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      The atmosphere on the shop floor is feverish. Every time a customer emerges through the revolving doors there’s practically a stampede to get to them first. We’re all desperate to grab the sales, although I’ve noticed Tom doesn’t join in the melee. Instead he spends most of the time talking in a hushed voice into the phone behind his counter, schmoozing brand managers for personal shopper leads, no doubt.

      It’s been a while since my night with James and, although we’ve bumped into each other a couple of times in the staff room, he’s been pretty distant with me, so I can’t help wondering if it was just a one-night stand after all. Maybe it’s too soon – he’s not even divorced yet – or maybe he wants to get back with Maxine instead. Or perhaps he’s just decided it’s totally inappropriate, given the work situation. I try to put it out of my mind, but then, almost as though the universe is listening, the phone behind my counter rings.

      ‘Georgina, we have a massive bunch of flowers here for you.’ My mood lifts as Betty gives me the news. Slamming the phone down, I rush to the switchboard room and pluck the card from the hand-tied arrangement of lipstick-pink roses. The message is cryptic.

      Until next time.

      Trust James to be so discreet. I hug the flowers to me, revelling in our secret, and the doubt in my mind instantly disappears.

      ‘So, who’s the admirer then?’ one of the guys from Menswear bellows the minute I arrive in the staff room. I ignore him and place the flowers in the sink.

      Eddie saunters over to me.

      ‘About time you got yourself a decent man,’ he sniffs, then leans into me and whispers, ‘Who is he?’ For a brief second I contemplate telling him. I know I can trust him, but I decide not to, wanting to keep it quiet for a while longer.

      ‘Oh, just some guy I met a few weeks ago.’ I try to sound laid back, hoping the uncertainty in my voice doesn’t let me down.

      ‘Well, he must be keen. Flowers like that don’t come cheap.’ Eddie shakes his head knowingly.

      ‘I know,’ I say, mulling the implications over.

      ‘God, is that the time?’ he puffs dramatically, looking up at the wall clock. ‘Catch you later, doll face. Madam has me running errands, got to collect something from HR.’ He pushes his bottom lip out and is just about to leave when he turns back. ‘Ooh, almost forgot, been meaning to tell you,’ he says, lowering his voice.

      ‘What is it?’

      ‘Guess who I saw getting very intimate yesterday?’ He steals a furtive look around the room.

      ‘Who?’ I say, immediately desperate to know.

      ‘Only our resident supermodels, Tom and the tapeworm host,’ he whispers, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘The beautiful people – actually snogging they were.’

      ‘Really?’ I ask, trying to sound indifferent, but I can’t help leaning in, ready for his response. It shouldn’t matter to me, but suddenly I find it does.

      ‘Yep, down the side of the store by the car park. I only got a glimpse as I was going past on the bus, but it looked very passionate; he had his back against a wall and she was practically licking his colon. Lucky cow, what I wouldn’t do for a bit of him.’ I ponder on the information for a moment. So, Maxine is playing me then. She must be backing Tom. ‘And that’s not all. I overheard her doing the phone sex thing on the BlackBerry again. All panty and flirty she was before realising her door was ajar. Never seen her move so fast when I popped my head around the door on purpose just to wind her up. Anyway, watch your back with them.’

      ‘Mmm. Will do, and thanks for the tip-off.’ I wonder if James knows about it. I make a mental note to ask him next time we’re alone. ‘Thanks for letting me know,’ I finish.

      I decide to try and avoid Tom from now on. I don’t see why I should put in all the hard work while he sits around whispering into the phone waiting for Maxine to sack me. It’s obviously her he’s chatting to. He may be drop-dead gorgeous with impeccable manners, but it’s not enough to overlook the fact he can’t be trusted. I feel disproportionately upset by how this makes me feel, but quickly push the thoughts away and try to concentrate on what Eddie is saying instead.

      ‘No problem, that’s what friends are for.’

      Eddie leaves and my mobile vibrates inside my pocket. Seeing it’s James, I duck out into the corridor for some privacy.

      ‘Just a quick call.’ His voice sounds distant, as if he’s in a tunnel.

      ‘You OK, you sound like you’ve fallen down a drain?’ I say, instantly wishing I’d thought of something slightly less prosaic to say.

      ‘Yes, I’m fine. I’m in the Gents upstairs – only place I could think of for some privacy. Just about to go in to my weekly meeting with Maxine.’ His voice sounds rushed.

      ‘Oh, good luck.’

      ‘Thanks. How are you getting on with her?’ he asks, sounding genuinely interested, as though he has all the time in the world for me.

      ‘Honestly. I’m not sure,’ I say, wondering whether I should elaborate, but probably best to wait until he isn’t in such a rush.

      ‘Yeah, she can be a bit like that.’ I smart momentarily at the familiarity in his voice. ‘Anyway, I was just calling to see if you fancy dinner on Saturday. I could pick you up around eightish?’

      ‘Yes, I’d love to.’

      ‘Great. Let’s catch up properly then.’ And before I have a chance to thank him for the flowers, there’s a click and I realise he’s ended the call.

      *

      Lunchtime in the canteen, and everyone’s talking about the team-building event. It’s in Brighton and we have to arrive the night before to be certain of an early start, which makes it a whole lot more exciting seeing as James will be there too. And we’re staying overnight in a hotel. It was going to be a B&B but Sam said Caroline from the salon told her she’d overheard Camille on the phone putting her Gucci-clad foot down and insisting on doing things properly, and that Carrington’s may be facing a decline but a reputation for providing quality must still be maintained.

      Melissa, our sturdy plain-clothes store detective, appears to have taken on the role of events organiser and is asking everyone for a bust size. She’s come up with some whacky idea of renting a room at Lucky Voice for a karaoke session on the Saturday night and making it into a bit of a stag do for Ciaran. Any excuse for a bit of debauchery, especially since she found out Tina won’t be there to spoil the fun for everyone. Melissa’s cousin owns a printing shop and has even offered to make up special T-shirts for us all.

      ‘Georgie … just in time. What bust size shall I get you. Extra tight?’ She casts a roving eye at my chest. Instinctively I cross my arms.

      ‘In your dreams. I’ll be wearing my own clothes,’ I retaliate, and the others all laugh. Melissa then turns her attentions on Arnie, a warehouse guy from Sweden.

      ‘Arnie,’ Melissa starts, full of exaggerated bonhomie, ‘let me guess … 6XL for you?’

      ‘Aren’t you getting me confused with the size of your head?’ he retorts.

      I relax into the atmosphere, which feels just like it used to be before Maxine turned up. We’re all laughing – everybody that is, except Tom. He’s still whispering into his phone. He looks up and around at us all and then carries on talking. I feel uncomfortable. Maybe he’s spying for Maxine.

      I glance up just in time to see Tina standing by the soup urn. She has a strange expression on her face and is busy scribbling something down in a red notebook. I wonder how long she’s been standing there, and my paranoia increases. She might also be spying for Maxine! Nothing would surprise me any more. I shiver with unease.

      21

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