Falling for my fake boyfriend

11 - Office gossip

I took my lunch break well into the afternoon, but the test ran late and Pradeep even showed up with donuts before we started. I’m not sure if they were for us, the apprentices, or to calm her raging temper if the damn thing we were testing failed again.

It’s been a few hours since my conversation with Jessie, and while standing at a small table in the coffee shop by myself, with my phone opened to my personal email and my laptop opened to my work one, I get the distinct feeling of being watched.

Looking up I notice Marta, another apprentice but in a different department. In Carrie’s. I send her a small smile, but not the kind that will make her think I’m inviting her to join me. Marta and Carrie aren’t seeing eye to eye, and I had the displeasure of pretending to understand the argument every time Carrie would come home complaining about her colleague. So I have to be loyal to my roommate.

Apparently it’s in the roommate agreement that Carrie believes we should sign in blood.

The staring continues even after I bury myself back in the electronic devices sprawled in front of me. Frankly, I’ve been staring at the same email on both devices since I arrived. My coffee is untouched and my sandwich is still in my bag.

I glance at the time as I can still feel Marta’s eyes boring into my skull. Honestly, that’s more attention that the woman has ever shown me, so it kind of creeps me out.

When it got borderline ridiculous, I lifted my eyes from my laptop and made it a point to look at Marta and wave at her. Consequences with Carrie be damned. But surprisingly, Marta flushed, gripping her coffee so tight that I feared the paper cup would give and hot liquid would spew on her. Moving like someone that was caught red handed, Marta quickly situated herself at a small table on the opposite side of the coffee shop.

Right, that wasn’t weird at all. I mutter under my breath as I go back to rereading the same email for the seventieth time.

From: Alistair-Craster@landrover.co.uk

To: Lily-Parker@gmail.com

Cc: Lily.Parker@Vauxhall.co.uk

Subject: Re: Re: Wiper system re engineering

Dear Lily,

Great news!

I’m coming to London on a professional capacity sometime next week. If you get a minute I’m happy to meet and chat.

Best regards,

Alistair Craster

Head of Engineering

Jaguar and Land Rover

After a long debate I decided to reply from the computer, using my work email address, hoping that it will make me at least a little more professional and like I know what I’m doing.

From: Lily.Parker@Vauxhall.co.uk

To: Alistair-Craster@landrover.co.uk

Subject: Re: Re: Wiper system re engineering

Mr Craster,

Thank you for your response and interest.

Meeting in person would be fantastic. What day will you be at Vauxhall?

Let me know when it’s most convenient for you to meet.

Sincerely,

Lily

I cringe a little at the not so subtle desperation in my words, but hit send before I can change my mind.

Not even five minutes later, Cindy, another trainee that works in the project for the side mirrors, comes in and takes a seat next to Marta.

They immediately start whispering to each other and pointing at… me. Any other day I would have been concerned and maybe a little upset, trying to inconspicuously wipe my face in case I had any residual foam from my coffee around my mouth. But not now, because now it looks like the angels are singing my name.

Tearing my eyes away from the two women, I look at my screen where Mr Craster had already answered my email, which is astonishing and obviously takes priority over anything else, really.

I could be sporting a full milk froth moustache and I couldn’t care less. Huge pimple right smack in between my eyebrows, ready to burst? Been there, lived through that!

From: Alistair-Craster@landrover.co.uk

To: Lily.Parker@Vauxhall.co.uk

Subject: Re: Re: Wiper system re engineering

Dear Lily,

It’s not confirmed yet, but I’m part of a cross company project and will be at Vauxhall for a few days to meet with a fellow colleague.

Can we sort out a meeting once I’m there?

Best regards,

Alistair Craster

Head of Engineering

Jaguar and Land Rover

Looking at the screen in disbelief, I can’t believe that means I actually have a few days to convince Craster of my project. This is so much better than the few minutes I originally thought the man was willing to give me for my pitch.

Without thinking about it, I let out a victorious Yes!, topping it off with a mid air fist bump.

My little display of joy makes Marta and her friend stare at me even more weirdly. I mean, what is their problem?

But you know what? Who cares about Marta and her creepy gazing club when I’m about to meet with Alistair Craster and explain to him my idea in great detail? Confidence like I’ve never felt before surges through my veins as I tell myself I got this. I’m going to convince Alistair Craster that my idea is worth pursuing and put into further testing. And maybe in a few years, all cars will be equipped with my wipers system.

I rode the wave of my excitement long, and I was in an excellent mood until a couple of hours after hearing from Mr Craster.

The last thing on my schedule today is the cross department meeting, something that I’m dreading because it’s notorious for putting me to sleep. Who even thought it would be a great Idea to wave this on a Tuesday afternoon? It’s obvious that everyone will be tired, cranky and counting down the minutes until the clock hits 5 PM so we can escape. It goes without saying that on days like this, 5 PM often turns into 6.

I enter the huge auditorium like room and a sudden silence descends. I swear you can hear a mosquito fart if you listen carefully. I freeze for a split second when I notice about fifteen pairs of eyes, all fixated on me. And no, this is not something that usually happens, hence my apprehension. For a moment there, I thought I’m in the wrong place, or at the wrong time. All sorts of panicked thoughts make an appearance in my brain, until a more familiar voice addresses me.

“Hey.”

I turn around and see one of the guys in my team. I smile politely and continue into the room, greeting those that I know and work closely with. A couple of people said hi back, which relaxes me a little, but most of them avert their gazes.

I keep chanting in my head that I’m being paranoid and surely just imagining things. Must be low blood sugar. Or high. One of the two, either way. Either way I had too much coffee and my sandwich at lunch remained uneaten.

“Hi Lily.” A plump woman with an extremely obvious wig, who I have never even seen before, moves her bright orange handbag and pats the seat next to her. Thinking quickly that I shouldn’t be rude and continue my trek towards the empty seat I spotted far from the one offered, I remember the sudden attention that everyone seems to give me, so I smile and reluctantly sit down where indicated.

Meetings like this don’t typically involve the marketing department, they are more for those of us involved in technical and design, but I still sent a quick little prayer that Jessie will stroll in any minute and I have an excuse to go sit next to her.

“How are you?”

“Good.” I sit down gingerly, trying to keep the suspicion from my tone. “Um, you?” I follow up because it becomes painfully clear from the way she stares at me, that she was expecting that question.

“Great.” She chirps, but there was something about her wide smile. It looks forced, and screams fake from a mile away. I was genuinely considering asking her if she's really alright, when the Head of the Body Design team cleared his voice, signalling the meeting is about to start.

The snooze fest finished with me thanking the universe for the fact that the attention was off me for a while. Unfortunately, as soon as everyone was dismissed, things became even weirder.

Walking like a zombie to my desk, ready to end this day and wondering why is it only Tuesday when it feels like Friday already, I noticed Pradeep loitering. Surprised to see her here, I approach a little apprehensive.

My boss is not usually an awkward woman, but now she’s acting strange, avoiding eye contact which freaks me out. But the most unexpected thing is when she asks me if there is anything I would like to talk about. I answered no, maybe drawing out the o a little too long, but as I watched her smile and walk away, letting me know that the offer stands and that she’s here if I need to talk to someone, I’m left wondering if maybe that was the wrong thing to answer. Or maybe she should retire sooner than she originally planned.

I get my things still wondering what is going on, and if I maybe entered the twilight zone or something.

Graham, an overly competitive and mean guy with a severe Napoleon complex, astonishes me by moving to the side and allowing me to enter the almost full elevator. Needless to say, Graham has at least 10, or maybe more, minutes to wait for the elevator if he missed this one. I know from experience how busy these metal coffins get at rush hour.

Inside the lift, things get ever stranger. Every single person nods at me, making my cheeks burn bright red, and on my way out I get wished a pleasant evening by one of the department heads, who even allows me to exit the building first.

It’s not until I reach home and almost smack into Carrie as soon as I open the door, that everything starts to make sense.

“You sneaky little bitch.” She hisses in an affectionate and proud way. Her black eyes are narrowed to slits, but with the corners of her mouth turned upwards, her expression confuses me.

“Uhm, hi to you too.” I warily drop my keys and my bike helmet on the side table by the door, and try to advance further into the apartment.

“I have been texting you all day.” She scolds me.

“Oh, you have?” I take the phone out of my bag and notice that I have absolutely 0 missed calls or texts. Frowning at the device I hold it up to Carrie who snatches it out of my hand before I can say anything to defend myself.

“It’s on aeroplane mode, you airhead.” She points it at. I smile like I’ve just been caught with my apw in the cookie jar, and remember how I wanted nothing to disturb me when I was freading Craster’s email earlier in the day. With the quick reply from his end, I was so excited that the last thing on my mind was to turn my phone back on.

“Sorry, I got distracted. Did something happen?” I ask, wondering why she didn’t bother to come looking for me if there was something urgent.

“I can’t believe you.”

“What happened?” I search for the sofa, planning to sit down, but Carrie keeps following me closer like she’s my shadow.

“I can’t believe this.” She shakes her head, the grin on her lips scaring the s**t out of me.

“Carrie, I have no idea what you’re on about.”

“I genuinely thought we were friends.” She snaps.

“Uhm, we are.” I gulp.

“Good friends.” She punctuates.

“Of course we are. You and Jessie are my best friends.” I plead my case, still unsure what the accusations are.

“Well clearly that’s bollocks if I had to hear it from Suraj, who heard it from a guy at Pixelist, who heard it from Brandon, who obviously heard it from Jessie…” She trails on, counting on her fingers all the people that supposedly know something about me.

“What did you hear?” I try to ask, but Carrie’s still not done.

“... who heard it from I don’t even know who. And here I was thinking we were friends.” She spits the words and I suddenly feel like my blood turns ice cold and drains from my face. With a shaky voice, I ask Carrie again.

“Hear what?”

“You know what? I’m done. I can’t believe you would do this. That’s it, I’m revoking the roommate agreement.” Oh no.

“Carrie. What exactly did you hear?” I nearly shout at her.

“That you are dating Adam Davies.” She glares at me like she found out I’m a gold digger dating her older brother. Which is neither real nor rich, but you get the sentiment.

Fuck. My. Life.