She took a deep breath and eyed the stain on the charcoal fabric, then decided there would be no scrubbing it off.Pulling her hair down, she arranged her blonde curls over the ruined shoulder just in time for the doors to ding open. Nobody looked up from their desks as she headed into the office, the quiet broken only by the sound of tapping keyboards and mouse clicks. It made her want to shudder. She had always felt… muted here. Like she was anonymous. No one.
But surely the promotion would change that. She would be a director, would decide how people should or shouldn’t work. She would dissolve the silence with orders and chitchat – with people who would probably dislike her, as everyone disliked their bosses, but what did that matter?
Pulling her CV and portfolio from her purse, Harper knocked on Chris’s door before she could second guess herself. Her palms were clammy, fingers shaking.
“Come in,” he called from the other side of the door, so she did.
Chris’s office was large and open, with a perfect view of the uneven skyline behind him. It was a sunny, frosty day in Manchester, but somehow the cold didn’t touch her the way it had in Scotland. Perhaps her hypothermia had affected her internal thermometer, or perhaps it was something to do with the glumness she’d been drowning in ever since getting home.
The older man gave her a clipped smile and gestured to the chair opposite. Chris was as plain as ever, with his blue collar askew, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, and his greying hair combed to one side. “Take a seat, Harper.”
“Thank you.” She sat, picking nervously at the corner of her leather-bound portfolio.
“It’s good to have you back. Thank you again for agreeing to the interview.”
“Of course. Thank you for inviting me.” Her words were wooden. The air around her thickened with her palpable discomfort, and she found it difficult to draw a full breath, just like the night she’d swum alone in the loch. For a moment, she wondered if the doctors had been wrong and she was still unwell. Then she realised that the problem didn’t start in her lungs, but with that same tightness around her chest that she used to wake up with daily.
Anxiety she’d never really acknowledged until it hadn’t been there anymore.
“How have you been spending your time off?” Chris asked through a sip of coffee, light bouncing off his shiny temple.
Time off? Is that what they were calling it?
“I went away for a few weeks,” she said. “To Scotland.”
“Oh, very nice. I suppose you’re welcome, then, for the bit of free time!”
Her fingernails dug into her palms. “Hmm, yes. Thank you ever so much for putting me out of a job, Chris,” she blurted without thinking.
His laughter ebbed, and he shifted awkwardly.
Oops.
A year ago, she would have panicked, but she found that voicing her truth made her feel freer.
“Anyway, let’s get down to it, shall we?” He sat back in his swivel chair, crossing his hands over his belly. His shirt strained at the buttons, displaying stomach hair she’d rather not see. He’d always commented on her appearance before, noting when her skirt was a bit too short for the office or her hair looked unprofessional, and yet the man had the nerve to wear his tie askew and his clothes two sizes too small.“As you probably guessed, Debra has left us for a swanky new company around the corner, completely without warning, so I need to fill this position quite quickly.”
As he explained the expectations of the role, Harper found herself zoning out, fixating on the tall clocktower hotel bathing in the low sunlight behind him. She used to imagine working for a nice hotel like that, where she would get more creative freedom and perhaps market something more rewarding than the furnishings she promoted here.
In Belbarrow, she hadn’t had to imagine. She’d had a hand in helping the only B&B in town. She’d encouraged Fraser to be proud of his art. She’d been part of something.
What was she part of here? Nothing she really cared about.
Her throat went dry as she pretended to listen, while he piled on duty after duty. More work than even Debra had complained about. More work than she wanted to do.
She managed to get through the interview section by the skin of her teeth, pulling out clichés such as “I thrive in a fast-paced environment” and “I certainly have lots of ideas on how to deliver brand new results while appealing to our existing customers”, both of which were lies. When he saw her out, she felt numb. She rubbed her chest roughly to chase it away, but it stayed.
“You’ll be hearing from me shortly. Cheers again, Harper. I’m so glad we can count on you.”
Harper nodded without conviction, closing her eyes when the door closed and she was left alone.
Until she heard heels clicking down the hallway towards her. She stepped back to let the person pass—
And wished she could dissolve into the wall when she saw the cortado-wielding woman in front of her.
“Kenzie.”
“Harper.” Kenzie’s mouth hung upon for a moment. She looked as beautiful as ever, her black hair slicked into a braided bun and her dark eyes bright. She wore a khaki-green turtleneck and a brown pleated skirt. Harper had picked up a similar one on their last shopping trip, then been encouraged to put it down because Kenzie worried it might make her look a bit “frumpy”.
