Page 12 of It's All Sun and Games

Well, what else can I say?

‘Great,’ he replies. ‘I look forward to it. Oh, Robin, one more thing. Perhaps you should lay off the muffins.’

I don’t say anything, and I don’t pick up my muffins before leaving the room; instead I make my way back to my desk, thinking long and hard about what I’m going to do to prove myself to show Rick that I am a serious contender for this promotion.

I don’t want to change, and I don’t plan to, not really, but I am too early in my career to cause trouble. I do need to do something, though, to show him that this job is important to me, and that I am willing to do what it takes to keep it.

I’m just not quite sure how yet…

5

‘Check this one out!’ Priya grins, waggling a barely-there swimsuit in front of me.

I can’t help but laugh.

‘Oh, yeah, James won’t be able to resist when he sees me spilling out of that thing,’ I joke.

It’s one of those swimsuits with all of the cut-outs. The kind that, if your body is perfect, will look sensational on you. However, if you have any kind of lumps and bumps, or any pieces that aren’t as tight as they can be, you’re not going to have a good time containing yourself. Something as simple as a sneeze could result in a seriously indecent exposure. I’m sure, when Rick was lecturing me on how I need to dress to show my professionalism, accidentally popping a tit by the pool wasn’t what he had in mind. Then again, you never know, he did tell me to be more sexy – although thinking about it, me thinking that a sneeze resulting in a nip-slip constitutes sexy might just prove his point and explain the mystery (that isn’t a mystery at all) about why James doesn’t seem interested in me.

Priya’s laughter quickly turns into a sigh.

‘Seriously, have you noticed how all these swimsuits have insanely high-cut legs?’ she points out. ‘I would be worried about my tummy poking out of the leg holes.’

‘Look at this one,’ I say, holding up a skimpy red and gold swimsuit for her to see. ‘The leg holes are so high, I’d be more worried about flashing a boob.’

‘Well, that will get James’s attention,’ she replies. ‘For better or worse.’

We’re currently walking around Oliver Strand department store, doing some last-minute shopping for our trip to Italy. I should have known, when I smugly packed my case comfortably ahead of time, that I wasn’t born to be so organised, and that something would go wrong. Buying all new things, to then having to fully unpack and then repack, isn’t how I thought I would be spending today. Spending being the operative word too, because it’s not cheap, buying not only all new things, but the kind of things Rick wants me to wear. Fun fact – something I’ve noticed while I’ve been here – is that confusingly it would appear that the less fabric or branding or general craftsmanship that goes into making a garment, the more it seems to cost.

I’m trying to remind myself of that old saying: dress for the job you want, not the job you have. Rick already doesn’t think I’m dressing for the job I have, so I’m playing catch-up there, but I’m also secretly hoping this might impress James too. Dress for the man you want, not the man you (don’t actually) have.

‘Gosh, I hate this,’ I admit. ‘This trip is supposed to be a chance for me to prove myself, but I’m not going to feel myself at all in this stuff. I like comfy clothes, in dark colours, and in the summer I like to wear a cap, and in the winter I like to wear a beanie – hats are for a purpose. Like, does he think I’m wearing a hat because I think I’m Joe from You? No, it’s to keep the sun from my head. Christ, even saying that makes me sound dull and weak, doesn’t it? I know I’m not but… oh, boy.’

‘Okay, first of all, calm down,’ Priya insists. She grabs a big floppy sun hat from a shelf and fans me with it. ‘Second of all, do not worry about caps being banned, because there are tons of these big dumb hats in here, which will be perfect for hiding under. You can easily do your stalking, murdering and general evil bidding – including protecting your head from the sun – in one of these.’

I take the hat from her and put it on my head. It’s huge.

‘Wow, with this one, I can protect my head plus the heads of four of my closest friends,’ I point out.

‘See, you’re a team player, Rick will love that,’ she jokes. ‘That’s clothes, shoes and hats sorted. We just need to figure out the swimwear thing.’

‘I guess I could buy bikinis,’ I say. ‘Just… the most flattering ones I can find. Ones with wires and panels and lots going on.’

‘Good idea,’ she replies. ‘I saw one over there that looked like a genuine feat of engineering. And hey, look on the bright side – at least we’re getting a whole new summer wardrobe out of this.’

I laugh, warmed by her optimism, but amused by my pessimism that follows.

‘Yeah, I’ll look on the bright side until someone from my credit card calls me to check that I’m okay,’ I joke. ‘And then I’ll explain to them why I’m going on a spree.’

‘Perhaps they’ll offer you some fashion tips, along with the financial advice they offer up,’ she adds with a giggle.

‘Well, I never take the financial advice, so I can’t imagine taking style advice either,’ I point out. ‘Come on, let’s grab me a couple of bikinis and get this over with.’

‘You’ve got me thinking I should get some too, now I know that Rick is judging us in that way,’ Priya says with a roll of her eyes. ‘Honestly, sometimes I really want to say something, but I know that there are hundreds of “yes women” who would happily take my job.’

‘Oh, no, don’t worry about it,’ I reassure her. ‘You’re married. He probably thinks you’re settled and that you’ll start popping out babies and that you’ll be financially tethered to him after that. That’s what he wants. People who will feel trapped in their jobs and serve him dutifully, or people who would literally murder him just to make a little bit more money each year.’

I snatch up a few bikinis, trying not to overthink how I’ll look in them – that sounds more like a problem for Italy Robin.

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