Page 77 of One Day Like This (Excess All Areas 1)

He was a good man. A safe choice.

In another world where Matt didn’t exist, she might have reciprocated his interest. But he wasn’t Matt. And Matt did exist.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” she said.

She followed him inside but instead of heading into the main part of the centre, she went to the office she shared with Ibrahim and unlocked the door. Her laptop sat on the desk, and she opened it.

There was an email about Jon from someone she knew could help with his benefits situation. Figuring that out and getting him what he was entitled to would help him immensely.

The next email was from the Central Convention Complex. Her heart raced as she opened.

We’d be thrilled ...

Avoid the Christmas rush ...

Short notice ...

Wednesday 24th November.

Shit.

She had a venue. A really big venue. She was out of her depth. Why on earth did she think she had the skills to pull this off?

Izabel took a deep breath and put her head on her knees.

“You alright, Izabel?” Ibrahim asked as he stepped into the office.

“We got a venue,” she mumbled and took another breath.

“You’re going on a hen-do?” Ibrahim asked.

Izabel laughed and raised her voice. “No. We got a venue.”

“A venue? Oh, wait, you got a venue. For the fundraiser? Izabel, that’s good news.”

She took another deep breath. “Yeah. We got the Central Convention Complex. Eleven thousand people.”

“Do you think you can fill it?”

Little stars were spinning in the corner of her eyes, and she couldn’t decide if it was panic or hyperventilating. She put her head back down on her knees. “I’ve no idea.”

The door to the office burst open. “Hey, can we borrow your extension cable again?” Joe asked.

She heard the crack of a bottle of water before Ibrahim pressed the bottle into her hand. “One second, Joe. Stop breathing like you just ran a marathon, Izabel. You’re going to pass out.”

“What’s up with Izabel?” Joe asked.

Izabel sat up again, the world tilting. “My arms feel floppy. Can’t decide if I’m about to faint or I’m having a stroke.”

Joe looked stricken. “You’ve gone grey. Should we call an ambulance?”

Ibrahim clucked. “She’s being melodramatic. Pretty sure it’s just panic. Sip your water.”

“What am I missing?” Joe crouched down in front of Izabel and put his hand to her forehead. “You feel clammy.”

“Oh, I’m definitely clammy. Pretty sure I’m stress-sweating. Is it normal for your heart to feel like it’s dropping and hitting the floor with a thud every fourth heartbeat?”

“That’s anxiety, love. What happened?”

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