Page 60 of Strictly Friends
‘Marketing director,’ Ruby declared, temporarily forgetting her man-shaped problems.
‘Marketing manager,’ Fi corrected.
Ruby frowned. ‘Head of marketing.’
They stared at each other in silence, and this time Fi blinked first. ‘Fine, head of marketing. But if you want that title, you’re going to have to put in the work.’
Ruby burst out laughing. ‘I’m already the hardest worker in this company by averywide margin, so that makes no sense. Fill me in on what’s been happening while I was away. It was hard to have a decent conversation through those crackly phone lines on the island. Priya tells me she’s set up a new system to stop people swiping stationery.’
Fi hooted with laughter. ‘The freeloaders are fuming, but the funniest part is no-one can complain without dropping themselves in it. She doesn’t take any crap from the account managers, and she’s sent back several “client entertainment” expense claims, politely asking them to “reconsider”. At this rate, she’s going to save me a fortune!’
Ruby grinned. ‘I told you she’d be great at covering the office manager role, didn’t I? Okay, let’s talk about my new job. I’m really excited about the possibilities, and I’ve put together some ideas. Firstly, we’ll need a marketing plan aligned to the five-year strategy, especially now we’re targeting more international accounts, and I can get started on that. I think we should upgrade the CRM system and invest in a more stable conferencing package. We can’t afford dropped connections when we’re pitching campaigns to top-tier clients abroad.’
Fi blanched and raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. ‘How much is all that going to cost me?’
‘A lot less than losing a major client. According to Priya, Ellie accidentally kicked the procurement manager on the Jacobson account off the conference call she was hosting last week, and a couple of the sales team on the pitch spent half the meeting on mute without realising it.’
Fi looked disgruntled. ‘Replacing those systems won’t come cheap, and you’ve already had my most experienced technical guy working for almost a month on a website I can’t raise an invoice for.’
‘I know, but MissIda absolutelylovedit, and it’s going to make a world of difference to her business,’ Ruby said enthusiastically. ‘Nick’s done such a brilliant job with it, Fi. Don’t you think he deserves a promotion?’
Taking one look at her boss’s expression, Ruby decided not to push her luck. ‘Not right away, obviously, but – well, you said yourself he’s the most experienced.’
‘Yes, and he’s paid well enough already,’ said Fi in a tone that brooked no further discussion.
She returned to her chair and, gazing at Ruby, her face broke into a wide beam. ‘It’s good to have you back, Rubes! Tell you what, let’s go across the road and talk about this over a pub lunch. I’ll pay.’
‘Anything to get out of this horrible chair,’ Ruby groaned, hoisting herself to her feet. ‘I’ll get my bag and meet you at the lifts.’
She opened the door and hesitated before turning back. ‘Oh, and Fi? Can we agree there’ll be no more discussion about you-know-who?’
‘I have absolutely no idea who you’re talking about,’ Fi declared, her expression deadpan. Her ready agreement only served to heighten Ruby’s suspicions and she scrutinised her boss through narrowed eyes.
Fi returned the look with a sunny smile. ‘Meet you at the lifts in five.’
Unable to think of a comeback, Ruby shook her head and left.
42
Despite Ruby’s conviction that she had made the right decision in severing ties with Griffin, it was hard not to feel despondent. Abandoning her salsa class in case she ran into him, she had instead taken up swimming, freestyling across the length of the local leisure centre pool until her arms ached and she was exhausted enough to fall into a dreamless sleep. But life without the charming, funny, insightful, and exasperating presence that was Griffin was undeniably bleak. Whether it was rescuing him from his romantic dramas, discussing the minutiae of their day on the phone, taking dance lessons together, downing drinks while his band played at sketchy pubs, or taking Jake out on trips, their lives had been closely intertwined for many years, and untangling their mutual dependence was proving far more painful than Ruby had anticipated.
Ruby’s gloomy mood wasn’t helped by the long, drawn-out nights and short December days, or the shops crammed with Christmas goodies and a festive cheer she was far from feeling. Almost every day, as she bundled Jake and herself up into thick jackets and woolly scarves to face the cold, dark mornings, she yearned for the blue skies and sunshine of Sorrel Island.
But while Ruby struggled to adjust to her new normal, Jake had settled back into school with ease. Happily showing off thetechniques he had picked up from Mac to his tutors and the other students in Art Club, Jake’s confidence had soared. One particular pencil sketch had earned a note of congratulations from MrHinton, who, to Ruby’s surprise, she found herself warming to. The headteacher seemed genuinely concerned with Jake’s welfare, and his approval of their trip – as well as the efforts he had made to ensure Jake maintained his learning while they were away – had shown him in a different light. The only sticking point in their newly established entente cordiale, and one which even the box of candied coconut from Sorrel Island couldn’t shift, was MrHinton’s continued insistence on addressing Ruby asMrsLamont.
Any fears Ruby had harboured that Kenny would let his son down again had been banished by the constant texts, video chats and phone calls between Jake and his father, and their relationship continued to flourish.
Jake’s relationship with his godfather, however, was an altogether stickier proposition and, true to her word, Ruby had handed over control of Griffin’s access to Jake to Auntie Pearl. It was always obvious when her aunt was on the phone to Griffin as she would scuttle out of the room, invariably throwing exasperated glances en route at Ruby, who would pretend not to notice. Although Ruby never asked Jake about his outings with Griffin, she gleaned odd bits of information from her son’s chatter, even as she reminded herself that she had no interest in Griffin’s life.
The bright spot amid all the gloom were the friends she had made on Sorrel Island. MissIda was always on hand for a chat and to provide a dose of her own particular brand of Southern comfort. And then there was Mac, now a close friend and trusted confidant. Back in New York, he was making strides with the portrait which he predicted would be among the best of his self-described magnificent inventory. Mac’s easy friendship and their late-night cross-Atlantic chats were a soothing balm on the rawness of her split from Griffin,while the artist’s renascent romance provided a handy distraction from Ruby’s own barren love life.
A couple of weeks after returning home, Mac had finally taken Ruby’s counsel to heart and journeyed the ten blocks separating him from his estranged wife’s physiotherapy practice, clutching the crumpled but still unsigned divorce papers.
On the phone with Ruby later that night, Mac relayed the details of the first step in his win-Estella-back campaign.
‘What happened when you got to her office?’ asked Ruby, mentally crossing her fingers. She had been high on romance and brimming with optimism when she’d dished out the advice, and she could only pray it hadn’t backfired.
‘Well, kid, I gotta say that no-one was more surprised than me when she didn’t throw me out. I was kinda nervous, but I made sure to say everything the way you coached me, and the good news is we’re now talking. As for the rest, we’ll have to wait and see how things go.’
