Gideon tapped the top of his mechanical pencil, expecting a little more lead to show itself. Nothing happened. He pressed the button a few more times before realising it was time to refill.
It was a mark of how busy he was. He’d only refilled the pencil a week before. He opened his desk drawer and took out a box of Faber-Castell leads and started to replenish the pencil.
In the distance he heard a very determined pair of heels clacking down the hallway. He knew there was a fifty percent chance that Victoria would bypass his office and head straight into the art department.
He felt the breeze of his office door opening. It seemed that luck wasn’t on his side.
He pointed to the empty stool in the corner of his office without saying a word. He heard Victoria sit down, and a few moments later she exhaled deeply.
He finished what he was doing, put the box of leads away, placed his pencil on its stand, and then turned to regard Victoria.
“Good morning,” he greeted her with a smile.
“Holly’s having an affair.” Victoria gazed at the tip of her shoe with disinterest.
“I’d be very surprised if that were true,” he replied neutrally.
“It was bound to happen eventually. She’s young and has her whole life in front of her,” Victoria said casually. “I thought I’d let you know, before the media does.”
Gideon didn’t believe for a second that Holly would have an affair. He’d spoken to her just the other week, and the girl was as sickly in love as she had been since she’d first gotten together with Victoria. Not to mention he was very used to Victoria’s habit of making mountains out of molehills.
“Must be a recent thing,” he commented. “She was telling me just last week how wonderful you allegedly are. Can’t see it myself.”
“This isn’t a laughing matter.” Victoria looked up; anger flashed in her eyes.
To Gideon, the whole thing was ridiculous, but he knew that Victoria had a very different mindset to him. She’d gathered up information and extrapolated the craziest explanation, but to her, it was real. He had to respect that, while also trying to get her to see reason.
“No, of course. So, who is she having this affair with? When is she moving out? Or has she already moved out?” Gideon questioned.
He knew that Holly wouldn’t have moved out; the very thought was impossible to believe. Victoria had jumped the gun, and he wanted her to see that.
“Obviously I don’t know all the sordid details,” Victoria argued. She looked away again, examining the awards that hung on the wall.
“What do you know?” he fished.
“She’s hiding something.” Victoria slowly turned her head, meeting Gideon with a self-assured look.
“Aren’t we all?”
“There was very clearly something on her mind this morning. She all but ran out on breakfast, but she refused to admit something was wrong.”
“Maybe it was something that you don’t need to know about? Maybe she felt ill?”
“Well, possibly,” Victoria allowed. She turned a little green at the very thought of someone vomiting, a peculiar Achilles heel of hers.
“Or maybe she was just tired?”
“Well, yes, of course that’s a possibility. But let’s look at the facts here, Gideon—”
He chuckled and folded his arms. “Yes, please let’s look at these facts. Do you have any?”
She slid off the stool. “I don’t know why I confide in you. This warped sense of humour isn’t charming, Gideon.”
She’d stood up but clearly had no intention of leaving. She wanted to hear his advice but wasn’t about to ask for it. Classic Victoria Hastings.
“Holly adores you,” Gideon told her. “She’s hopelessly in love with you. While you may be convinced that she will one day fall out of love with you, I will eat the next issue of Arrival if that happened this morning over breakfast.”
“I’m not convinced of any such thing,” Victoria denied.
“Hmm.” Gideon sat down and picked up his pencil. He started to sketch the layout he was envisaging for the winter wonderland spread. He could feel Victoria staring at him, waiting for him to say something else.
“Well?” she finally asked, irritated at his continued silent treatment and lack of advice.
“Holly isn’t having an affair, and if you think she is, then you should really be talking to her and not me about it. Just don’t do anything rash, Victoria.”
“When have you ever known me to act rashly?” she complained. “I really don’t know why I talk to you about these things. What kind of advice is that? Oh, and I’m pushing up the editorial meeting to two o’clock. And please don’t try to pitch anything that requires a snow machine for the winter spread. The way climate change is going, we’ll all be associating snow with summer by the time the issue goes out. Think beach balls rather than polar bears, mark my words.”
He felt the breeze of air as his office door opened and closed again. He heard heels clicking into the distance, this time sounding less determined and a little more relaxed.
He grinned to himself and shook his head.