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The next morning Sophie was standing in Shortland Street, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t having a panic attack. The meeting with Josh was at ten thirty, and like a complete idiot she’d told Paige she didn’t need to come.
It was all Victoria’s fault.
Well, at least partly. Last night she’d found herself cornered in the kitchen by Victoria, who at first had inundated her with questions about Richard—that silver fox at brunch, in Victoria’s words, despite his artfully maintained head of decidedly brown hair—and then continued with an endless barrage of her opinions, loosely presented as conversation. By the time Sophie could escape and stagger to her bedroom she felt as if all the life had been sucked out of her. As she had rubbed her temples to alleviate her Victoria-headache, Sophie had started to get annoyed. Why couldn’t she be more like Paige and say what she thought and state what she wanted? Why couldn’t she march around being confidently blunt? Why was she so often engulfed by this kind of anxious fearfulness, whether it was about doing the wrong thing, or saying the wrong thing, or messing up?
Sophie knew most of the reason she was feeling so angsty was this meeting. As soon as Josh had called to let them know when the executives would see them, dread had started creeping into her system, washing over her shoulders and making her feel sick. But she had a PhD in behavioural analysis, for goodness sake. Why was she so nervous? She needed to grab the bull by the horns and make herself face these challenges more frequently, otherwise she’d never overcome her anxiety.
So last night Sophie had resolved to be more assertive and more confident.
Starting with this meeting.
She’d messaged Paige to tell her she’d go to the meeting alone, just to get the contract signed. But now, Sophie couldn’t believe she’d been so reckless. Why on earth had she picked now, this meeting, to try to get over her self-doubt?
She hadn’t been this nervous since her PhD oral defence.
She cast a desperate eye around her immediate surroundings. Was she looking for an escape route or a distraction? She couldn’t even tell, it felt as if her brain was detaching itself from her body and floating up into the ether, abandoning a sinking ship, perhaps. Just then Sophie noticed that about five metres away, standing on the other side of the entrance to the building, was a rumpled and worried-looking man-boy talking on the phone.
“Mum? No, listen, it’s a small thing. I think... I hope,” he added. Worry was creasing his brow and he was shifting from foot to foot, biting his thumb.
Sophie thought the two of them must look like anxious gargoyles guarding the building.
She watched as someone walked past him and said, “Morning Harry,” patting him on the shoulder as they strode into the building. Harry nodded, but returned his attention to his phone call, gnawing on his lower lip before raising his hand to his mouth. “I know, I know.” His voice dropped lower. “And don’t worry, I won’t lose my job, Mum. You don’t have to worry about that.”
To Sophie, his assurance didn’t sound at all convincing and she found herself hoping that his mother believed him. As a sweet fruity smell wafted over to her, Sophie realised he was vaping and wondered if that helped calm the nerves. This Harry person, who was sucking away at the pipe like it was his source of oxygen, certainly seemed to think so. She made a mental note to look it up then checked the time. Her stomach fluttered nervously. Her appointment was in five minutes and it was time to go inside. Sophie took a deep breath, straightened her skirt, and walked through the doors toward the immaculate receptionist.
“Good morning,” Sophie said in her best grown-up voice. “Dr Swanephol. I have a meeting with Josh Spencer.” She was pleased a nervous tremor wasn’t audible.
The receptionist’s eyes flicked up to Sophie and then down again. “Take a seat,” she murmured, her fingers flying over her keyboard.
“Right.” Sophie nodded confidently.
A couch and two armchairs were placed amongst several oversized plants in an area directly opposite the reception desk. Sophie settled in one of the armchairs and picked up a magazine, but kept her eyes up so she could watch the people streaming in and out of the foyer. They all wore Business Suits; had Official-Looking Lanyards; were engaged in Important Business Talk; or conducting on-the-go Conference Calls as they strode past.
Things were a Go in the Land of Business.
Sophie noticed a watercooler directly to her right and suddenly became aware of how dry her mouth was. She stood to help herself to a cup of water, filled it a second time, and then a third, guzzling it back as if it could quell her nervousness. Then, she suddenly thought in a panic, what if I need to go to the toilet halfway through the meeting. That would hardly look professional. She’d seem as if she was so nervous she couldn’t control her bladder, like a kid. She dropped the cup in the rubbish bin and returned to her seat, wondering if there was a toilet in the vicinity. She looked around for a sign, and then at the receptionist, who looked in the opposite direction. An unpleasant and ominous gurgle in Sophie’s stomach threatened much more sinister toilet-based scenarios that she could be worrying about. It was now precisely ten thirty and Josh could arrive at any moment to take her to the meeting, but maybe she should risk it and go to the toilet. Surely it would be worse to have to excuse herself for a toilet emergency.
“Ahem.”
Sophie looked up to see another person sitting in the waiting area. A man in his forties wearing an expensive-looking suit and a smile. Sophie wondered for a worried moment whether she had competition for this gig. The thought made her stomach clench even tighter with anxiety. Josh had made it seem like this was in the bag, but this meeting with executives had been a bit of a surprise. He’d assured her it was a formality, but then had tossed in at the end the casual but terrifying suggestion that she might have to do some convincing.
Sophie’s palms were sweaty. Would they dry before she had to shake hands with anyone? Her stomach rolled and gurgled again. Oh god, who was she kidding, she couldn’t do this on her own. Could she leave? Josh would understand, wouldn’t he? She could get out of here and text him to say something urgent came up. Sophie cast panicked eyes around the room, looking for an escape. The man across from her, looking annoyingly relaxed with a newspaper on his knee, smiled again.
“So, what brings you here?” he said, either ignoring or completing misreading Sophie’s demeanour, which was of someone who’d been taken hostage in a bank robbery.
“Sophie?” Josh appeared out of nowhere and Sophie jumped up so quickly she nearly tripped on her bag and catapulted herself into his arms.
Josh crooked his elbow and said, “Shall we?”
The gesture was not appropriate for a business meeting but Sophie’s legs felt like jelly, so she grasped his elbow and tried to act like a normal person.
***
LEO SCURRIED DOWN THE driveway to his unit at the back of the large Mt Eden property. He kept low, so anyone standing in the kitchen of the main house who happened to be looking out the window wouldn’t see him. That his parents were his landlords was humiliating enough, but the flat was also located on his parent’s property. He didn’t like that they could see him come and go, then casually comment on the nature of his schedule, with his father dropping in remarks about how different things were these days. But he still let his mother do his laundry and he still trundled over there for dinner when he had no food in the fridge—which occurred rather frequently. And while he had also recently become aware of the female-deflecting properties of the situation, what choice did he have?
When he opened the door Emmitt, the cat he’d recently adopted from the SPCA, was sitting on the bench glaring at him.
“Meow,” Emmitt complained.
“Sorry, dude.” Leo had crashed at Barrett’s house last night—a gaming session had gotten away on them—and Emmitt had missed out on breakfast. “I brought you a treat to make up for it.”
Leo held up the fresh chicken livers he’d picked up from the butcher and Emmitt started pacing the counter, purring with anticipation.
Leo was forgiven.
After dropping the meat into a dish, Leo pulled a packet of instant noodles from the cupboard. Meat from the butchers was not something Leo could afford for himself let alone his cat, but it wasn’t Emmitt’s fault and he couldn’t let him suffer. And it was about time he sorted his finances out anyway because Barrett was becoming increasingly hostile. Last night’s gaming session had been less of an invitation and more of a demand. When Barrett had lent him the money he’d good-naturedly assured Leo everything was sweet. But there was a time limit on that good nature, apparently. An incredibly brief one. He had a sneaking suspicion Barrett might soon start charging him interest.
Leo would have to pay Barrett back, but how? Paige and Sophie hadn’t hired him for anything even though they had a corporate job. He’d catch up with them and ask again soon, Leo resolved, but in the meantime, it was probably worth having a look on TradeMe, or Seek. Just in case there was something he could do, some casual job he could fit in around his other duties.
The last thing he wanted was to give up working with S & S.
***
SOPHIE VIRTUALLY SKIPPED out of the building and took a moment, standing on the edge of the street to mentally wooohooo! She’d done it. She’d convinced the boys upstairs as Josh called them—and indeed the four executives seated around the table were indeed all men—to hire S & S to conduct psychometric tests for their organisation.
The meeting had been brief and two of the execs—Sophie had been too nervous to recall names—had excused themselves only twenty minutes in. But Josh had smiled at her the whole time and filled in blanks or added bits as needed. And one of the execs had been a kind-eyed older man who’d smiled at her in encouragement. Those two had made up for the intimidatingly large boardroom environment, and for the other two leaving early and spending the time they had been in the meeting flicking through their phones.
Sophie was beaming as she strode toward Britomart to get the bus back to the office—finding a park downtown was a gamble she hadn’t been prepared to take on top of all those other jitters. When she got to the bus stop she pulled out her phone to call Paige but stopped when she saw the display.
She had a missed call from Roman.
He’d called an hour ago and he’d left a message. Feeling a little like this was a reward for having the guts to attend that meeting alone, Sophie listened to the message. Roman’s lightly accented voice informed her that he thought maybe she could review any interviews they had on Terry’s file. She could use her expertise to see if anything stood out or seemed amiss. Was she free to get together in a few days?
Sophie sucked back an excited gulp of air, saved the message, and texted him back to say yes.
***
AN HOUR LATER, PAIGE and Sophie settled in for lunch at Barilla Dumplings on Dominion Road. As they waited for chicken and celery dumplings and fried beans with spicy salt—termed crack beans because of how addictive they were—Paige thumbed through the contract Sophie had brought back from the meeting.
“Well done, Soph,” Paige said. “We’re in a trial period to start with, right?”
Sophie nodded. “If things go well, they might hire us for more further work, but as a start, Josh wants us to focus on the HR department, and do a sort of psychometric check-up.”
“Not for new hires?”
“They don’t have any vacancies at the moment and right now they’re looking at a corporate restructure, so they want this testing to help with decisions.”
“So, if we give them the kind of data they want, then they might extend our contract for the whole company?”
Sophie shrugged. “I guess. Or, maybe it would be more targeted, if they have an underperforming department, sales-wise, I guess? And they want, like, an audit for their staff?” Sophie shrugged again. “For now, we have to run tests on Josh’s staff.”
“But he doesn’t want every test under the sun, surely.”
“No. We chatted about that. He wants personality tests and general aptitude tests to make sure people are in the right jobs. We’re going to do a check on people’s understanding of their job descriptions as compared to their actual job descriptions, and then look at the personality fit. And then, once everyone has been tested, he wants an assessment of the departmental culture and any potential problems within the various teams.”
“Like, personality clashes affecting productivity?”
“Right. And also how engaged his people are, overall.”
Paige nodded. “Gotcha.” She put the contract into her bag.
Sophie looked thoughtful. “Hey, we’re not giving the execs ammunition with which to fire people, are we?”
“I don’t know, but they aren’t starving children, you know? These are fully functioning, educated adults, some of whom have probably been slacking and could do with a kick up the bum.”
Sophie grinned. Paige’s take on things was almost always insensitive-slash-blunt, but sometimes rather helpful.
***
HARRY PAUSED OUTSIDE Josh Spencer’s office, rapped twice on the door, then poked his head inside. “Hey. Is now a good time?”
Josh looked up. When he saw Harry he jumped up from his chair, hurried over to the door and peered out, scanning the corridor outside his office. “Yeah, come in.”
Harry took a seat and cleared his throat. “Hey, um, you know Kate?”
“Just a sec. I need to get a couple of emails off,” Josh said.
While Harry waited, shifting nervously in his chair.
Finally, Josh sat back and regarded Harry. “Good weekend?”
He was trying to seem cool and relaxed. Like a chill dude. But in reality, these meetings with Harry always made him a little nervous.
“Not bad. Hey, I was wondering... Do you know Kate? In payroll?”
Josh shrugged.
“Well, uh.” Harry cleared his throat again. “The, uh, payroll report from last month...”
Josh held up his hand. “Harry, mate, talk to Michelle. She’s your supervisor—I just run the show.” He chuckled, as if he’d said something witty.
“But—”
“Hang on.”
Josh checked once again that no one was loitering around outside his office, then closed the blinds.
