All Bets Are On. Charlotte Phillips
was akin to playing with fire. But risk-free, he said.
In the face of the day she’d had, knowing how she was viewed by the entire office, she could see that a date with him might have its merits. She had to do something. Even a stupid ego-boosting date with the office lothario was something if it was done on her terms. And since what she wanted was to prove a point, wasn’t he the perfect choice? High profile in the circles she moved in. Gorgeous. And indiscreet—he wasn’t above dumping his conquests in full view of the office, seeming to revel in his reputation as a player. He’d be bound to tell half the office that he’d been out for a drink with the Ice-Queen. That would throw a spanner in the works of their sad little sweepstake. And she could always back out later if she changed her mind.
She had a choice: end this day as Ice-Queen Ford or accept the offer of a drink and at least be able to tell herself she had a date, no matter that it was with the most unsuitable man in the universe.
‘OK,’ she said impulsively.
He looked momentarily surprised and she realised he hadn’t really expected her to say yes. The idea that she was acting out of character spurred her on even more, offering a stab of what felt like excitement. Except it couldn’t be, because she didn’t do excitement.
Hah! Didn’t expect that, did he? Didn’t expect a yes from Ice-Queen Ford!
To his credit, he collected himself quickly.
‘Great,’ he said. ‘After work?’
The sudden scary reality of what she was doing kicked in and she scrabbled for thinking time.
‘Tonight’s difficult,’ she said. ‘I’m cooking for my flatmate.’ Never mind the fact that slave-to-the-ready-meal Tilly wouldn’t give a damn if she changed her plans.
A muffled laugh from outside the room made her tense. Was this how it was going to be? Thinking every chuckle in the office, every whispered conversation was about her? Enough was enough.
‘I’ll check my diary and let you know,’ she said.
* * *
‘If it bothers you that much—which it must do because it’s all you’ve talked about since you got home—give me one good reason why you aren’t just taking it to the top and getting the whole damn lot of them fired or reprimanded, or whatever it is you do in an office environment?’
Besides sharing a childhood and now a flat with Alice, Tilly sold ethnic jewellery at various markets, dabbled in various other off-the-wall jobs and had an ongoing role as Alice’s voice of reason. Now she pushed her chilli-pepper-red hair out of her eyes and leaned back against the kitchen counter while Alice put dinner together.
‘Because then I’d have to hand this piece of paper over to my boss.’ Alice brandished the betting pool under Tilly’s nose.
Tilly pulled a face.
‘Blimey, he’s not on the list, is he?’
She shook her head. ‘Not as far as I know. Thank goodness. At least there’s one man in the building who isn’t a chauvinist. But it would lead to a big investigation—I’d have to discuss it all in detail. I just can’t face the embarrassment of it all.’
The thought of slipping this piece of paper in front of the CEO filled her with dark horror at the way it portrayed her. Not just the Ice-Queen comment, but the very fact her colleagues were betting on her behaviour. All her hard work to build the perfect corporate image obviously hadn’t cut the mustard with her subordinates. All this time she’d been priding herself on the way her colleagues regarded her. But it was clear from this situation that she didn’t command the slightest bit of respect and revealing that to her boss would only diminish her standing even further. It was like school all over again, picking your way through the years, trying to keep your head below the parapet so you didn’t attract any unwanted attention.
Tilly pursed her lips, considering.
‘You have a point. Plus you don’t want the hideous creeps to think they’ve got to you.’
‘Which they haven’t.’ Alice pointed the wooden spoon emphatically at Tilly, then went back to stirring the chilli con carne.
‘’Course they haven’t, honey. So instead you handle this the only way you can.’
‘Which is?’
‘You have to see it as a sign, use it to your own advantage.’ She waved her fingers in the air in an all-encompassing gesture.
Alice tried not to roll her eyes in exasperation. Did she have to put a mystic slant on everything?
‘For Pete’s sake, Tilly, don’t ask me to see this as some kind of karma, some fatalistic indication from the gods.’
‘Everything happens for a reason,’ Tilly countered.
Alice sighed.
‘OK, then, a sign of what?’
‘That you need to actually do that thing you’re always talking about but never do.’
‘Which is?’
Tilly leaned forward. ‘Get back out there. This whole bet is based on the fact you never so much as go for a drink with a guy. Ever. They see you as some power-suited, uptight workaholic. That’s what they’ve latched on to—that’s the stick they’re beating you with. Well, you’ve licked your wounds long enough. Get back on that dating horse, Ice-Queen, and prove that moronic bunch wrong. Stop procrastinating and go out with this guy from work.’
She folded her arms triumphantly. There were times when Alice wondered how on earth she and Tilly could be such good friends.
‘I’m not ready,’ she protested.
‘You never are. But that’s OK, there is one other option.’
Alice brightened immediately.
‘What’s that?’
‘You could become a nun.’
‘Very funny.’
‘Look, you’ve said you want a family one day. That means at some point you’re going to have to bite the bullet and date again. It might as well be now. This could be just the push you need. And this guy, this Harry, asked you out today.’ She shrugged. ‘So go out with him.’ She winked at Alice. ‘Or I could have a think if you prefer. Julian’s bound to have a few single mates I could set you up with.’
Tilly’s boyfriend, Julian, was a strict vegan who had actually done that experiment whereby if you ceased washing your hair it would eventually cease needing to be washed. The matted result hadn’t convinced Alice to give up the shampoo and conditioner any time soon.
‘Thanks but Julian’s not...’ She groped for a tactful description.
‘Not really your type?’ Tilly grinned. ‘Then go out with this Harry from the office.’
‘But he’s exactly the kind of guy I wouldn’t touch with a bargepole. He’s broken more hearts than you’ve been to music festivals. Harry Stephens: King of the One-night Stand.’
‘Sounds the perfect foil for an Ice-Queen,’ Tilly said, snatching a bread roll from the worktop. ‘And it certainly sounds like he’s into you.’
Alice frowned.
‘I’m not sure he’s exactly into me, as you so classily put it. He offered me his services. As Serial Dater.’
‘As what?’
Tilly looked mystified and Alice couldn’t really blame her. It did sound ludicrous spoken out loud.
‘When I knocked him back on just going out for a drink, he tried to sell it as helping me back into a social life. I think he sees it as some kind of personal glory trip, like he’s mentoring me or something because I’m obviously socially inept. He’s getting off on it, like some kind of dating fairy