Page 55 of The Worst Guy Ever
I’m in a quarterly review meeting with Andrew, his boss, Bob, and a woman from HR who I’ve never met when the text arrives. My heart leaps into my throat at the sight of his name and the notification.
Knob:I’ll pick you up on Friday at 8. Wear something hot.
Here we fucking gooo.
I cross my legs and instinctively squeeze my thighs together while I slide my phone towards me, silence it, and discreetly text him back. I’d much rather text him than listen to any more of Bob’s wittering on about the direction the business is taking this year. I’m not sure why I’m even needed here.
Me:Bit presumptuous. What if I have a date that night?
Knob:Cancel it.
I roll my eyes. Arrogant shithead. I should hate this, him telling me what to do, but there’s no ignoring the pang that I get in my belly when he gets all bossy. I’m still thinking of an appropriate reply when he texts again.
Knob:Shit, do you really?
Me:No, but it’s fun to wind you up. Have a meeting in London until 6. Come straight to yours?
Knob:We’re not going to mine.
Me:Where?
Knob:Top secret. Somewhere you can get out of your head.
Me:And into your pants?
Knob:Exactly x
I should not be this excited, but if I was alone right now I’d almost certainly be jumping around and squealing. Instead, I’m stuck with this bunch of bores wondering what I should wear.
“Are you with us, Hattie?” Andrew’s voice interrupts my train of thought, pulling my attention back to the room.
“Yes, absolutely,” I smile and nod.
“Is there an account that you’re leaning towards, then?”
“Leaning towards for what?” I shrug.
Andrew sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. I look around, confused, and Melissa -or was it Melinda- from HR scribbles something in her massive notebook.
“For your next project. These are the new clients we have in the pipeline and we’d love to utilise your skills on some of their accounts. You can take your pick.”
Oh, crap, I definitely wasn’t paying attention to that.“What about Spirited?”
“The Spirited account is moving in a different direction,” Bob says, matter-of-factly.
“So Lawrence is taking it over?”
“For the time being, yes.”
I turn to Andrew, and throw my hands up in the air. “This is how you’re telling me?”
He can’t even look at me, and now I see why Bob and HR Lady are here. He’s too much of a coward to deliver this news himself, and because they think I’m going to kick off he’s brought in back-up. To be fair, every fibre of my being wants to go apeshit right now, but I know how to play the game.
“For the record,” I say, turning to Michelle -yes, it’s Michelle!- “this meeting was scheduled in my diary as a quarterly review. I think I should have been given more of a heads up about its true purpose. You can write that down in your notebook.”
If they’re going to try to manage me out, I want a record of all of it so I can take them down with me.
“Can you also please note down that I have a two year record of excellent work with Spirited, and ten years prior to that on various other accounts here at DFR.” Michelle just stares at me, eyes wide, clearly unsure what to do.
