Page 49 of One Month's Notice

Nat watched as she breezed through the apartment towards the lounge. Clara’s gaze swept over her, cool and detached, before landing on the portfolio sitting on the coffee table.

“What’s this?” Clara waved her hand over the table, setting her over-sized designer handbag dangerously close to Nat’s work. She began flicking through the pages.

“Natalie is an interior designer when she’s not working for HealthLink.” Michael took the paperwork from Clara.

“Interior design, how quaint.” Clara’s lips curved into a condescending smirk.

“It’s a tough industry to get into. I’m quite proud of my work.” Nat’s words lacked the conviction she was trying so hard to portray.

“Of course you should be.” Her voice dripped with insincerity as she smoothed down her vibrant red hair. “Everyone needs a hobby, right?”

Hobby. The word echoed in Nat’s mind, trivialising every ounce of effort she’d poured into her career. There was a brief pause, bordering on a standoff. The warm, comfortable atmosphere from earlier in the day had turned icy in Clara’s presence.

Michael cleared his throat and directed Clara’s attention back to the task at hand.

“Let’s get started on this.” He guided her to the dining table. “We have a lot to go through before Friday.”

“Of course.” Clara flipped open her folder with an air of self-importance. She perched at the edge of the table as she leaned in towards Michael to examine the document, her shoulder brushing his with every deliberate movement.

Nat watched from across the table, her fingers curling into tight fists on her lap. Her eyes, usually warm and vibrant, narrowed as she observed the scene playing out before her. She wanted to believe that Michael was oblivious to Clara’s advances, but the doubt seeded by her presence left her own confidence wavering. Even with the knowledge that Clara was engaged, Nat knew this was all a game to someone like her. She thrived on attention from men, and would stop at nothing to get it from whoever she could. It was all the more fun when there might be some competition.

“Looks like we’ve covered everything.” Michael closed the folder with a sense of finality.

“Perfect timing.” Clara stood up and stretched, reaching her long, perfectly manicured fingers above her head. “I could use a glass of wine after all that work. What do you say?”

Michael checked his watch. “Sure, why not?”

Clara walked towards the wine cabinet. The sound of her heels clicking against the tiles felt like tiny hammers inside Nat’s head. She opened the door to reveal rows of bottles nestled inside. Her hand hovered over the selection before she plucked a bottle of red and held it aloft like a trophy.

“Ah, this one is just what I was looking for.” Clara looked directly at Nat. Although her expression made it clear who she was really talking to. “Michael, I remember you getting this when we were away on that trip to France. Visiting that vineyard together was so much fun.”

Nat bristled at her attempt to show off her familiarity with Michael and his tastes. She bit back the retort that bubbled at the edge of her lips—the urge to tell Clara that she wasn’t the only one who knew how to appreciate a good vintage.

Instead, Nat remained seated and just smiled. She wondered if Michael noticed her discomfort or if he was too preoccupied with business. For a fleeting moment, she longed for the simplicity of chopping tomatoes and laughter, for the easy back and forth that had been so unexpectedly delightful. She watched as Clara reached for two glasses, placing them on the counter and checking the drawer for a bottle opener.

“You’ll stay for a drink, won’t you, Natalie?” Michael reached for a third glass and placed it next to the others.

“I’d love to.” Nat stood and walked to the counter, making direct eye contact with Clara. A hint of challenge flashed across her face. As the cork gave way with a soft pop, Nat braced herself for what was to come, fighting against the rising feeling of not being good enough.

Nat sat back on the couch and took a large sip of wine. The alcohol filled her with courage almost immediately as she listened to Clara brag.

“If this deal with Spinigma goes through, we will be on target to make the FTSE100 within the next couple of years.” Clara smoothed down her hair. “And I will be the youngest female Chief Financial Officer in a social media company.”

Nat couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’d love to hear more about the reasons why we’re considering partnering with an organisation that likes to make their profit from people who are addicted to gambling.” She directed the request to Clara, a sense of boldness growing within her as she studied her face for a reaction. “Exploiting vulnerable people seems like a strange fit for a company that prides itself on being socially and morally responsible.”

“Well, it’s a solid financial move, Natalie. The revenue potential is immense. We’d be fools not to go for it.” Clara took a steady sip of wine and narrowed her eyes. “But I wouldn’t really expect someone like you to understand it. You’d be much better off sticking to organising meetings, making coffee, and playing with your house designs.”

Nat’s anger flared, but she tamped it down, humiliated once again by Clara’s dismissive attitude of her passion.

“Surely there are other options that don’t involve…” Nat’s voice trailed off, her argument losing steam as she saw Michael nod in agreement with Clara.

“Sometimes the best opportunities require tough decisions.” He shrugged. “We have to think about the company’s growth.”

Nat frowned. She knew Michael’s words echoed Clara’s sentiment rather than his own.

Clara smirked, her eyes glinting with triumph as she reached out to refill her glass. As she set down the bottle, in one careless motion her hand knocked against the glass. The contents spilt out, flowing like a crimson waterfall over Nat’s portfolio.

“Clara!” Michael reached forward to stop the glass, but it was too late.

---