Chapter Nineteen

Fiona sunk into a leather chair in the ground floor’s reception to try to catch her breath. It was ridiculously hot outside. She’d be pleased when summer had a break. A storm would be nice about now. Some rain. Anything to stop the relentless heat.

She closed her eyes and sucked in a few breaths of air conditioning.

Beads of sweat gathered on her forehead, clumping her hair to her face. She reached up an hand and tried to sweep her hair back. She dabbed at her forehead with a tissue. She imagined that she looked a mess, but she didn’t care. All that mattered now was taking a few moments’ respite from the heat.

Honey wasn’t the plushest office she’d ever worked in, but they always had heat in the winter and cool air in the summer.

The meeting she’d just attended at one of London’s leading advertising agencies had been horrendous. The air conditioning had broken. Everyone was grouchy, sweating, and exhausted. Then she’d had to get the Tube back to the office in much the same conditions. The walk from the station to the office was short, but it was also in direct sight of the midday sun.

Just before she entered the building, her vision had started to blur, and she briefly wondered if she was going to pass out. Mercifully, the seats in reception saved any potential embarrassment. Though, she still felt like death.

A nice, cold glass of water, she thought. That will help.

She dragged herself up from her seat and walked over to the elevators. In hindsight, it would have been wise to stop on the way back to the office and get a drink. The queues out of the door of the first two places she saw put pay to that idea.

Soho was a tourist trap, especially in summer months. The idea of getting lunch from the local sandwich shop in hot weather was not worth thinking about.

She entered the elevator and selected the third floor. Thankful to have the car to herself, she leaned against the wall and waved her hand over her face. The air conditioning was welcome, but she still felt like she was suffocating. The doors opened, she stepped out of the elevator.

As she approached the kitchen, she heard a familiar voice.

Nicola.

She toyed with her necklace nervously. She hadn’t expected Nicola to be in the office. Or, more accurately, in the kitchen. Where she needed to go to grab a glass of water.

Peals of laughter fell from the kitchen. Fiona leaned against the wall and cursed her luck. She walked a little closer, careful to remain out of sight.

There were two voices. One was unmistakably Nicola, the other was unfamiliar.

She took a breath to steel herself and walked into the kitchen. She went straight to the cabinet and pulled out a mug, then glanced at the table in the corner of the room.

The new girl, Chloe, and Nicola sat next to each other, looking at a number of printed photographs strewn across the table.

What has she got to do with photography? Fiona groused to herself. It’s completely out of her remit.

She filled her mug with water from the cooler and took the opportunity to eavesdrop.

“I just think I got the lighting all wrong here,” Chloe said.

“Yeah, you did. The first thing you need to remember when lining up any shot is the lighting. Is it natural? Artificial? Where is it coming from? How much light is there? Once you work with light, and don’t ignore it, you’ll find your photography will improve.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Chloe said. “I think it’s more than just lighting issues. Look at these prints if you want proof!”

Nicola chuckled. “Well, yeah, but I think you deliberately picked out some of the worst so we could laugh about them. See, this one, this one is okay.”

“I’ve always liked that one. I have a larger print in my bedroom.”

Fiona sipped her water.

She kept her back to them. Her temper was growing as she listened to their chatter. Why was Chloe even speaking to Nicola? Why was she wasting her time, trying to get professional insight into her apparently atrocious skills? And why did the young blonde feel the need to mention her bedroom? It was all completely inappropriate.

She spun around. “Chloe, I think you’re wasting Nicola’s valuable time. She has better things to be doing than helping you change careers. And I’m sure you have work to be doing.”

Chloe’s face fell. “She said it was okay. And it’s my lunchtime.”

Fiona glared at her. She couldn’t believe the girl was answering her back. Making her look like a fool when she was clearly in the wrong and Fiona was clearly in the right.

She approached the table and slammed her mug down.

“Nicola is a professional. She doesn’t need to be wasting her time looking at this… this rubbish. Of course, she said yes, she’s a kind person. But you’re taking advantage of that kind nature with this…” She picked up the first photograph she saw.

“Anyone can see that this is awful. You don’t need a professional’s opinion to see that this is shocking. The framing, the lighting. It’s abysmal. Anyone with eyes can see that. You don’t need a professional to tell you the obvious.”

Nicola stood up and snatched the photo out of her hand.

“Actually, that’s one of mine,” she said. “And I offered to help Chloe because I’m interested in nurturing talent. Which she has bags of. And she doesn’t deserve to be spoken to like that, and neither do I.” She shook her head as she stared Fiona down. “Wow, I had you all wrong.”

Fiona’s eyes widened. She had no idea where her outburst had come from. She wondered if it was the heat. And the insane jealousy that had settled on her like a heavy cloud.

Nicola had already gathered her belongings and was heading towards the door.

“I’ll catch you later, Chloe,” she said as she left.

Fiona covered her mouth with her hand. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Why did she always do this? What was wrong with her?

Chloe was quickly packing her things away, eager to escape as well.

“Chloe, I am so sorry,” Fiona said sincerely. “I honestly have no idea what just came over me. I’ve been in a two-hour meeting with no air conditioning and then the Tube broke down and… there’s no excuse. I’m sorry, that was inexcusable.”

“It’s fine,” Chloe said. She was still anxiously sweeping up her photographs and placing them in a folder. It was clearly not fine. Fiona knew that Chloe was just saying whatever she could to stop the mad woman talking and get out of her way.

She couldn’t believe her reaction. And to speak to a colleague in that tone was unbelievable. Especially a new, young member of the team. She had to fix it.

“It’s not,” Fiona said firmly. “I’m truly, very sorry. I should never have spoken to you like that.”

Chloe paused. Her eyes slowly looked up at Fiona’s. She’d obviously not been expecting a heartfelt apology and was now analysing the intent behind it.

“It’s okay,” she said, with a little more feeling this time. “I know what you mean about the heat, it’s really bad today. I feel a little tetchy, too.”

Fiona let out a sigh of relief. “Absolutely. I’m not usually like that, I really don’t know what came over me.”

Chloe visibly relaxed, the tension in her body slipping away. She smiled.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said.

“I do,” Fiona admitted. “I feel terrible.” She looked at her watch and then at Chloe. “Do you have anything particular you need to do within the next, say, hour or so?”

Chloe shook her head.

“Shall we get out of here, and I’ll buy you a drink? My apology. We can talk about the new email templates, but over a nice mocktail or glass of wine. If you want to, of course. I just want to apologise and prove I’m not a complete lunatic. I’ll message Natasha and tell her where you are.”

Chloe’s eyes lit up. “That sounds great. I’d love to get out of the office for a while.”

“Me, too,” Fiona said. “Meet you downstairs in five?”