Page 5 of The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating

‘But this just… isn’t fair.’ I cringe as I realise how this makes me sound. But it’s exactly how I feel. I look frantically from Sharon to Derek, who avoids eye contact at all costs.

Sharon sighs and quickly moves on to stop me from taking my desperate plea any further. ‘All the terms of the agreement would be settled between our lawyers and your representative – paid for by us. All details of your departure would be strictly confidential…’

As Sharon speaks, I desperately try to gather myself together; to find the confident, assertive young woman I am every single day at work. But she’s hit a weak spot; sliced through and exposed the bare nerve endings of my very deepest insecurities. Ones I didn’t even know I still had.

‘Quit runnin’ after things you’ve no chance at. We’re different, us. You’ll no’ fit in, so don’t bother yer backside tryin’.’

The familiar words I had buried so deep burst to the surface. I fiercely push them away, but they fight back, taunting me cruelly. Lost in this torment, I barely register what Sharon is saying.

‘Liv? I asked you if you have any questions?’

I snap back to the present.

‘I… err… yes, I do. Are you looking for a decision right now?’

‘Ideally, yes,’ Sharon replies. ‘But if you want to take some time to think things through, that’s fine.’

I look at Sharon’s expression and her body language. It’s not fine. She wants this wrapped up straight away. Another deal done and off the table. I’m nobody to her now. Relegated to the subs bench and there’s nothing I can do to change that. I think back to the stories I’ve heard about her being a complete Jekyll and Hyde; tales I’d laughed off, unable to believe she was capable of that, because it hadn’t happened to me. How very naive of me.

I take a faltering breath and sit back in my seat, realising that I’m defeated. ‘So, I’ll go today?’

‘You can gather your things and go straight after this meeting,’ says Sharon. ‘It would be a bit harsh to expect you to stay the day.’

Thatwould be harsh? I’m now in a whirlwind of panic. How can this be happening?

‘So, if there isn’t anything else,’ says Sharon, ‘I think we should call a halt just now. We’ll pick up later on the legalities when you have a representative with you.’

‘Fine.’ I shake my head in defeat.

‘Thanks for your time, Liv. Sorry it wasn’t better news.’

With that, Sharon and Derek get up and leave the meeting room.

I sit alone in shock for several minutes, my confidence shattered, barely able to consider the next few hours, never mind what lies beyond. What did I do wrong? If they really wanted to keep me, they’d find a way. She says it’s about roles, but this feels personal. My career is my life; it defines who I am. All my hard work to get to where I am, and it’s gone, just like that. I never once thought I’d be on the receiving end of a message like this. I was supposed to be a high flyer. Was I kidding myself? Did they just tell me I was good because it was an easier message? As I chew all this over, suddenly my whole future starts to feel uncertain.

Eventually I get up and head miserably for the communications department, where I clear out my things. Thankfully, my colleagues are all in meetings, so I don’t have to suffer the humiliation of doing it in front of them. It doesn’t take long and soon I’m leaving the building for the last time, handing in my staff pass to reception as I go. As I emerge into the pouring rain, I look down at the brown cardboard box I’m holding, then up at the busy city streets around me, and feel completely lost.

What do I do now?

Chapter 2

Several hours later I’m at the breakfast bar in the kitchen/living area of my north Edinburgh modern two-bedroom apartment, poring over online job listings, gin and tonic in hand, fizzing at myself for not handling Sharon better. Why did I let her bulldoze me like that? Where did my political savvy suddenly disappear to? I’ve dealt with worse than her – regularly – and it’s never fazed me before. It’s my job to handle people like that.

My phone buzzes beside me. I grab it aggressively. Seeing that it’s yet another message from a concerned friend at work, I throw it straight back on the counter top.

How did I not see that Sharon was a snake? And Derek too. The slimy bugger didn’t say a word. Not a good fit? What does that even mean? I should have called her out on that one. I’m the one who’s led the most important strategic PR campaigns in that place, managed the press at the most difficult times. I’ve written articles that have sent the share price soaring. I’ve put out internal pieces and run staff engagement events that have defused internal tensions in relation to staff resisting the merger. How can I not be a good fit?

I take a deep swig of my smooth, floral gin and tonic, and scroll down the listings on my iPad, noting that there’s plenty there. I’ll have another job in no time.

My phone buzzes again. This time it’s a text from Dylan.

Hey Squirt. Meeting go ok?

I hesitate. What do I tell him? I compose a very brief summary of what’s happened. But seeing my harsh reality glaring accusingly back at me is just too much. I swiftly delete it and tap out a different response.

Yup. All good as expected. X

Dylan doesn’t need to know. Once I’ve got a new job, I’ll just tell him I decided my promotion wasn’t a big enough jump, so I moved on.

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