Page 50 of Falling for You

Annie

I take a deep breath and look at myself in the mirror as the lift skims up to the third floor.

I’m wearing a white woollen jumper and grey fitted trousers with smart, shiny shoes.

The only glimmer of colour is the scarf in my hair, wrapped around my ponytail.

I’m wearing my most professional, corporate outfit.

Everything was bought in a high-street shop; nothing was made by me.

It matches my expression: cold, serious.

After Nate left me in the smoking area, I should have gone back inside.

Part of me wondered whether I should have chased after him.

If I’d chased after him after the first time we met, all those weeks ago at the Halloween masquerade ball, would any of this have happened?

But I couldn’t. I heard him loud and clear.

He’d lost the sparkle behind his eyes and the grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth.

He looked exhausted. He’d made his decision, just like I’d made my decision a week before.

I sank into the corner where he’d been sitting, under the heated lamp, and just stared, my mind buzzing.

Tears fell from my eyes of their own accord, like my body was grieving him without my mind clicking into place.

I don’t know how long I sat there for, but eventually Tanya and Penny came tumbling out.

I don’t know how drunk they were, but as soon as they saw me they snapped into protective-best-friend mode and bundled me up, insisting that we all go home.

I didn’t even get to speak to Stevie Trixx after her show and tell her how great she looked.

The next morning I woke up feeling like I’d stepped into a new chapter of my life.

A week ago, my life was full of colour. I was riding high on excitement and that lovely, giddy feeling of ‘what if’?

What if I did take my business more seriously and create costumes and outfits full-time?

What if I did spend my days sewing, designing and creating pieces I really loved?

What if Nate was as great as I thought he was?

What if I’d found the one? What if this was going to be my life now, forever?

Stupid. It’s laughable now, all of it. I’m thirty-two and I was dancing around acting like a teenager. So, when I woke up yesterday morning, everything felt a bit clearer. Colder, but clearer.

I was going to accept the CEO job. Mum could take over the business, and I could make the odd costume if I had the time or if she needed help.

But I was going to take control of my life and do this job.

I’d get myself a flat and stand on my own two feet.

It was the right thing to do. Just like letting Nate walk away was the right thing to do.

Both made me feel like I was about to die, but that didn’t matter.

Nobody cares about your dreams when you’re an adult; it’s just taken me far longer than everyone else to realise it.

I smooth my hair down as the lift pings open. For the second time in the past week, I’m surprised to see Pam isn’t hunched over her laptop, staring at it like she’s being hypnotised. I look around, before I hear her laughter coming from the kitchen.

‘Pam?’ I call, following the sound of her voice.

As I walk into the kitchen, I see Pam and Rodney, their arms around each other as they sway back and forth to the radio.

They’re both laughing as Rodney holds out his arm and spins Pam round like a ballroom dancer, tipping her back and making her squeal.

Rodney lifts her back up and spots me, suddenly looking incredibly embarrassed.

‘I’m so sorry, Annie,’ he says, his body immediately snapping back to the stiff, upright posture that I’m used to seeing. ‘We didn’t realise you were here.’

Pam flicks her hair back into place, her cheeks pink. She looks at her reflection in the toaster and turns to face me.

‘I dragged Rodney into work with me today,’ she says.

‘I have a meeting at eleven in Moorgate,’ Rodney explains. ‘So I thought I could pop by.’

‘That song was played at our wedding,’ Pam says, gesturing to the radio as the final bars of ‘Be My Baby’ fade into a Lady Gaga song.

Rodney looks down at Pam and they catch eyes, their faces glowing as they beam at each other. It makes my heart ache.

‘How long have you been married?’ I ask.

‘Thirty-seven years!’ they chorus.

‘And this is the first time he’s come into work with me!’ Pam says.

Rodney pulls a face. ‘That’s not true. I’m your accountant.’

‘You were my husband first.’

She nestles into his chest and I feel myself grow warm. God, thirty-seven years together and they’re still dancing with each other in the kitchen. How have they done it?

‘Anyway!’ Pam claps her hands and takes her foamy coffee out from under the machine. ‘It’s a Monday and we are at work, so let’s get to it.’

She gives Rodney a crisp clap on the shoulder and he nods, suddenly back to looking like Rodney, our accountant, rather than Rodney, Pam’s husband.

‘Where’s everyone else?’ he says, picking up his briefcase. ‘You have seven employees on your books.’

The corners of his mouth are turning up in amusement, but Pam waves a hand at him dismissively.

‘It’s always just me and Annie for the first hour or so,’ she says, dropping into her wheely chair with such force that it starts to spin round.

She grabs the corner of her desk and pulls herself towards her laptop, immediately adopting her natural position: hunched over, craned over the keyboard, chest and elbows bent forward, like the laptop is her only source of oxygen.

‘It’s really exciting about your plans to go travelling,’ I say to Rodney. His whole face lights up.

‘I can’t believe we’re actually going,’ he beams. ‘It’s something we’ve spoken about for years, but I always thought it was just a pipe dream, you know?’

My chest aches. ‘Yeah,’ I say quietly. ‘I know the feeling.’

‘Right,’ Rodney says, taking his cue from Pam picking up the phone.

He doffs an imaginary hat at me and gives Pam a peck on the cheek.

But she’s in work mode now, her eyes squarely fixed on her screen.

She does give a non-committal pout in his direction but doesn’t dare break her staring contest with her inbox.

Rodney steps into the lift and I sit down.

As soon as I see him disappear behind the lift doors my heart rate picks up.

‘So,’ Pam says when she looks up from her screen. ‘Why are you staring at me? Everything all right?’

‘I’d like to take up your offer and be CEO,’ I say. And although I’d practised saying this in my head my entire journey here and had every intention of sounding cool, calm and professional, it comes out more like: I’dliketotakeupyourofferandbeceo.

Thankfully, Pam and I have worked together long enough. She’s seen me in every state: nervous, excitable, stressed, anxious.

She turns to face me, spinning round and leaning back into her office chair. ‘Really?’

I nod, trying to ignore the anxiety that’s bubbling under my skin.

This is the right decision. This is the right decision.

‘Yes,’ I say, ‘I love this job, and I think I’m quite good at it—’

‘You’re very good at it.’

‘And I think it would be a good decision for me.’

Pam takes me in for a moment, before pulling out a packet of cigarettes from her breast pocket and sticking one in her mouth. She turns the packet towards me and I shake my head, before noticing that she’s flicked open a lighter.

‘Pam!’ I cry. ‘The fire alarms!’

She waves an arm at me, the glittering flame licking the end of the cigarette. ‘I turned them off,’ she mumbles, pausing to take a long drag. ‘It’s raining.’

I open my mouth to reply and decide against it. She’s lit up now – what can I do about it?

‘You look different today.’

I look down at myself. ‘Ah,’ I say. ‘Yes. I did a wardrobe clear-out at the weekend.’

She raises her eyebrows. ‘Why’s that?’

‘I’m going to be moving soon,’ I say lamely. ‘I probably won’t get a wardrobe as big as mine, so I thought it would be a good time to sort everything out.’

I actually felt a bit disgusted at the sight of my bright, optimistic clothes when I woke up yesterday morning.

It felt like they were all laughing at me, sniggering at how I’d fallen for their whimsical charm all these years and skipped through life thinking that everything would just fall into place.

My stupid notebook was open on my desk. Half the page was filled with delicate strokes and details on Stevie’s outfit, the other side with scribbles of how I could make my business work if I did it full-time.

I threw it all in the bin.

‘Did you sell them?’

I frown. ‘Sell what?’

‘Your clothes.’ She takes a long drag and releases the smoke into the air in a slow, steady stream.

‘Oh,’ I say. ‘No. I just gave them to charity. Or I’m going to. I haven’t got round to it yet.’

She knits her brow. ‘Why aren’t you selling them?’ She says it deadpan, like I’ve just tried to tell her that the sky isn’t blue.

‘Nobody would want my stuff,’ I laugh.

‘People buy your clothes all the time.’

‘Yeah, but,’ I shrug, feeling my face burn, ‘that’s like the odd thing.’

She looks at me for a moment, narrowing her eyes. ‘Well,’ she says eventually. ‘I guess we need to celebrate, then!’ She pushes herself to her feet and makes her way back to the kitchen.

‘What are you doing?’ I call after her.

‘Champagne!’ she shouts back at me. ‘I’m sure we have some somewhere.’

‘It’s not even nine in the morning!’ I laugh.

I hear her tut and I roll my eyes, trying to shake the uneasiness that’s filling my body. I open my laptop as my phone vibrates and a message from an unknown number pops onto my screen.

Hi, Annie! My name is Max, Stevie gave me your number, we work in the clubs together (I’m a queen!). He said you made his costume, I’d love to work with you. Are you free this week for a coffee and chat?