Page 73 of Hits Different

In desperation, I posted a picture of the two of us on my public account and tagged him. It’s a selfie we took after he’d helped repaint the fences. His arm is slung casually over my shoulder, and I’m laughing my head off.

I captioned itreunited and it feels so good. I can see him rolling his eyes and roasting me for the basicness of it all, but I don’t care. Anything to get his attention. To show him I’m cool with the world seeing us together. In a matter of minutes, it’s blowing up with likes and comments by everyone we went to high school with. But nothing from him.

I’ve distracted myself working until midnight on my pitch to the Garrison. I can barely concentrate, but Archie told me this morning that Summit had been hit with two more cancellations.

My phone beeps. From behind his desk, the Garrison’s receptionist glares at me. I discreetly slip it out of my blazer pocket, and blink in surprise at the screen.Millie St Clare has requested to follow you. I haven’t spoken to her since we split up.

I decline the request, but a minute later, I’ve received a message.

Millie: Can we talk?

What the hell? Opening the ex-files is the last thing I need right now.

“Mr Di Rossi?” The Garrison’s receptionist peers over his computer screen. “Do you have an appointment?” His tone implies he already knows the answer.

“I was hoping to make one. With the manager, if possible. I’m sure she has a busy schedule, but any time in the next couple of weeks would be gr–”.

I break off as a woman in her late fifties, in a pale pink suit and coiffed hair stalks across the marble reception, her heels clacking impatiently. “Sebastian, where are the invoices I asked for?” She pauses, looking me up and down. I guess I don’t exactly look like a guest. “Who’s this?”

“This is Parker Di Rossi. He’s looking to make an appointment with you”, Sebastian lowers his tone, “I told him you were busy”.

“Regarding what?”

“Sorry?”

“What”, she repeats loudly and slowly, “Did you want to speak about?”

“Oh!” I fumble with my binder, “Firstly, it’s great to meet you. My name is Parker Di Rossi…”

“I believe we have covered that”.

“And I work at Summit…”

She sighs loudly, returns her attention to her paperwork. I clear my throat. “I was hoping I could talk to you about an opportunity for our two businesses to collaborate on…”

“So you’re Summit’s owner, are you?”

“No, not exactly”.

“Then what exactly are you?”

“I’m responsible for”, I hesitate. I can hardly say ‘The Shit-List’, “Uh…”

“Let’s try something easier. What did your MBA teach about the correct way to approach a business?” Her smile is unfriendly. “You do have an MBA, I assume?”

I shake my head, and she tuts impatiently. I force a smile. “Maybe we could find a time that might work better for you…”

“I’ve already had this conversation with a representative from Summit, and as I explained to your employer, the Garrison is an institution. We have a certain clientele, and longstanding relationships with a number of international stakeholders. None of whom would be impressed that I had entertained some kind of partnership with people who have nothing better to do than to kick balls around for a living”.

I don’t know what to say. I just stand there, stupid and exposed.

“May I offer some advice?” She continues, without waiting for a reply, “Barging into a business with ill-thought out and unprepared pitches is a waste of both of our times, and mine at least, is valuable”.

She waves her hand in the vague direction of the door, “Try talking to one of the local hostels. That might be a better fit for you and your little idea”.

I force down the lump in my throat. “Thank-you”. I hold out my hand, “For your time”.

She looks at it with distaste. Her minion makes a show of hiding his smile behind his hand. I want to smack him in the mouth.

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