Book 4 - Page 94 (1/2)
Tony held up his hands. “It’s my group policy, Niall. Per the rules I set forth verbally when Ruby started in my group, I can’t allow fraternization.”
“Since when?” I nodded to the door. “Was this rule set forth before or after you hired that one there?” I took a step closer. “Was this before or after you suggested I pull Ruby? Was this before or after you admired her t.i.ts, her legs?”
He blinked, swallowing nervously. “I’m not sure what conversation you’re referring to, but if you’ve been able to find it in writing, I’m happy to discuss it with you.”
I laughed dryly. “So you’ve been to HR, then.”
Tony closed his eyes, repeating, “Per the rules I set forth verbally when Ruby started in my group, I can’t allow fraternization.”
Seething, I told him, “You are a b.l.o.o.d.y joke. I hope Ruby sues your pockets inside out.”
If someone had told me only a month ago that I would meet a woman from the office, fall in love, and lose her all before spring truly arrived in London, I would consider the prospect ludicrous.
Ruby didn’t return to the office that morning, not even to clean out her desk. Her absence was a blaring void: no hint of her silly laugh, no flash of her playful green eyes. Even the interns’ office seemed subdued when I walked past. So as late as half past nine—after my blowup with Tony, and as my blood pressure seemed unwilling to return to normal—I could barely focus on a single task in front of me.
Will you not call me back? I asked her via text message. I’ve made a mess of this. I’m desperate to speak to you.
Productivity at work remained impossible after I hit SEND. I glanced to my mobile nearly every ten seconds, turning the volume up on the ringer as high as it would go. Normally one to leave the device in my desk drawer when I went to meetings, I carried it with me, leaving it just at my elbow on the table. Short of showing up unannounced at her doorstep, it was my only connection to her.
Just after lunch, I heard my text alert, and startled like a madman, toppling a cup of pens on my desk. Hope bloomed, immediate and heavy, making it nearly impossible to breathe. It took no time at all to read it; my heart felt neatly punctured. Her message said, simply, Job hunting.
Typing furiously, I asked her, Darling, please call. Why didn’t you tell me what happened with Tony?
An hour pa.s.sed. Two, three, five. She didn’t reply.
I interpreted it as the dismissal I knew she’d intended and turned off my phone to avoid the temptation to plead with her in an unending string of messages. Unable to work, I paced the hall like a lunatic, ignoring Tony’s furtive, guilty glances in my direction and Richard’s lingering, uncertain ones.
Almost as soon as I set foot in the door of my flat, I moved to the office, dialing her number. It rang once—my heart was lodged in my windpipe—and again, and finally a third time before she answered.