Last Chance Saloon - Marian Keyes [131]
‘Is nothing sacred? That was a private conversation.’
‘MenChel are paying a hundred pounds an hour for my expertise,’ Vinnie replied. ‘You’re lucky you’re getting it for nothing. Now, where were we? Let’s think this project through.’ He rushed over to the office whiteboard and began scribbling a diagram with a squeaky marker. ‘The starting point is here.’ He indicated a wobbly red oblong, then drew an arrow out of it. ‘Until Thomas turns you down – and he may not – there’s no problem. So you must propose to him.’
‘Why? Will you sack me if I don’t?’
Vinnie looked startled.
‘Why not?’ Tara asked herself. ‘My friend has threatened to die on me if I don’t. Why should I be surprised to be threatened with the boot?’
‘I’m sorry.’ Vinnie suddenly realized the inappropriateness of his behaviour. ‘I got carried away. I shouldn’t have earwigged. But it was so interesting… such a challenge… You see, I haven’t been getting much sleep, my fourteen-month-old is teething…’
‘He’s right,’ Ravi muttered, when Vinnie had slunk back to his desk, pawing at the crown of his head. ‘I hate to say it but he has a point. Ask Thomas to marry you. You know it makes sense!’
‘But…’ How could she put words on the terrible fear that if she began to interfere, the whole house of cards would come tumbling down?
‘Time to start work again,’ Ravi announced, looking at his watch. ‘I must wash my hands.’
As soon as Ravi left the room, Tara snatched up the phone and dialled a number. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I wonder if you can help me. I’m afraid my purse was stolen, with my Visa card in it. I’d like to order a replacement.’
48
Amongst the cocktail of emotions that washed around in Katherine was the feeling that she had nothing left to lose. The terrible events of recent weeks had cut her adrift and the fixed points in her world were left long behind.
Liv, Sandro and the O’Gradys were pissed off with her. Tara wasn’t talking to her. She wasn’t talking to Tara. And, in a way, she’d already let go of Fintan. She had nobody now. What harm could it do to apologize to Joe Roth? Even if he was horrible, what did one more person matter?
A strange recklessness took hold of her. The adventurous spirit that she’d always denied, suppressed, quashed. At the end of the day she was her mother’s daughter, and it was bound to catch up with her sooner or later.
All the same, that didn’t stop her quaking with nerves on her way to work on Friday morning. She thought she’d been worried the day before? She hadn’t known she was born! With her wishy-washy smiles and handful of words, she’d delivered nothing more than a highly unconvincing dress rehearsal. But this was the genuine article. Real bullets in the guns, this time. People could get hurt.
Her fear made her dizzy.
Today Joe wore a narrow-cut suit in darkest aubergine, with a dazzlingly white shirt. He glowed with attractiveness.
Despite her nerves, Katherine wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. Waiting was even worse than doing it. So from the moment she – finally – took off her coat, she tried to get Joe on his own so that half of Breen Helmsford wouldn’t hear what she had to say. However, that proved impossible. Joe was a busy, popular man, who went to plenty of meetings, got and made hundreds of phone calls and had lots of people dropping by his desk for a chat. Every time one person left him, Katherine made a monumental, bootstrap effort and propelled herself up out of her chair. But before she’d even straightened her legs fully, either his phone rang or a new person joined him, and all her teeth-gritted force would come to nothing and she’d have to sit down again. She spent a work-free morning on the verge of screaming with frustration, her adrenaline amped to the max.
At lunchtime he went out to meet clients, so she endured