Page 46 of The Wedding Game

I cut him off before he can get any further. ‘Thanks, Max, enjoy your doughnut.’ And I make a swift exit back to my desk.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Lexie

I stare at the email on my phone the next morning from Max Riley, acknowledging receipt of my application for the job Chris recommended and asking if I’d be available for a video interview today, with a selection of times offered.

I scramble into a sitting position in bed. ‘I’ve got an interview!’

I’m talking to myself, because Josh is long gone to work. I’m excited, elated and then I’m petrified, and all these emotions happen at once, accompanied by the physical feeling of wanting to be sick.

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. I don’t say anything more. Instead I reach to the bedside table and down the entire glass of water that I get for myself each night, but never ever drink. Until now.

I’m shaking. My hands are actually shaking and I don’t know what to write in reply. I type carefully, reading my response three or four times to confirm that yes, I’d love an interview and double-checking the time they want it. I’m available all afternoon to fit their time zone, but don’t knowhow to phrase that without sounding like I’ve got nothing else to do all day – which I don’t really, barring helping Josh a bit down on the farm.

The head designer Max’s email came in overnight, so it’ll take a while for him – or maybe Max is a her – to reply as, by now, they’ll be asleep in New York. This buys me a bit of time to prepare, although I’ve no idea what to say or what questions I’m going to be asked. I wonder if some of them might be:So why does a fully-grown adult who’s over thirty want an admin role masquerading as a design job? Why don’t you have your shit sorted out already?I hope Max doesn’t ask me that, even though both of those questions would be fully legitimate. Someone from HR will probably have a rule about those kinds of questions, though, I muse to myself as I head towards the shower and mentally plan out what I’m going to wear – the nicest of all the tops I’ve brought to Josh’s, so that on this Zoom call I will look professional.

When the time comes round later that day I have worked myself into a nervous frenzy. I have set out my portfolio next to me, so I can refer to anything I’m asked about; I’ve a glass of water ready to unstick my mouth with; and I’m trying to look relaxed in Josh’s sitting room. The fire is lit behind me, and I hope the look and feel appeal to Max aesthetically while I’m being interviewed. It can only help, surely? I hope I don’t look like I’m desperately on the scrounge for a job – which I am, and this would be confirmed if I was having this video call from my tiny little bedroom in my tiny little flat dotted with Ikea furniture.

But, in the end, the interview goes fine, other than thestupid little wave I give Max when our video screens connect, and the stupid little wave I give himagainwhen we finish and say goodbye. I close my laptop lid and stare into the middle distance. I remembered to unmute myself, and he put me at ease with a smile and lots of discussion about my portfolio, my influences and my thoughts on current trends. Other than that, I’d been so nervous that the rest of the interview has melted into my brain and disappeared from my memory, which is probably a good thing.

Later on, while I’m sitting around – the house immaculately cleaned again – and waiting for Josh to come back to the farmhouse, so I can tell him about the interview, I realise I need to thank Chris, as he made this happen. But I don’t want to restart things after I cooled them down; especially after his prior confessionI can’t stop thinking about you,I’m a bit lost as to what to do, what to say. I read that message back more often than I should. I try to hear Chris’s voice saying it. I know I shouldn’t, but no one has ever said that to me before. Ever. I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’ve had zero luck in relationships, zero luck with jobs. But now my luck is picking up and it’s all happening at once. I take a deep breath. It’s heady and overwhelming, all at the same time. It makes me feel higher when, for so long, I’ve felt so low. I’m going to say thank you, because I wasn’t raised to ignore people when they give you a leg up. I hate the fact we probably won’t talk much now, after this. But a note of appreciation is due.

I just wanted to say thank you,I type to Chris.I’ve had an interview for the job you recommended.

He appears online, begins typing.I know,he writes.

How do you know?

We’re not a huge company,Chris types.I sit about ten feet away from Max. I may have overheard some of your interview.

What?! Were you earwigging?

Earwigging? What a great word. I heard your voice when your Zoom connected.

Oh God,I reply.Did I sound like I knew what I was talking about, or not really?

I heard you say, ‘Hi, nice to meet you’, then my head shot up and I thought: Oh, so she applied. Then Max remembered to plug his headset in and I couldn’t hear anything else. How do you think it went?

I hope it went well, but I’ve been wrong about that before. He’s really nice, though, isn’t he?

He is, yeah. You’ll like working with Max, if you get it. They’re all great. I hope you get it.

Me too,I say, somewhat obviously.

Our conversation stalls for a bit. Chris is still online, and so am I, but I don’t know what to say now. I should probably go. I hear the front door bang, announcing Josh’s arrival home, the sound of his wellies hitting the flagstone floor as he takes them off one by one, the floorboards creaking comfortingly as he walks from the hall to the sitting room, pops his head in and waves.

Thanks again. Have a good rest of day,I tell Chris. I look at my phone mournfully for a few seconds, then put it on the coffee table, so I can give Josh a kiss before we eat dinner together and I tell him all about my day.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

‘I don’t understand how this has happened. It can’t have happened – it can’t have done!’ I squeal down the phone to Scarlet a few days later.

‘You have so little faith in yourself,’ she says and then, ‘Hang on, I need to look busy for a minute. I’ve been on Instagram for ages and my boss is watching me.’ I hear her opening and closing her desk drawers, then she taps away loudly at her keyboard and ruffles some papers. ‘That’s better,’ she says. ‘She’s looking the other way now. Why are you so surprised that you got it?’

‘Because I never getanything. Not even temp jobs these days,’ I declare as I stand in Josh’s garden and watch huge sunflowers bend and wave in the breeze. ‘I got a job. Arealjob!’

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