Page 165 of Falling for You
Isn’t itBRILLIANT?
I mean, that makes absolutely no sense. They’ve clearly cracked open the champagne Tanya was gifted by a client last week.
We will shortlist and show you when you get back. We’re so excited!
I take a deep breath and send up a silent prayer.
Please God, don’t allow my friends to message these poor, unsuspecting men asking if they’re a) American and b) like female bats.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Nate
‘Here he is, back from the States!’
I look up from my desk and see Brian peering at me in between the forest of plants. He’s wearing a green corduroy shirt and his unruly hair is springing out of the top of his head. It somehow looks wilder than it did the last time I saw him.
‘Hey, Brian,’ I say. ‘Sorry for taking off like that.’
He waves his hands at me. ‘It’s all good. Is everything okay now?’
An image of Mom and Dad flits into my mind, waving at me from the front door as I climbed into my taxi to go back to the airport. Mom was leaning into Dad’s shoulder, beaming at me, looking exactly as she always does. Just like nothing had happened at all.
‘Yeah,’ I say, after a beat. ‘All fine, thanks.’
‘Good!’ Brian cries, slapping his hands together and making me jump. ‘I need to speak to you about stories.’
He walks round to my desk and takes the spare chair, plonking himself down and using his feet to drag himself towards me. I feel myself brighten. Finally, I’ll be able toexperience London properly if I’m being sent on actualexperiencesfor work.
‘Great,’ I say. ‘I can be flexible with days. I used to work weekends quite a bit in New York.’
‘Weekends?’ Brian scrunches up his face in confusion.
‘Yeah, if any of the events are on a Saturday or—’
‘No, no, not them,’ Brian says dismissively. ‘All those events are taken by the rest of the team.’
‘Oh.’ My face falls. ‘Well, what do you want me to write about, then?’
‘You tell me!’
He rests his elbows on his knees and looks at me expectantly.
Damn. After our first conversation, I was really hoping he’d forgotten about this wild idea that, as a writer, I should just be able to think of brilliant stories on the spot.
‘I wasn’t expecting to … let me brainstorm and get back to you,’ I say.
‘No need!’ Brian says at once. ‘Let’s just brainstorm some ideas now.’
I try to stop the alarm from showing on my face. It’s like a six-word horror story:let’s just brainstorm some ideas now.
‘Right,’ I say, realising that he’s waiting for me to say something. ‘Sure.’
I glance around as Helen from HR swans past, desperately hoping that she will distract Brian in some way and save me. One thing I’ve already noticed about Brian is that he is a professional procrastinator. He spends all of his time flitting from one desk to the next wanting to chat about nothing inparticular. I’ve yet to see him open his laptop, let alone sit at his desk, since I started here.
‘I’m looking for something fresh and fun,’ Brian says, leaning back in his seat. ‘So, what you got?’
I blink at him. I cannot think of a single fresh or fun thing.
