I glanced down at the menu one last time. ‘Just a garden salad for me. I’m not that hungry.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mum scowl and she told the waitress to bring a bowl of chips and some mozzarella sticks too. The girl took off before I could amend my order and a few minutes later our food arrived at the table.
‘I’ll never eat all of this,’ I said, looking down at it, ‘but I’m going to demolish these mozzarella sticks. Anyway, what did you bring me here to tell me? You said it was important.’
Mum’s knife and fork paused as she was about to cut into one of her loaded potato skins. All the colour drained from her face and she pursed her lips. I saw a flicker of what looked like fear cross her face, but it was gone before I could ask any questions.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ She waved a dismissive hand and popped a forkful of potato, bacon and cheese into her mouth. ‘It can wait until you come round tonight. So, come on, tell me what’s new. Have you got yourself a man yet?’
I shook my head. ‘Nope. I don’t have time for all that romantic stuff; too busy trying to conquer the world, remember?’
I peeked up and saw my mum visibly wince. She leaned over and took my hand in hers. ‘Emily, you really should try and meet someone nice. Although maybe get some highlights in your hair first.’
Over the course of lunch, Mum pointed out no fewer than twenty things I had to sort out in my life. They included my flat, my car and my pores (they were apparently ‘huge’). Luckily for me, my dad came to join us just after the main course had been served. Mum was never quite so critical when he was around.
‘Emily, you’re like that Bruno Mars song,’ he’d said when Mum subtly suggested I should stop wearing the colour grey. ‘You’re amazing just the way you are.’
I couldn’t help but smile. Dad had my back in every situation, even if his lines were a bit cheesy. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to stay for dessert and Mum’s suggestions for improving my life came thick and fast. Another attempt to find out what she wanted to tell me failed; she dodged the question and said she was late for an appointment. It would have to wait until I went round for dinner later that night. Somehow, I got the feeling a big bombshell was on its way, and that I wouldn’t like it one bit.
*
By the time I got back to the office, I was more than ready to throw myself back into work. It was the one thing I could always count on in life: closing deals, enticing new customers to join our group and developing my portfolio of clients had become a way of life to me. When I was working, all my mum’s criticism and the stresses of the world seemed a million miles away.
The first thing I saw as I walked in was Tara Murray’s smug, cat-like grin. My stomach instantly turned and I wondered if Paul had gone back on his earlier promise to hold off on a decision about the promotion.
‘Hi, Emily!’ Her voice was dripping with syrup and I felt like throwing up in my mouth. ‘Have you heard the news? I closed on the Ashbury Hotel today.’
Her smile was so sweet and simpering that she made a Care Bear look bitter. I knew I had to hide how annoyed I was, so plastered a fake smile to my face and hoped it would stay.
‘I heard,’ I replied through clenched teeth. ‘Congratulations. I signed Mulberry House just before lunch.’
Although I couldn’t swear to it, I was sure I saw Tara’s smile shrink a little. She knew how much Paul wanted to land Mulberry House; the Ashbury Hotel was small fry in comparison. I could see it in her eyes as she realised the promotion might not be as ‘in the bag’ as she thought.
‘Oh!’ Her voice rose by an octave and she clapped her hands together. ‘Good for you, that’s brilliant! Have you spoken to Paul?’
‘He’s aware.’ I flashed her a quick smile and sprinted to my desk before she could ask any more questions.
My phone ringing made me jump. It was Paul. He’d made his decision.
*
Minutes later, Tara and I were standing in his office, our respective nerves on tenterhooks as we waited to hear who the proud recipient of the promotion would be. Paul was cradling the phone between his neck and shoulder as he took a last-minute phone call. Nervously, I tapped my foot on the floor and worried at my thumbnail. Every second was eking by slowly, mocking and tantalising me. My whole life was hinging on this one single moment.
Paul muttered a goodbye then put the phone down, turning his attention to us. ‘Sorry about that! Right, so, as you know, you two are the top candidates for the business development executive position. You’ve both got great numbers and today you both closed really important accounts. This company is really lucky to have you two.’
His eyes lingered on Tara for a little longer than I was comfortable with. I couldn’t help feeling like I was third-wheeling something, but I wasn’t sure what.
‘Anyway.’ Paul cleared his throat before he continued. ‘I’ve had a think about things and, given the circumstances, I’m giving the promotion to Tara. Congratulations!’
‘What?’ My voice barely rose above a whisper. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing; all my hard work and dedication had come to nothing. My world slowly began to unravel around me and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it.
My boss shrugged at me and got up to celebrate with Tara, who was jumping up and down and squealing like an excited toddler who’d just found a new box of crayons. She threw her arms around his neck and I noticed two pops of colour rise in his cheeks. The hug lasted a little too long and I was sure I saw a lingering look pass between them.
‘Thank you so much, Paul. I won’t let you down!’ she said, her voice shrill with excitement.
She scampered out of the office like an excited puppy, eager to share the news with her little coven of friends. When she closed the door, I turned to Paul. My arms were folded across my chest, like that would hold all my anger and disappointment in.
‘Better get back to work,’ he said, trying out a smile. ‘Lots of hotels out there we don’t have in our chain yet!’
‘Cut the crap, Paul; that promotion should’ve been mine and you know it! You said it yourself. My numbers were better than hers and I signed Mulberry House today. So, unless Tara managed to pull a master stroke and get us the bloody Savoy or something, I don’t see why you promoted her over me.’
Paul blew air out through his cheeks and laced his fingers together behind his head. ‘It’s just one of those things, Emily; better luck next time, eh?’
Something was off, I could feel it. There had been something in the way Tara had just leapt on him that didn’t sit right with me. But what could I do? Throwing baseless accusations around wouldn’t help and would probably put me in an even worse position. I gave him my best I’m-onto-you stare and stalked off, wondering how the best day ever had gone so badly wrong.
*
By the time it came to finishing for the day, I was more than ready to leave the office. I’d lost my dream job to none other than Tara bloody Murray and had had to listen to my mum finding fault with me for most of my lunch hour. Now it was time to go home, put my feet up and… Oh no. I screwed my face up as I realised I’d have to sit through yet another thrilling instalment of Things Emily Could and Should Be Doing Better.
‘Great,’ I said to the largely empty office. ‘This’ll be a barrel of laughs!’
Mum and Dad’s plush flat in the West End of Glasgow was like something from an interior design catalogue. It was decorated in subtle, muted shades of cream and brown with hardwood