Just for the Rush. Jane Lark
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Christmas.’
It was like he cringed at the word Christmas, as his face screwed up and one shoulder sort of ducked. But after that weird reaction, once his face had straightened up, he said in a flat voice, ‘Yeah.’
‘Weirdo…’ I said as the lift doors opened and I stepped out.
I got the office door and held it open.
‘Heartbreaker…’ he said when he walked past me into the office.
He was such a flirt, but so fit that even though I knew he flirted with absolutely everyone, it still had an effect. It was that pitch in his voice, the look in his blue eyes, and the quirk to his mouth, as much as any of the things he said – oh and how hot his body looked.
‘Coffee!’ he yelled as he set the box down on the desk, then he pulled a cup out. ‘Vanilla latte.’ He held it out to me.
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
My fingers touched his when I took it and my tummy did a backflip, excited by a sexual jolt of attraction.
He turned away and looked into the box again, then pulled out his triple-shot espresso. He drank his coffee like the drug it was, taking shots to charge up his exuberant personality. He walked back into his office and shut the door.
I shouted out the types of coffee and people came over to collect them as I watched him take off his coat. He hung it up on the rack in there, then went over to his desk, picked up his mobile phone and made a call. He walked around as he talked, making large hand gestures. Then his hand gripped in his hair and he looked up, as if he was seeking Divine intervention.
It didn’t look as though he’d received it. He looked like he shouted something into the phone before ending the call. Then he put his mobile on his desk as if it had burned his hand and stood staring at it for a moment. His hands slid into his pockets. A look of exasperation played across his face.
When he sat down at his desk, he picked up his office phone. The phone two desks behind me rang. Tina answered. ‘Hi, Jack.’
‘Your lawyer… Okay, on to it.’
As I walked over to leave the empty box by the recycle bin, about three minutes later, I heard Tina say, ‘He’s on the line. I’ll put him through.’
I felt sorry for Jack. He’d worked hard to build up the business.
But then he had cheated.
I sat down to finish off the project I was working on. I wanted to get it completed before Christmas. I wasn’t allowed near the big accounts, but I’d recently been given one of the smaller ones to manage as a trial. I was trying really hard to come up with a new concept that would blow their minds.
If I was going to make my mark on advertising, this was my moment to start.
After about half an hour I sat back in my chair and sighed. The right idea wasn’t coming. I’d listed, in a mind map, all the things the client wanted, the demographics we knew about their market, the things that were unique about their products, looking for an angle, a hook, a catch… But I couldn’t spot one.
My stupid brain was absorbed with Christmas, and Rick.
He was going to my parents with his parents. The plans hadn’t changed since my birthday – I’d just been dropped from them. ‘Ivy, I think it’s best you stay away from home this year, Rick is very upset.’ Those were Mum’s precise words. Everyone loved Rick and so now everyone hated me. The only person who was sort of with me still, was Milly. But she couldn’t openly be on Team Ivy because Rick was Steve’s best friend – the two of them had paired us up at school. They could not have been more wrong.
Then why had I stayed with Rick for six years? Six years!
Because I’d been lazy. It had just been easy. I’d liked him. I still did. He was nice – why wouldn’t I like him? I even loved him, in a quiet way. But he’d never made my heart pound or my tummy backflip. I didn’t want to settle for ‘like’, or ‘comfortable’, or ‘kind’. I wanted a passionate love. I regretted hurting Rick by letting him think everything was okay. But I didn’t regret leaving. I’d wasted six years of both our lives staying in that relationship when I’d known it was wrong.
When the clock hit two, everyone started packing up. Emma knocked on Jack’s office door. When she opened it, she asked, ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come for a drink?’
I didn’t hear what he said, but it was obviously a reiteration of no.
‘Have a good Christmas,’ Emma concluded.
She stopped at my desk then. I hadn’t stopped working; I wasn’t in the mood for a rowdy pub on Christmas Eve. ‘Are you not coming either, Ivy?’
‘No, I don’t feel like it.’ Emma knew all my troubles, she was my direct manager, and she’d been good about everything – she’d given me time off to look for somewhere to live after my life had crash-landed, and the place I’d found had actually been one she’d spotted advertised on Gumtree.
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes.’ It wasn’t only the crowds, I wouldn’t be able to stand the Christmas music; Christmas was not happening for me this year and I didn’t need reminders of what I was missing out on. It was depressing and I was trying to leave my depression behind.
‘I don’t like leaving you here.’
‘I’m alright, honest.’
‘Why don’t you go home?’
Because there was no one and nothing to go home for. ‘No. I want to finish up what I’m doing on this account. I’ll use the creativity room while it’s quiet and try and generate some ideas before I pack up.’ I looked back at my computer and clicked on print, then stood up.
‘Well, if you want to come down to the pub later, text me, to check we haven’t moved on somewhere, and if you need me over the Christmas break you can call.’
‘That’s really kind, but I’ll be okay. Have a good time.’
‘Take care.’
When she went over to get her coat, I collected the printout of the mind map I’d done and then walked to the door with everyone. They were smiling and laughing, and they talked excitedly. Christmas had an atmosphere that was different to any other holiday; everyone was jollier – using the Christmas word. But there were the gifts, decorations and feasting to look forward to. I wasn’t doing any of those things this year. I was going to sit alone in my room and dine on baked beans on toast. I wasn’t very good at cooking for one. Rick had been the homemaker, not me.
A couple of the guys air-kissed me at the door and I hugged Tina and Mary, and wished them all a good time, and a Happy New Year, because this was it until the 2nd of January; we were finishing up for the whole period between Christmas and New Year.
So as of…. Now. When the door shut. I was on my own.
I walked into the creativity room. It was four walls of blue-sky posters that you could write on and then wipe clean. ‘To encourage blue-sky thinking,’ that was Jack. Emma was the organiser, planner and manager out of the two of them and Jack was the off-the-wall ideas and sales man. He did most of the client work; Emma managed the office and the accounts. The things Jack would find boring.
‘Right. Forget them, forget what time of year it is, I am going to do this. Come on, brain, give me some inspiration.’
I wrote up all the key things I’d thought of so far, then I used the computer in the room to Google relevant images and printed them off and stuck them up against all the facts and inspirations. As the images began to build, I started to think I was getting somewhere, that any moment the idea was going to come, but then suddenly the door opened.
‘What are you doing in here?’