Page 84 of Sleep

“Interesting.” I’d heard rumours. Years’ worth of rumours. I’d never thought it was a viable option. But hey.

“Our investors agreed from the start that we would need a fresh, bold connoisseur to curate our cellar and oversee our investments. Your name was the first to be mentioned.”

“Hang on,” I interrupted. “I’m a maître d’ down at the Clouds. I have no formal qualifications. Are you sure?”

“Here at Smyth and France, we don’t do anything on a whim. Mabel, you’ve been on our books for the past ten years, and this is the first time we’ve managed to actually meet face-to-face. Your management has kept you tightly guarded and unavailable to us for. Mark Quinton is not a man to be messed with.”

Okay. So Jessica was scared of Mark. Interesting. There was a story there.

“What exactly are you offering me?”

“We’re aware of your educational history.” That was Jane again. I didn’t recognise her, but then, my brain could be a black hole. “Which is frankly, impressive. A wide range of skills that make for a well-rounded and highly adaptable individual. I have experienced you in action.”

“I’m afraid I can’t recall. I meet over a thousand people a week, and—”

“I am fully aware of that, Donovan. I was with my family. Don’t worry. As Ms Pravath explained, we have had you fully vetted. Referenced. Background searches completed. We’re a very thorough firm and do not make hasty decisions. But this is not just an offer of employment. This deal, if acceptable to you, will come with shareholdings and a very generous remuneration package, complete with travel benefits.”

Shit. Again.

“You will be expected to have at least one hundred away-days and purchase directly from your vineyards, building exclusive connections with crates made just for us. We want to be ahead of the game, have our harvests secured in advance. And that work will start now. We’re aiming to be fully open in four months and need our cellar stocked…yesterday.”

“Months? That’s not much time.” I was a head waiter with silly hobbies, and now they were asking me to travel the world and secure exclusive deals from vineyard owners? They were nuts. All of them.

“You expect high-end wine producers to allow me—” I started, but Jessica jumped in again.

“Yes, you. You are someone people don’t forget in the first place. You will be the main face of the Exchange. The head of our cellars and part of the leadership team. We all have a lot to learn from you. Twenty years of creating one of the most impressive wine lists London has ever seen, working in a chain hotel? It’s time to move on, Donovan.”

All that fear of jumping, and here I was, about to skydive off the bloody moon.

I could barely breathe as I left the building, getting completely lost in an unfamiliar part of London before finding my car and draining my debit card into the parking machine. I couldn’t function. Not at all. I needed Jonny.

My hands were shaking as I got in the car and fished my phone out of my pocket, dialling his number as I tried to get myself under control. I needed to eat. Had I eaten? God. I was as bad as Jonny.

“Hey,” he said, making me take another deep, shaky breath.

“Can…” I started. “I’m coming back now. Is that okay?”

“You live here, Pickle,” he said quietly. “I love you.”

“Okay,” I said, hanging up.

Then I burst into tears.

28. Jonathan

The meeting with Thomas Wu was going on longer than necessary, ironing out minor details he should have discussed with his architect, not with the guy who was just the face behind the money.

All that talk about being the man and finally taking charge of my life? I seemed to roll through good days, then hit the odd bad one. Really good hours, mixed with catastrophic ones full of doubt, when I wanted to hurl myself into the gutter and wail in misery. Today? I felt wrung out by everything, in need of something, and I didn’t even know what.

I was sleeping better, not perfectly, but I sometimes managed a few hours of solid sleep. I ate proper food. And I had Mabel.

All of which led to me sitting here in Mr Wu’s fancy glass office, grinning like a fool.

“You’re happy,” he said, taking off his glasses and resting his arms the table. Relaxed was not his natural state, and it made him appear like a stranger, and entirely different man from the one I had spent the past couple of hours arguing with.

Thomas Wu only ever relaxed after he’d got what he wanted, and I’d fought him on every point today. He was an exhausting human being to interact with, and I was so ready to leave.

“I am,” I admitted, swallowing my words. My father would have killed me had he heard. “Never lose control.” Well, Dad, I was in full control. A new kind of control.

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