Page 21 of If We Were Young

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Wow my day had turned to shit at a rapid rate.

“It’s past lunch.” I shrugged but was still met with confused expressions. “I’m offering you all a very early end of day drink, I retract it in: ten, nine, eight.” That got butts moving and soon all of us were crowding towards the small lift.

My phone rang in my bag and I sloshed some wine as I tried to get it out before it rang off.

“Ronnie Childs.”

“Ronnie, it’s Amanda from Supersaver Foods.”

I hiked in a painful breath. “Hi.”

“Listen, darling, sorry I wanted to call you days ago.”

My stomach dropped at the way she called me darling. You only called someone that if you were about to let them down gently but from a great height.

The whole table watched me. Natalie leant closer, and I waved her off with my hand. Fred sipped his pint, his blue gaze on my face.

“That’s fine. I appreciate you are going through some changes.”

“All sorted, darling. Just a few internal hiccups. Now, I hope you still have space for us? I don’t want to work with anyone else now.”

It took a moment.

“Ronnie? Are you there?”

“Us have space? Uh, yes.”

“Yes? Shall we brunch tomorrow, talk in more detail and run up contracts?”

“Oh. Uh, yes.”

“Perfecto. I’ve got good feelings, Ronnie. This could make something amazing out of both our companies.”

Oh God, it really could.

“Me too.” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “We won’t let you down.”

“Oh, darling, I know you won’t.” Her voice dropped. “I had to fight hard for you, so don’t let me down.”

“Fight hard? Why?”

I bet mega bitch from Arsehole Aesthetics slandered us.

“Don’t you worry. Now, see you at ten thirty. Do you know Red on Brompton Road?”

“Yes,” I lied.

“Perfect. See you there. Ten thirty sharp?”

“I won’t be late.”

“You won’t, I’m paying you.”

I hung up and put my phone back in my bag, dragging the moment out as everyone stared at me. “We got the job.”

Stewart reached over and slapped me on the back, his fingers digging into my shoulder for a minute. Fred grinned and met my gaze.

“Thank God,” he said, echoing the sense of relief that settled around the table. “I think we need champagne!”