Page 18 of One Month's Notice

“Just be there by eight a.m. sharp.” He hung up before she could respond.

The knot in her stomach twisted tighter as she stared at the screen and panic swirled within her, threatening to overwhelm her. She needed advice, comfort—someone to help her process her thoughts. Her fingers hovered over the screen, scrolling down to Lexi’s name, and pressed ‘Call’.

“Hey! How’s it going?” Lexi chirped as she picked up the call, her bright tone a stark contrast to Michael’s irritation.

“I messed up,” Nat sighed, feeling tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I messed up big time.”

“Hey, slow down. What happened?”

“Michael just called me. I was supposed to sort out a reservation for dinner with an important investor. I must have forgotten to book it with everything being so busy at the house with Lucy and Louis, and now he’s furious with me,” Nat said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “He wants to talk Tuesday morning, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to fire me.”

“OK, first things first—take a deep breath,” Lexi instructed. “It sounds like an honest mistake. Just explain what happened, apologise, and make sure it doesn’t happen again. Just be professional—it’s your first week and you’re still learning.”

“You’re right.” Nat exhaled. The breath she didn’t realise she was holding escaped her lips. “It’s just so hard when everything is so new, and I feel like I’m constantly trying to prove myself.”

“I get it,” Lexi reassured her. “But remember, nobody’s perfect and everyone makes mistakes. You’ll learn from this and become even better at your job.”

“Thanks, Lexi. You always know what to say,” Nat said, feeling more settled as she wiped away a stray tear.

“Anytime. Just call if you need anything, OK?”

“Will do. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Chin up.”

Nat rested her phone on the edge of the bath, staring at it for a moment before letting out a shaky breath. She closed her eyes and submerged herself under the water, feeling the weightlessness as her long hair floated around her. As she held her breath, she replayed the conversation with Michael in her mind, his frustration clear in every word he had spoken. Would this one mistake be enough for her to lose her job? Simon would be furious with her.

Resurfacing, Nat gasped for air and wiped the water from her face. As she looked around the bathroom, her gaze fell upon the assortment of design magazines that she had sprawled across the floor earlier. They served as a reminder of the future that might be even further out of reach if she was going to be spending her time finding another job.

Taking a deep breath, she resolved to face the upcoming confrontation head-on. Tuesday will be another day, she reminded herself, another opportunity to learn and grow.

“Sink or swim,” she whispered, before closing her eyes and slipping deeper into the water, trying to drift away from the worries plaguing her thoughts.

Chapter nine

Tuesday 3rd May

Nat checked the message on her phone.

“Twenty-three,” she muttered, running her fingers up the buttons on the polished silver panel of the imposing building in one of Kensington’s most affluent neighbourhoods. The number was right at the top—she assumed he must live in the penthouse apartment that crowned the exclusive development. The property developers would have never marketed these exclusive dwellings as a mere ‘block of flats’. This was decidedly the epitome of extravagant living and Nat couldn’t help feeling a tad underdressed and out-of-place amid such unapologetic luxury.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise—where else would the CEO of a successful social media company live? This was poles apart from the life of a failing interior designer. One who had no choice but to move out of a tiny flat and in with her brother. She looked up and felt even smaller at the overwhelming sight of the enormous building towering above her. The speaker crackled and Michael’s voice boomed out.

“Come up.”

The speaker clicked off and the sound of a buzzer made her jump. Nat was already on edge, her nerves like coiled springs and ready to snap at any moment. She pushed the heavy glass door open, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

The foyer was airy, with pristine marble floors and contemporary art decorating the walls. Lush plants were dotted around, providing splashes of vibrant green against the neutral tones. Two comfortable leather sofas welcomed residents and guests to take a seat and admire the city views through the tall windows. This wasn’t just an entrance space, this set the stage for the luxury and comfort that you could expect throughout the entire building. The place even smelt expensive.

Nat made her way to the lifts and pressed the button. She fiddled with her nails as she waited for it to arrive, watching the illuminated numbers count down slowly above the doors. They ticked down towards zero—a cruel timer set especially for the unfortunate fate waiting for her upstairs. When the doors finally whooshed open, she stepped inside, her heart pulsing in her chest. The speed of the lift caused her already sensitive stomach to lurch, and she placed her hand on the railing to steady herself.

The doors opened on the top floor. Nat stepped out and took a few paces forward to stand in front of a large black wooden door with polished silver numbers. Before she had a chance to knock, the door opened. Michael was on his phone and beckoned for her to come inside. She closed the door behind her and followed him through into an enormous open-plan kitchen, dining area and lounge.

Floor to ceiling windows took up two sides of the room, showcasing a sprawling city view of skyscrapers and tower blocks with the river carved right down the middle. Nat took in everything around her. Each piece of furniture was carefully placed to maximise the sense of space. Not that the apartment needed any help to feel any bigger. Her old apartment could have fitted into just the kitchen area.

The use of whites, greys, and blacks across the space complemented each other to highlight the light and dark, creating different zones. But something was missing. There was no colour, no sense of life, nothing that gave away Michael’s personal identity. Nat guessed he had paid someone to furnish his apartment, but they hadn’t taken the time to get to know him. Or he didn’t want them to know him. She would have done a much better job, given the chance.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” Michael had finished his call and signalled for Nat to take a chair up at the breakfast counter. “Can I get you a coffee?”

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