Rachel shivered as her stomach performed a somersault.
‘As for you,’ Greg went on, pointing at her with a forkful of vegan gyoza, ‘you look at him like you can’t decide whether to run for the hills or serve yourself up in a snack box.’
‘GREG,’ Rachel moaned, burying her face in her hands. ‘Stop.’
‘What I’m trying to say is, I get it: you’re confused. Your formerly frosty feelings towards Jack have melted somewhat in the face of his hotness. Just be careful. I’ve always thought dipping your pen in the office ink is a bad move – and that’s in situations where someonehasn’talready revealed themselves to be a cheating bastard.’
‘Nobody is going to be dipping anythinganywhere,’ Rachel said, embarrassed and off balance. ‘And honestly, I think you should be giving me props for my professionalism here. It’s been quite an effort just being civil to Jack most of the time. Now can we please change the subject?’
As if in answer to her plea, the waitress reappeared with the rest of their food and set it down in front of them. ‘Another round of drinks?’ she asked.
‘As soon as you can possibly bring them,’ Rachel said. ‘Thanks.’
‘More booze on a school night?’ Greg grinned, raising an eyebrow at her.
‘It has green stuff in it,’ Rachel scowled. ‘And fruit. You’re always telling me I should enjoy more plant-based foods.’
He smiled at her again, then suddenly burst out: ‘Oh my GOD, I almost forgot to tell you about Valentine’s Day!’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, apparently Mountaintop Media make a big thing of it every year. And now we’re part of the fold, R/C will be doing the same.’
‘Gross,’ Rachel said. ‘What’s going to be happening? If there are plans for a kissing booth or a man auction, I’m going to have to call in sick.’
‘No, no,’ Greg said, ‘nothing like that. It’s all about balloons, apparently.’
‘Balloons?’
‘Yes. Colleagues are encouraged to order balloons for one another anonymously – in theory, for the sake of expressing professional admiration, rather than a latent desire to hump each other. You pay two pounds for each balloon you want to send, write the card that goes with it, and all the money raised goes to charity on behalf of the agency. Then, on V-Day morning, volunteers come in early to decorate the office. All the balloons are tied to their recipients’ chairs – each one with its own little note from the sender – so that when people get to work they have a fun surprise.’
‘Wow. So it’s a schmaltzy popularity contest, like something from an American teen movie. It’s making me feel ill and it hasn’t even happened yet. It’s a miracle my food is staying down.’
‘Mock all you like, but people are going toloveit. And it gets better: who d’you think Toby has put in charge of this whole thing?’
‘Oh God …No,’ Rachel sighed as she reviewed the most likely candidates and arrived at the obvious, ominous conclusion.
‘YES!’ Greg grinned, delighting in Rachel’s dread. ‘Donna will be taking payments, keeping track of who’s ordered what and making sure all the balloons make it to their rightful owners. I wouldn’t put it past her to steam open all the envelopes before the cards are attached to them, while she’s at it.’
‘Ugh. Nor would I,’ Rachel said. ‘This is madness: she’s already far too interested in other people’s lives. Letting her do this is like licensing her to be Chief Office Gossip. Toby might as well have given her a plaque for her desk.’
Greg laughed. ‘Yep. But there it is.’
‘I’m not looking forward to this,’ Rachel said. ‘I’ve always hated Valentine’s Day, but at least in years gone by I was safe from it in the workplace.’
‘What are you more afraid of?’ Greg asked. ‘Getting a balloon from Jack ornotgetting a balloon from Jack?’
Rachel mashed at her drink’s limp mint garnish with her straw before meeting his eyes.
‘Honestly?’ she said. ‘I’m afraid of caring either way.’
15
‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’ Greg yelled at Rachel as she strode across the office on Thursday morning. She grimaced and threw a sarcastic thumbs up in his direction, ignoring his sniggers as she fought her way towards her own desk, wading through the sea of pink and red that obscured her route.
R/C’s open-plan workspace was a hellscape of tacky romantic paraphernalia. In addition to the hundreds of balloons tied to the backs of her colleagues’ plastic swivel chairs, vases of flowers sat on desks, large glass jars of chocolate hearts were strategically placed near every workstation and glittery, bright-pink bunting that spelled outLIVE, LAUGH, LOVEhad been suspended from several ceiling-height bookcases.Bleuch.
It appeared that around half the people here today had also followed Donna’s mandate to ‘get into the spirit of things’ by wearing red, pink or otherwise festive clothing. Rachel spotted Kemi leaning against Ivan’s desk, reading the card that had been attached to a balloon he’d been sent. She was wearing a red denim miniskirt and a bright white T-shirt with a gigantic heart emblazoned across the boobs. She’d even adorned some of her braids with red beads.