CHAPTER TEN
“Only joking,” the voice continued. “Vince what are you doing in there? I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Did you forget you were meant to meet me this morning before work?”
Holly, who had been holding her breath, let it out in a relieved gasp as she looked up to where Amy Jenkins, the company Goth chick, was standing in the doorway with a scary smile plastered onto her darkened lips.
As usual she was dressed in a long black skirt, a pair of spiky boots and a ruffled Victorian governess shirt. Holly groaned. Why had she forgotten that wherever Vince Murphy was, Amy Jenkins wasn’t far behind?
No wonder Vince was such a geek if he hung out with people like Amy. And a word of advice to the girl: If she ever wanted to rise out of the secretarial pool, then she should lose the long black hair and matching nail polish. Oh, and the attitude.
Holly edged away from the bag and tried to resist the temptation to glance into it. So close yet so far away. Still, she supposed it could’ve been worse. It could’ve been Rochelle standing in front of her. But on the other hand, Amy Jenkins. Urgh.
Vince still didn’t speak and Amy started to pick imaginary bits of stuff off Vince’s shirt. Holly barely resisted the urge to shudder.
“Earth to Vince.” Amy giggled. “Come in, Vince.”
Holly rolled her eyes. Vince was so going to get it later. She took a deep breath as she edged them both back toward the door. “Amy, hey.”
“Hey, yourself. So who were you talking to just then? I couldn’t believe it when I heard your voice coming from this office. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
Note to self. Must only speak to Vince in head, not out loud.
“Oh, no one.” Holly tried to grunt in a Vince-like manner. When faced with someone she didn’t want to speak to, it was surprisingly easy to replicate.
“So what are you doing here?”
Hmmm. That’s a good question. “I was just dropping some…er…printer paper off for Rochelle, but she’s not here.”
Printer paper. Good one Holly, especially since there was no printer paper to be seen. She held her breath to see if Amy bought it, but the girl in front of her didn’t seem interested in anything other than running her long nails over Vince’s arm.
Holly took the opportunity to dart out of the door and into the hallway just in case Rochelle returned. Amy was only one step behind.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You were acting weird yesterday when we were in the church and then when I went to find you in the cemetery, you were gone.”
Holly blinked for a minute before realizing Amy must’ve been at her funeral as well. Next time she died she was definitely going to request it was a private service, because quite frankly, it seemed like it had turned into a bit of a free-for-all.
“Well? Are you okay?” Amy pushed back a long strand of hair and touched Holly’s cheek.
This was getting worse, and she was sorely tempted to just tell the girl to get lost then and there. Especially since Vince was so determined to get back to his meeting, which meant Holly only had a couple more minutes to search in the bag.
Where was Vince, anyway? But despite giving him what could only be described as a mental scream, there was no sign of him and Holly realized it was either covering for Vince or searching the Chloe bag.
She reluctantly answered, “Oh yeah. I’m fine. I just felt a bit…you know…like I needed some fresh air, so I decided to bail and go for a walk…”
Amy was looking at her strangely. “Why are you speaking so weirdly?”
Duh. That would be because Vince had gone AWOL somewhere in his own body and has left a dead girl to do the talking for him. What other reason could there possibly be? “Sorry, I guess the funeral threw me a bit,” she said instead.
A tight expression made its way across Amy’s mouth. “Yeah, well if you ask me it was pathetic, I mean all those people pretending Holly Evans was their best friend, and really they didn’t give a shit.”
“Like who?” Holly demanded before remembering she was meant to be Vince. “Not that I care of course.” But names and phones numbers on a postcard, please.
“Oh, you know.” Amy gave a vague wave of her hand. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about the funeral anymore. I want to get back to the conversation we were having yesterday.”
“You do?” Holly gulped.
“That’s right,” Amy purred as she ran a long finger up Holly’s arm. “It’s not fair to tease a girl.”
“No,” Holly agreed with a croak as she tried to pull her arm away. “That wouldn’t be very nice at all.” And excuse me but did she always carry on like this in the work place? Because even though Holly and Todd had been dating for a year and were almost engaged, they were very careful to keep the flirting out of the office. As Todd had often said, there had been too many promising careers ruined by a bit of hanky-panky and a tape of hidden-camera footage.
“Why don’t you meet me tonight after my evening shift and we can talk about it properly?”
“Shift?”
“God, Vince, you’re so hopeless. Remember I started doing a couple of nights a week at The Fix? Just to pay some extra bills.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s right.” Holly nodded her head as she suddenly recalled that Amy occasionally worked in the cafe down by the river. First time she had seen her there it had totally put Holly off her espresso and biscotti.
“So come in about nine, yeah.”
“Whatever.” Holly gave a Vince-like shrug of her shoulders.
“Cool.” Amy seemed absurdly pleased and started to lean in towards her.
Whoa, if Holly didn’t know better she would say that Amy was heading directly for her lips. Actually they were Vince Murphy’s lips, but the problem being somehow Holly was connected to them and she would rather sit in Level One for the next zillion years than have to kiss Amy Jenkins.
Besides, not that Holly was a big Vince fan, but honestly there was nothing wrong with the guy that a few manners and a dose of Man Tan wouldn’t fix. But Amy was a tart with a rough mouth and split ends. He could do much better than her.
Not Holly had any intention of telling him that, of course. In fact it would serve him right if she did let Amy kiss her. Perhaps he was shy around girls? Well if so, it probably didn’t matter since Amy appeared to have enough forwardness for the pair them. How could he like her?
Now she could feel Amy’s breath hot against her chin and Holly was just trying to decide whether to throw up or faint when the coughing sound came from behind them and Amy jumped away from her like a demagnetized piece of steel.
“Any reason why you’re not down doing the invoices for Mr. Jones?” A woman, who appeared to be Amy Jenkins’ supervisor, was staring down at them through an intimidating pair of bifocals. Thank goodness for that. Holly felt like she should be applauding (or perhaps groveling at the woman’s feet in gratitude) for her timely interruption and her stern discipline. Anyway, it had the desired effect and Amy went scuttling back to wherever Mr. Jones’ invoices were, faster than Holly could say “ten years of therapy.”
Okay, so that was way too close and Holly shuddered as soon as the supervisor had gone.
