Chapter 5
A weekend of heavy drinking ended. Monday rolled into Tuesday, then Wednesday. Each day Sophie felt light-headed from lack of sleep. Dreams of Derek continued, but there was one significant change, a humiliating reminder. In her dreams Derek was accompanied by the gorgeous Georgina.
Each morning a fresh surge of hope fuelled her. Her daily arrival at work would involve Sophie bolting through the office corridor with the red splattering motifs (Sophie thought they looked like psychiatrist’s ink blots) and past the kitchen. Her desk was near the ‘think tank’ of ideas: a whiteboard covered with coloured flash cards. She collapsed in her chair and opened her email. All week, there had been nothing from Derek.
This morning, again, her inbox was empty.
She was still expecting to have Georgina explained so that it all made sense. Maybe he’d just met her and hadn’t actually cheated….
Today, it was hump day, Wednesday, and Jessica was the next to arrive in the office. She was a capable woman, not only was she Bradley Clark’s personal assistant, but had stepped up as the group secretary for no extra pay, being in the midst of a recession and all. Jessica was in her mid-twenties, and had recently started studying full time at London Metropolitan University. Although she was now a mature student, she was sharp as a knife, with intelligent, warm, brown eyes.
Jessica’s enthusiasm reminded Sophie of herself when she had started at Clarks. She often assaulted Sophie with technical questions, asking for loads of help with her assignments to complete her degree. Usually Sophie didn’t mind.
Today the student in Jessica was satisfied. Instead she was eager to impress and she started her own pitch.
“I’m an advertising student and I could help you out.”
Sophie nodded. “I have a client meeting in about an hour which I’ve got to prepare for. But after that, I promise to consider it.” She’d heard Jessica’s words before.
“I can help you free up time,” Jessica reiterated.
Jessica desperately wanted experience on campaigns. But Sophie would have to teach her, and time was important. Sophie was having a tough enough job holding onto her own career. “And Sophie you need my help so you can find some work-life balance. You need to find some time for that man of yours.”
“I’m single now.”
“Oh, sorry,” Jessica said and hurried back to her desk. Jessica was the group secretary and her desk sat outside Bradley’s doorway, with a view of the rest of the office. She began making personal phone calls and babbled like she usually did, which would continue throughout the day. Even over the sound of the whirring printer, Sophie could hear Jessica chatting idly. “Francine, you’ll never guess what she wore to the wedding….” Jessica was anything but discreet, her voice loud and strident.
A mailman arrived and stood at Jessica’s desk, stacking packages like Santa Claus would under a tree. Jessica signed for the special deliveries and team post. She then flicked through the parcels, shaking envelopes and packages for simple amusement. Jessica swept her gaze over Sophie, in slow motion, shaking a large, rectangular-shaped box.
Bradley’s door burst open.
Jessica dropped the receiver in her hand and catapulted from her chair, a stack of papers in her arms as the rest of the office snapped into life with dramatic energy like actors performing on stage. Everyone was all too aware of Bradley and his dominating presence.
Staff shouted across the office with great intensity. A girl burst into tears about something.
Bradley scanned the floor and scowled. He was undeniably handsome; a little too handsome for his own good. His combination of super good looks, charm, and the fact he was the boss, ensured he wasn’t the easiest person to work with. He was incredibly moody, with a temper much like a grizzly bear.
He then leaned over Jessica and her mountain of papers. He signed a document and then looked up; his broody gaze settling on Sophie.
Their eyes locked before he barked a general order. “Progress meeting. Every manager to the boardroom, in five.” Everyone stopped what they were doing and the managers exchanged glances.
Bradley stalked down the corridor toward the boardroom. Sophie shot off like an arrow, following Bradley, her heart pounded rapidly. “Excuse me Bradley?” she called out.
Bradley tossed a look over his shoulder. He stopped in the corridor, pausing for Sophie to catch up.
“How are you?” he growled.
“I’m well,” she countered. “I need to talk to you about the Silver account.”
“That can wait. Silver is small billing. I saw you at the gala night deep in conversation with Tom Johnson from Barney’s Chocolate Bars.” He tilted his head. “Did you make any progress with signing him up?”
“Tom Johnson and I get along spectacularly.”
“I’m hoping to see big things from you on that account.” Bradley swept into the boardroom with Sophie close behind, struggling to get her question in. He settled himself at the head of the almond shaped, conference table. He brushed down his suit jacket. Finding her composure, Sophie trailed after him and gave up on explaining that Matthew Silver had found out she couldn’t swim. She slid into one of the ten chairs set up for the management meeting.
Desmond from the Art Department arrived next and settled into a chair opposite her. He was a little overweight, wore crisp suits and always managed to look suave. Sophie concealed her surprise by closing her gaping mouth. Desmond was notoriously unreliable and for him to even attend a last-minute management discussion was almost unheard of. When he regarded her with his intelligent eyes, Sophie glimpsed the genius which must have secured his position at Clarks in the first place. She wished she could access his talent more often. If only he was more dependable, then more campaigns could tap into his ideas. In her position as a project manager, Sophie invariably found herself micromanaging Desmond to ensure he stuck to budgets, or bothered to show up to meetings she’d set. It was like a game of cat and mouse with Desmond, but with persistence she generally tracked him down.
Desmond beamed. “I’ve got artwork for you to look at when you get a chance.” Desmond tipped forward in his chair and his gaze dropped to her cleavage.
“You’re a star, Desmond. What would I do without you?” The trick with Desmond was to bolster his artistic ego. “Remember, the casting’s next week.”
Desmond practically licked his lips. “Yeah, I’ll find the right model, um I mean actress.” Desmond was a ladies’ man and tried to have it off with every girl in the office, as well as the girls he auditioned. It was not a problem for Sophie, as he generally left her alone. At casting calls Desmond busied himself collecting phone numbers for his own personal use rather than doing anything productive. Sophie would be left deserted, saddled with the burden of finding the right model or actress while he disappeared.
A few other advertising colleagues entered the boardroom, until the table was half full. Bradley rapped the long wooden table. “Morning.” His smile skimmed the room, lingering on each person’s face. His acknowledgement created a Mexican wave effect where each person lit up under his gaze, hoping he’d throw a scrap of appreciation in their direction.
Sophie tore her eyes from Bradley and inspected the empty seats in the boardroom. “Where’s everyone else?” she asked brightly.
“We’re a small firm, Sophie,” Bradley grunted. A deep line etched itself into Bradley’s forehead. “Where’s Jessica?” he barked as he examined the vacant chair beside him.
A low snigger came from the doorway as a new comer arrived. Kelly. “I think Jessica’s finding gossiping on the phone much more exciting than a management meeting.” A smug smile transformed Kelly’s face. She met Sophie’s gaze and winked before entering and closing the door behind her.
Everyone averted their gaze, looking down at the table as Kelly found her place. An odd silence circled the room, as each person pondered the truth of Kelly’s remark. Jessica’s constant chatter on the phone hadn??
?t gone unnoticed. Sophie needed to warn Jessica; it was becoming a problem.
“Let’s start,” Bradley said.
“Where is everyone else?” Sophie repeated her query, head darting around the half empty board room, scrutinising the faces.
Bradley adjusted his tie, then rubbed his hands together. “As you all know, Clarks is a small firm. Although we have a presence in New York and London, I like to call us a boutique operation with all hands on deck. There have been a few changes recently, and the purpose of this meeting is to remind you all that we’re in a recession.”
Sophie nodded, feeling suddenly wary of where this conversation was going.
Bradley continued. “Some of you have probably heard about Joey Symonds, Katie Stevens and Julia Brown all being made redundant last night. I took them all to The Dorchester. We celebrated their successes and their time with the firm.”
Sophie recalled a comment whispered by Desmond when she’d first started. “The Dorchester is the place Bradley takes people to celebrate or commiserate,” Desmond had revealed. “If he ever asks you to lunch, be very wary.”
Sophie paled. She now knew why everyone was so zesty this morning. Sophie hadn’t heard about the redundancies, she’d been too busy worrying about her pending swimming lesson and her breakup with Derek.
“A recession doesn’t stop at a few redundancies.” Bradley sprang out of his chair and paced around at the end of the table. Silence filtered around the room. “We’ve come on hard times. This isn’t meant to scare you, but I'm going to task each and every one of you with business development. We need to win new work. I’ll be looking at all the teams, trimming the fat.”
Not knowing what else to do, Sophie scribbled on her notepad, shivering at the words, ‘trimming the fat’. After the financial crisis had hit the capital, the country and the world almost overnight, there were many companies in London ‘restructuring’.
“You’ve probably already heard rumours from other advertising agencies. Whole floors of staff are being given redundancy packages. A solid business development strategy will help us keep ahead of the pack, but we need to start now.”
The door burst open and Jessica stood there. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she announced. “Sophie, I know you have a meeting next so I brought this along with me. You’ve got a package.” She jiggled a box in her hands.
“Jessica, this is a management meeting,” Bradley barked. “You’re not the postman nor are you Sophie’s personal secretary.”
“I know everyone’s really busy.” Jessica’s cheeks flamed. “I’m just trying to help the team out. It could be important, it’s mighty big.”
Bradley shot Sophie an accusatory look. “You all know my policy on internet shopping,” he scowled.
Jessica looked down at the package and then at Sophie. Jessica mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
“I haven’t bought anything,” Sophie insisted.
“Well there’s something here. So you must have bought something,” Kelly chided.
Sophie scuttled round the table to scrutinize the package. She scanned it for clues. The postmark, United Kingdom, didn’t give her anything. The package was addressed in unfamiliar blue handwriting. She reached out to test the weight of the package, but Bradley slapped her hand like a parent scolding a child, and Sophie reared back.
“From now on, all mail, including packages, will be opened by Jessica and recorded in a list for me. That should prevent people internet shopping while at work and hogging our mail room resources. This is a business not a post office.”
“Fine. But I didn’t buy anything.” Sophie picked up the package and tried to change the subject. “I have no idea what it could be.”
“Bradley, should I open it up so I can record it?” Jessica asked and her lip trembled as she stifled a grin.
“We really should use Sophie as an example,” Kelly insisted.
“Bradley, that’s hardly fair. The package is marked personal,” Sophie stated. “Your spur of the moment policy is a complete invasion of my privacy.”
“Well if you didn’t buy anything, then why are you so worried?” Bradley insisted.
“It’s probably from a client,” Sophie replied. “But that’s not the point.”
“Maybe Sophie has some type of fetish we don’t know about? Is it something exciting, X-rated, like edible underwear?” Kelly laughed.
Sophie sighed. “Go on, if you’re so eager to make an example of me, open it.”
Jessica’s hands worked nimbly, like she was an expert in knitting, fingers flying, slashing open the package. Jessica pushed the flaps of the box down, peered inside. “Oh.”
Kelly shot over to Jessica’s side. “Oh my, God.”
“What? What is it?” Sophie asked.
“You totally need this,” Kelly howled. “We all know you’re newly single.”
“What?” Sophie begged. “What is it?”
“A vibrator,” Kelly giggled, her voice carried loudly to each corner of the room, and probably broke ice out in the Arctic as well.
Sophie cringed. “Give me that.” She reached over the table and snatched the cardboard box. There was an item, wrapped in tissue paper, long, flat, rectangular, but the shape of a chopping board. Clearly not a vibrator. She picked it up, feeling the weight. Very light. She hurriedly peeled back the tissue paper, her curiosity mounting. She extracted a yellow, plastic kickboard.
Sophie held the kickboard with shaking hands, watching as Jessica extracted more items.
“A bathing cap?” Kelly asked incredulously. Kelly snatched the items from Jessica, holding them held by the tips of her fingers, displaying them like dirty laundry, for the entire room to see. “Goggles? Really, Sophie? What’s all this for?”
Jessica darted a glance toward Bradley. “What did you want me to write in the mail register?”
Bradley’s face was quite blank. “Describe it as Sophie’s internet purchases.”
“It’s not,” Sophie exclaimed. “I…err… I have a swimming lesson booked for the Silver account. The client obviously sent this stuff.”
“Swimming lesson?” Kelly glowered. “You have time to take swimming lessons while we're all run off our feet? Bradley, aren’t you trimming the fat?”
Sophie’s cheeks became hot. “The Silver account has potential as you all know. We only have a slither of the company – the swimming pool chain, the smallest part of the group,” she replied.
“Yes, yes,” Bradley interrupted. “Is that what the swimming lessons are all about, living and breathing your work?”
“Um…sort of…I had a swimming trauma when I was five and Matthew Silver believes I should get in the pool and learn to swim.”
“The client found out you can’t swim! Jesus!” Bradley’s eyes glinted. “What a royal fuck up, Sophie. You’re lucky the firm didn’t get fired.”
“I’m getting in the water,” she retorted. “It will be hard that’s all…it’s a phobia which has impacted my whole life. I’ve struggled…struggled for quite some time. It’s quite difficult for me to even talk about because… I actually died in a pool.”
Silence descended on the room and Bradley shot up from his chair and paced. “‘Swimming is for Living’ – your motto remember?” He shook his head violently. “How come you didn’t volunteer to learn earlier? Worse, you let him find out.”
“I wanted to bring this up with you privately. I thought it would help us win more work because I’d be in the pool with Matthew at least once per week. There’s the possibility of gaining more advertising projects from Matthew, like the hotel chain.”
“Bloody hell, Sophie, maybe it’s best if we took you off the account.”
“I’m happy to get in the pool.” Kelly practically jumped out of her seat. “I can sort of swim. I’d love to improve, to learn properly.”
Bradley scowled. “You can’t swim either? Incredible. Did we touch anyone with that advertising campaign? Do I have no suitabl
e employee to work on the Silver account?”
“Matthew understands,” Sophie blurted. “Is it so fascinating that I can’t swim?”
“Our firm did a ‘Swimming is for Living’ campaign,” Bradley growled. “Didn’t you both learn anything?”
“Apparently about thirty percent of British adults can’t swim,” Kelly quoted. “I learnt that from the campaign. And I can swim. Sort of. Sophie can’t do anything. She’s got a phobia.” The way Kelly said phobia, it was like she’d said a dirty word.
“Well Kelly, maybe you’re a more suitable fit. I’d have to have an emergency meeting with Matthew,” Bradley started.
“I’ve worked it out with Matthew. He’s happy with what I do. He’s expecting me to turn up. You can see that he’s sent me this swimming gear.” Sophie exhaled, controlling her anger. “I’m taking the bloody lessons and it will help develop the relationship and a new business development opportunity – end of story.” She glared at Bradley, struggling to stay in the seat rather than jump up, throw the account at Kelly and run from the boardroom.
“So you’ll impress me.” Bradley smiled. “You’ll make me think you’re worth not being on the firing squad list.”
Sophie froze, that wasn’t even funny. Firing squad list. Firing squad list. Firing squad list? What did that mean? “I’ll certainly try.”
“You’d better do more than try.”