“Three more days until the weekend,” Ellie says. Her cheerful tone makes me want to throttle her. “What are your plans?”
“I have none. I'm a social misfit with no boyfriend and no friends.”
“Charming.”
“I didn't mean you.” I backpedal furiously. “I was talking about work. I heard one of the girls talking about a night out and I'm pretty sure I'm not invited.” Stupid Caro and her sycophantic sidekicks. “I expect it will be champagne all round.”
Ellie's voice softens. “Let's have a girlie night out. I'll call Sophie and we can meet you in town. Who needs work friends when you have us?”
Her offer brings tears to my eyes.
“Sounds good,” I reply, my voice gruff. “I can't think of anything better.”
“I'd better go,” Ellie says, trying to lighten the mood. “The housing committee meets at three and I haven't printed out the agendas yet.” Ellie works as a secretary at the local council. She tells me her job is just as riveting as it sounds. “Think of me when you're standing in your penthouse office and sipping mocha choco lattes won't you?”
“Sure,” I say, “Because that's exactly what it’s like there. It's a dirty job but somebody has to do it.”
“And you're so good at it.” She pauses, and the teasing tone disappears. “Seriously, Amy, you are good at it. I'm proud of you, we all are. You're like a better looking Donald Trump, but without the comb over.”
I blink to get that image out of my head. “Um... thanks, I guess. Though not everybody's proud of me.” I walk out of the café and into the crisp air. My thoughts turn to Luke again. He left another message on my voicemail this morning while I was at work.
“Everybody who matters is,” she says. I hear a scrape of her chair as she stands up. “I'll call you later, okay? And don't do anything more to piss your boss off. Be charming.”
“Easier said than done.” I laugh. “Speak soon.”
By the time we ring off I'm back at Canada Square. The security guard ignores me as I walk in and join the small crowd waiting at the bank of elevators. When the lift arrives I press ten before I get pushed to the back; I've learned that it's so much easier than shouting. The floor is quiet when I get there; most people are either still at lunch or in their first meeting of the afternoon. Everybody is more stressed in the afternoon, a side effect of our colleagues in the States waking up.
When I get to my desk I shrug off my jacket and hang it on the stand, the heating providing more than enough warmth. Maybe it's the low drone of the air conditioning that stops me from noticing initially, but it takes me a few moments to realise Callum is in his office.
“Have you heard from Sorensons?” An unfamiliar voice echoes through the half-shut door. I can't see who's in there, but it's definitely a man. I tap my fingers on my desk, wondering if I should interrupt and tell Callum I'm back, or if I should just leave them to it.
“They're baulking at the price.” That's Callum's deep burr. “I'm going to have to fly over next week.”
“Stay for a few days, make a weekend of it. I hear Berlin is pretty lively at night.”
A low laugh. “I don't think so.”
“Why not? All work and no play...”
“Makes this company a lot of money.” Callum’s words thicken. “And anyway, you know why not.”
“It's been nearly two years, Cal.”
I'm unashamedly eavesdropping now. I don't even bother to try to look busy. Anything that could possibly give me an insight into Callum has to be a good thing.
“So what?”
I can hear one of them shuffle across his office. “Maybe it's time to move on.”
“I have moved on.” There's an edge to Callum's voice that sends a shiver to the base of my spine. “I'm not exactly living like a fucking monk, am I?”
“You're not exactly having a functional relationship either. Jane wouldn't have wanted this.”
There’s a loud bang. “Don't fucking tell me what Jane would have wanted,” Callum shouts. “At least spare me the bullshit.”
For the first time I feel awkward and exposed. When the mystery man speaks next his voice is so close to the door there's no way I can escape without being heard. So I sit as still as a rabbit in the headlights, too scared to turn on my computer in case they notice.
“How's the new PA? I hear she's a looker.”