‘Not to mention what happened to you with your own wedding.’ Kelli winced.
‘Yeah, that too, I guess.’ I absent-mindedly picked at my nail. It had felt like it had been constant wedding chatter since Shelley had sent out her ‘save the date’ cards.
‘Seriously though, a shaman?!’ Kelli struggled to hold herself together; even the receptionist kept looking over to see what was so funny. ‘A shaman! Oh, I’ve heard it all now!’ she said through chokes of laughter.
‘Don’t, it’s not a joke!’ I flashed the receptionist a nothing-to-see-here-type smile.
‘Sorry. Okay, game face on.’ She tried to straighten her mouth and wafted her hands at her eyes to compose herself. ‘God, you poor thing, going all that way down under to spend time with this marital monster. Tell her from me she needs to get a grip. It doesn’t sound like it’s going to be much of a holiday for you and Ben.’
I was about to say that I’d given up trying to remind Shelley that it was for one day, ONE DAY, and instead was making sure not to tip her over the edge when she was so fraught with nerves and constantly consumed by stress. I also secretly hoped that once I got over there she would be a lot calmer and on top of things, but I was pulled from sticking up for her as we were beckoned over to head into the lions’ den.
‘Miss Green? They’re ready to see you now.’
Here goes.
*
We’re nailing this. It literally could not be going any better. They’re eating out of our hands, loving what we have to offer, and quite rightly so.
‘So, ladies and gentlemen, if you turn to page fifteen in your packs, you will see our year-on-year growth, which I’m sure you’ll agree is pretty impressive in this current market.’ I beamed proudly at the corporate faces spread around the mahogany desk in front of me as a rustle of papers filled the pine-scented room.
The past twenty minutes had flown by in what felt like a whirl of PowerPoint presentations, marketing stats and business buzzwords. Kelli had given a breakdown of our figures and projected financial targets, all of which had been met with subtle eyebrow raises and the slightest of smiles.
I confidently stepped forward, enjoying the spotlight and opportunity to talk about how unique my business was.
‘I wanted to tell you a little about how Lonely Hearts Travels came about. I only discovered the joy that comes from booking a flight and jetting off after I was jilted, and found the courage to turn my devastating break-up into a whole new life, thanks to the opportunities that travel gave me.’ I paused for effect. ‘I now get to work with broken-hearted singles who, just like I was, are looking to find themselves by changing their scene and embracing a sense of adventure. After being dumped it can be all too easy to sit back and feel like the weight of the world is against you, that your hand has been dealt and there’s nothing you can do about it. Well, travel is something you can do. Go to that country you’ve dreamt about visiting, hang out with like-minded people, taste new food and take envy-inducing photos showing how you are having the best life. By getting out there you get a new perspective on the world; it can even show you that your ex wasn’t this perfect person you’d built them up to be. No one’s perfect, after all, and don’t get me started on the pedestal that I’d put my ex-fiancé on.’ A weak laugh floated from the room, spurring me on.
‘They say that travel is pure escapism, which is why it makes sense to turn to your backpack when you’re at a time in your life that you want to escape from. On the tours we run, we encourage guests to talk about their break-ups in a healthy way, so that they don’t return home still carrying the weight of their sadness with them. It’s like shedding a skin, a heavy fur coat that you didn’t realise you were lugging around, and that’s the most refreshing and amazing feeling there is.’
Kelli was smiling at me to continue.
‘At Lonely Hearts Travels we believe that—’
I was cut off by the shrill ringing of someone’s mobile phone. The suits shifted in their seats as I paused and waited for the culprit to turn it off. I was half tempted to remind them that the sign in reception said all phones were expected to be placed on silent when in the presentation room. Nobody moved. I let out a little laugh as the tune rang on, increasing in pitch. The awkwardness grew as they exchanged confused glances as to who was being so ignorant as to let their phone ring for this long.
‘Anyone going to fess up?’ I smiled. They stared back at me blankly.
‘Georgia,’ Kelli hissed, violently nodding her head towards my handbag placed under the table, which I now realised was the source of the repetitive ringing.
Crap. If it’s Erin, I’ll bloody kill her. She’d been messing about with my phone to make sure my calls transferred to her and must not have done it correctly.
‘Oh!’ I flustered. ‘I am sorry! I was sure I’d put it on silent, I …’ I leant down and fumbled in my handbag, feeling my cheeks flush and heartbeat quicken. I muted the call, without checking who it was, and stood up, brushing my hair from my face and trying to compose myself.
‘So sorry.’ I cleared my throat. ‘So, as I was saying, at Lonely Hearts Travels we pride ourselves on offering unique trips to fabulous destinations that will get even the most broken-hearted guests back on top form.’
I paused to check that I still had a captive audience. Kelli had a slightly manic smile fixed on her pale face. The only other woman in the room, bar Kelli and me, had her piercing green eyes narrowed into a pinched frown. She’d been the only one to shake my hand limply and fail to raise a smile during the introductions. So much for sisterhood solidarity, I thought, nodding at Kelli to press play on the short video she’d created. It was a montage of clips filmed by various tour guides showing our guests having the time of their lives. From a woman laughing and waving in the back of a colourful tuk-tuk in Bangkok to groups of smiling tour-goers trekking in the lush rainforest of Brazil, from guests practising yoga poses on a beach in India to dancing at a festival in Berlin, all set to a Florence + the Machine song, that uplifting one with lots of clapping; it never failed to give me goosebumps. This sense of pride that I’d started a business that meant something, that these people were getting on with their lives and, often, changing their lives because of being on one of our tours really was incredible. With my life being so fast paced, I didn’t stop to take in what we’d achieved as often as I probably should. I made a mental note to take a step back before rushing on to the next project in the future.
Just as the crescendo hit and my throat felt clogged with emotion, my phone rang again.
Green-eyed woman coughed loudly and purposefully as the gentleman next to her shifted in his seat in embarrassment for me. I avoided Kelli’s eye but sensed her bristle. If the shoe had been on the other foot, I’d be livid too; we’d worked too hard to look unprofessional like this. I scrabbled to the floor and delved my hand in my bag to shut it up. I thought I’d turned the bastard thing onto silent, so why was it still ringing!
My finger was pressing on the off button when I noticed that the persistent caller was Shelley, my best friend and current Australian bridezilla. Why was she calling me? We always pre-arranged our Skype sessions because of the time difference. It must have been the middle of the night there. I pressed decline and was just about to turn my phone off when a text pinged through from her.
‘Call me ASAP! Everything ruined!!! Jimmy’s gone.’
Jimmy, her fiancé and Ben’s best friend, had gone? Gone where?
I stood up and