“Ok Opal. Where are we with the Graham deal?” Mr. Connell asks.
His voice pulls my attention away from Brett, as I perch on the end of Mr. Connell’s bed and begin to tell him the latest on the Graham deal.
He nods as I talk, taking occasional notes.
I’m very much aware of the exact moment Brett stops looking at the file and starts taking notice of what I am telling Mr. Connell. I feel my cheeks growing red again, and I start to fumble my words.
If Mr. Connell notices, he’s too polite to ask me about it.
The whole time we’re talking, I can feel Brett’s eyes on me. He doesn’t interrupt and the odd time Mr. Connell directs a comment in his direction when there’s something he particularly needs to know, he speaks with a stilted formality, as though he’s talking to a stranger.
It makes me curious and I’m dying to ask them about it, but I know for a fact that’s not a good idea and naturally, I hold off from asking about it. “I think that’s everything pressing,” I say finally.
I’ve been talking long enough for Mrs. Connell to come back with coffee for everyone, even me. She is still short with me, making it clear that she thinks this whole impromptu business meeting is my fault. I wish I could tell her the truth; that right now, I’d give anything to be back at work, safely tucked away in my office, away from Brett’s scrutinizing gaze that makes my insides tilt.
She sits in the corner of the room, a sulky look on her face.
“Did you catch all of that Brett?” Mr. Connell asks.
“Yes,” Brett replies.
“Have you got any questions about any of it?” Mr. Connell presses him.
Brett shakes his head. “Nope. And I know – if I run into any problems, I’ll ask Opal.”
I love the way my name sounds on his lips. I’ve never really liked my name. I was named after my mother’s grandmother. The name is so old fashioned and I’ve always cringed when I introduce myself to anyone, but on Brett’s lips, it sounds modern and exotic. Exhilarating even. “Is that everything then Mr. Connell?” I ask.
“Almost,” he says with a smile. “I love that you’re so keen to get back to work. Mind you, if Yvonne was glaring at me the way she keeps glaring at you, I’d be in a rush to get away too.”
I gasp slightly as he draws attention to the fact that Yvonne is still giving me the death glare.
She turns the glare to him, but then she blushes slightly and when she looks back away from Mr. Connell, she looks down into her lap rather than back at me.
I clear my throat, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that’s fallen over the room.
“There’s just the dinner party to arrange,” Mr. Connell says.
I panic for a second. He expects me to throw a dinner party? I’m pretty sure that’s way above my pay grade.
He must see my expression because he gives a soft laugh. “Relax Opal. It’s a party, not a death sentence. It’s tomorrow night. William Harley is throwing it. Remember?”
I nod, instantly knowing what he’s talking about. He doesn’t expect me to throw a dinner party. He’s referring to the one being thrown by William Hardy, a long term client. Mr. Connell has been invited to the dinner party. “I remember,” I say. “I’ll call him and let him know you won’t be able to make it as soon as I get back to the office.”
“Tell him Brett will be attending in my place,” Mr. Connell says.
Brett raises an eyebrow in his direction.
“It’s not optional Brett. There will be some big players there and it’s a good way to get some new contracts. Opal, you will be attending as Brett’s plus one to make sure he speaks to the right people about the right things,” Mr. Connell says.
“I’m quite capable of working out for myself who I want to speak to,” Brett states quietly.
“I’m sure you are,” Mr. Connell agrees. “But I have a few leads I’ve been warming up over the last few months and Opal knows who is who and what’s been said. It’s not just idle mingling Brett.”
“Whatever,” Brett says.
“Opal?” Mr. Connell says.
I nod mutely, suddenly afraid my voice won’t come out, even if I try to speak. I don’t know whether I’m excited or nervous to learn that I’ll be spending an evening with the mysterious Brett at an actual party.
It’s just work, I remind myself, but it’s like my body doesn’t quite get the memo my brain is sending it, because it’s all I can do not to punch the air in excitement.
3
I am so nervous that my hand is shaking when I bring it up to my face to apply my lip gloss. I grab my wrist with my other hand to steady it and brush the gloss onto my lips. I smile in approval when I manage to get it on without smearing it around my face or getting it on my teeth.
Glancing at the clock as I cross the apartment, I see I have about half an hour before I’m due to be picked up. My makeup is on and my hair is done. I’m wearing my hair half up and half down, the top half twisted and pinned in place, with small tendrils hanging around my face. I slip into my room and move to my wardrobe where I stand staring at the clothes there, trying to decide what to wear.
The event is black tie and I want to look the part. I want Brett to see me outside of work, in something other than pencil skirts and trouser suits. I want him to see me and think wow. I also want to look the part so I don’t let Mr. Connell down. He has a very strict policy of impressing clients,
