’d not been ready for introspection. But I had wanted to see Ria again. Except the potential that I’d make myself vulnerable again and come undone was unthinkable. I had work to do, and it had taken me some time to gather myself after the previous encounter.
I’d struggled with this internally up until ten minutes before the time of the appointment, when I’d deliberately taken on an ‘important’ task to avoid having to make a decision. I’d ghosted her, basically. Yes, out of cowardice. Mandy was rarely wrong.
She’d still been paid for the session, hadn’t she? What was so wrong? She was just starting out in business, she couldn’t afford to blacklist me for ghosting her. I knew I should feel okay with it, because I was rich and could do what I like, just as I knew that I didn’t feel okay about having done it. Screw Forest Brock and his stupid, unhelpful conscience. This job would be a lot easier if I didn’t have one. And yet.
A few days later I texted her – like a coward.
Forest: Sorry about the other day. Something important came up. Can we reschedule for Monday?
