Page 122 of Fix Them Up
I’d tried to speak to her about it, but she shut me down, and Willa didn’t like to be pushed.
We were both relieved when Organism signed the contract for twenty grand for a complete rebrand. And for her, I would do the work. Smile at clients. Get it finished on time. And I promised to celebrate with her at Elias’s, even though the thought of crowded bars and sticky floors made me feel ill. It made me think of my auntie’s smiling face, ugly patterned carpets and Liam’s gaze on me.
But for Willa, I would go and smile and sip champagne.
Besides.
It was my last week at Horizon.
One week, and I’d go back home.
‘Kat.’ The feminine voice was louder now, so I pulled off my headphones. Willa was standing next to me, a look of concern on her symmetrical face. Her eyebrows pinched. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
I looked up at her. ‘What’s up?’
Willa pointed a pink nail to my screen. ‘You’ve been looking at the screen for five hours straight.’
‘And?’
‘You haven’t looked up, tried to make a cup of coffee and failed three times. Nothing.’
I shrugged. ‘I want to get this done for you.’
‘Who are you, and what have you done with Kat Williams?’ Willa said it dryly, but I knew she was hiding her concern under the joke.
I smiled. ‘Still here, Wills.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t want you working yourself to the bone for me, you know. You need to tell me if you’re working all hours. I don’t care if it’s your last week.’
‘I know, I know. God, you’re such a mother hen sometimes.’
Willa rolled her eyes. ‘Someone has to be.’
Sometimes, I wished someone would swoop in and look after Willa for once. I kept that thought to myself because god knows she wouldn’t let me do that.
Willa wiggled her Best Boss mug I’d bought her for Christmas last year in my face. ‘I’m making a coffee. Do you want anything?’
I nodded. ‘A brew would be nice, ta.’
Willa raised an eyebrow. ‘A brew.’
‘Tea. Tea would be nice.’
I checked my phone. The timer read seven days, three hours, and forty-five minutes left. I thought of deep brown eyes, wide shoulders, and insufferable smirks. I thought of the smell of tree sap and petrichor. I thought of Lydia’s dirty laugh and the smile lines by Brian’s eyes.
One week, and I could get back to Liam.
*
The following week, Willa and I took a short walk across our office to Elias’s. It was as buzzy as usual for a Thursday night. Apparently, nothing had changed in London but me. The cold airconditioning of the bar made me shiver, and the sound of the blonde woman’s laughter behind me was piercing. Even Elias’s had lost its shine.
Willa pushed us through the crowd towards two barstools with signs hooked on the metal bars. One saidEvil Witch, and the other,Old Hag. Elias had bought them as a joke one Halloween. ‘Something to keep your seats reserved, ladies,’ he’d said with a too-white smile.
Usually, Willa and I argued over who got the old hag seat, but today, I slipped into it.
A strangled noise had me looking up to find Elias staring at me wide-eyed. Elias had olive skin and cropped dark hair. His shirts were unbuttoned far too low, showing off a muscular, hairless chest.
‘What the fuck –’ he said, a slight accent lingering from his upbringing in Greece til he was fifteen – ‘happened to you?’
