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“All the other agencies will no doubt have been given the same brief,” I say, and she shrugs her shoulders.
“It still seems unreasonable.”
“It’s their way of seeing what we’re made of… whether we’re willing to put ourselves out.” She nods this time, like she’s understood, even if she doesn’t agree with the tactic. I turn back to Preston again. “It looks like we’ll be working the weekend, then.”
His brow furrows, and he stares down at my desk rather than at me. “Um… I’ve got a slight problem with that, boss.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. I obviously had no idea Jim was gonna do this, but it’s my tenth wedding anniversary this weekend, and my wife has booked us into a fancy hotel. I already got balled out for not organizing anything myself, but she’s arranged for the kids to go to her mom’s and everything, and although I could cancel…”
“She’d probably divorce you?”
He shakes his head. “There wouldn’t be any need. She’d kill me first.”
I can’t stop myself from smiling, even though his revelation hardly helps the situation.
“Can I do anything?” Livia’s voice makes me jump, and I turn to face her, my smile becoming a grin when I see the expectant look on her face.
“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you. It would mean working the entire weekend.”
“I know, but I don’t have anything else planned.”
Preston stands up, clearly in a hurry to get out of here, presumably relieved that he can go away for the weekend with impunity now… thanks to Livia. “I’ll email you the full brief,” he says, backing away from my desk.
“Okay. Make sure I’ve got everything, though, won’t you?”
“I will.”
He leaves with haste, and I turn to Livia again. “Are you absolutely sure about this? It’s a big contract, worth a lot of money to us.”
“I realize that, and I’m not sure how much help I’ll be…”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m sure you’ll be invaluable. What I meant was, even without knowing the full brief yet, I know it’s gonna be a lot of work. We’ll have to start early in the morning, and probably won’t finish until late at night.”
“I’m okay with that. I get how important this is.”
A thought suddenly occurs, and I get up, walking to the end of my desk and leaning against it, looking down at her. “I don’t suppose…” How do I ask her this, without it coming out wrong?
“You don’t suppose what?”
“I don’t suppose you’d come to my house in Newport with me, would you?”
She frowns. “When?”
“This weekend.”
Her frown deepens. “But I thought we were gonna be working.”
“We are. But I’ve just realized, I’d have been going there anyway, and I’ve got a full office set up down there with everything we’d need. And, at the risk of being presumptuous, we’ll probably be able to work even longer hours. It’s my home, so we can cook and eat without leaving the building, and all we’ll have to do at the end of the day is fall into bed.” I realize what I’ve just said and notice the blush creeping up her cheeks. “Separately… of course.”
Shit. Why did I say that? Because she’s blushing? Because she’s embarrassed? Yeah… but she looks so disappointed now. At least, I think she does.
If only I could ask her; if only I could be sure. But I need to keep this about work, because if I’m wrong, the consequences don’t bear thinking about.
“I’m not coming on to you,” I say, although I’m not sure that helps… not judging by the sadness in her eyes. “We don’t have to go, if you’d rather not.”
“N—No. It sounds sensible.”
