“This stupid fucking prick of a machine!” Paul cries.
Sarah’s hands are in her hair and her eyes are wide. “What the fuck do we do?”
I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing because this is hilarious.
The photocopier has gone crazy, and hundreds of papers are being spit out at record speed. It won’t shut off and it won’t quit printing. It’s Wednesday, and we are supposed to be making training manuals for Veronica, but things aren’t exactly going to plan. It seems to happen a lot in this dodgy mailroom. I have never laughed so much.
“Pull the plug out,” I push out through my laughter.
“Yes,” Paul says, scrambling for the power cords. He shuts them off, and the copiers all fall silent, leaving us to stare each other for a moment.
There is paper everywhere. We have no idea what order the papers are in.
“That machine dropped some serious acid last night,” Paul grumbles.
“Seems so.” I look at the mess around us. “What do we do with all this?” I ask.
Sarah looks around, too. “Shred it. We’ll have to start again. It will take too long to sort this shit.”
Sarah’s phone rings. “Hello. Hey, Marcie…” Her face falls as she listens. “Oh no. Oh, damn it, Marcie. I’ve been waiting for this date for three fucking years.”
Paul and I exchange questioning looks. Who is she talking to?
“Yeah, I know.” Sarah sighs sadly. “That’s okay. Who the hell am I going to get to come with me?” She exhales heavily. “Fine. No, it’s okay, I’m just disappointed. I’ve been looking forward to it for months. He’ll probably cancel on me now.”
I begin to pick up the papers from the floor, while Sarah finishes her conversation and hangs up the call.
“Fucking great!”
“What’s wrong?” I frown.
“I have a double date on Saturday night, and the girl who was supposed to be coming with me has strep throat.”
“So, go alone.” Paul picks up the papers with me.
“He won’t come unless it’s a double date.”
Paul and I frown at each other. “Why not?”
“Because he doesn’t even want to come at all. My uncle does business with him, and I’ve had a crush on this guy for years.” She puts her hands on her hips in dismay. “My plan was to look gorgeous so that he can’t help falling at my feet.”
I smile. “Well, that’s an excellent plan. Of course he will fall at your feet. Look at you.”
“I know, right?” She smirks and gives a wiggle of her arse.
“Just get someone else to go with you,” Paul suggests.
“I don’t have anyone.” She sighs. “This whole day is a fucking disaster.” She kicks the photocopier in disgust.
“Take Lottie.”
Sarah’s eyes flicker to me. “Would you come?”
My face falls. “Oh.” I shake my head. “I don’t… I don’t know the guy.”
“I don’t, either. It’ll a blind date for both of us.”
I stare at her in horror.
“Please.” She bounces on the spot and grabs my arm. “I really like this guy, and I can’t go without someone else with me.”
“You said you didn’t know him!”
“I don’t, but I really like the look of him.”
I roll my eyes.
“Honestly I’ve had the hots for this guy forever. Oh, please, Lottie. Please will you come?”
I stare at her. I mean, I could go, I have nothing else on… but a blind date? I really don’t think that’s such a good idea.
“What the hell?” Veronicas cries out.
Our eyes widen, and we spin to see Veronica assessing the room from the doorway. Her hands are on her hips and her face is furious.
“This damn machine is on acid!” Sarah cries. “We had to shut the power off and everything.” She throws her hands up in defeat. “We couldn’t stop it.”
Veronica looks at the papers all over the floor. She breathes deeply and closes her eyes. “I’m going to count to ten, and then I’m going to turn and walk out of here before I fire you all.” She inhales in a dramatic fashion. “Clean this mess up, and get those booklets finished before I lose my living shit.”
We all drop to the floor and begin scrambling to pick up the papers. Veronica storms to the elevator and disappears, the doors closing behind her.
“Fuck off, you old mole,” Sarah cries as she flips the bird to the closed elevator doors. “I hope the Grim Reaper comes around and fucks you up the ass with a baseball bat.”
“Why can’t you just say that to her face, Sarah?” Paul mutters, disgusted. “Then she wouldn’t give us this shit.” He throws a pile of papers into the bin. “And by the way, the Grim Reaper is too good for her. He has standards, you know?”
The situation overwhelms me, and I sit back on my knees, laughing. Loud, belly- cramping giggles take over, and I can’t stop.
Sarah kicks the photocopier again, and then Pauls begins to laugh, too, until eventually Sarah joins in and the three of us are lying on the floor in uncontrollable fits of giggles.
“This job sucks hairy fucking balls, man,” Sarah shouts up to the ceiling.
“Right?” Paul agrees.
I continue to laugh. If only they knew…
I think this is the best job in the world.
* * *
I glance over my shoulder at Wyatt and Anthony as they follow me across the street, making sure to keep their distance. I’ve warned them with murder if they blow my cover tonight. I told them I didn’t want my new work colleague to know I have security, which is true, but I also don’t want Sarah to find out who I really am.
I know her opinion of me will change if she finds out, and to be honest, I really like her company. She’s refreshingly honest, and she likes Lottie Preston-the real me.
And I have to admit, I like being Lottie Preston, too.
It’s Saturday night, and I have no idea how, but Sarah has somehow talked me into going on this blind date with her. We are meeting the guys at this restaurant-bar place.
I should be nervous. Charlotte would be terrified of going on a blind date with someone. But somehow, Sarah makes Lottie feel brave.
If we can handle Veronica and acid-dropping photocopiers together, we’ve got this in the bag.
I glance down at myself. I’m wearing a fitted black dress that has little capped sleeves and a gathered waist. I have my best black heels on, and my blonde hair is up in a bouncy ponytail so everyone can see my sassy red lipstick.
Wyatt looked me up and down when I walked out of the lift at the Four Seasons, and I didn’t know whether he wanted to spank me and send me back into the room to change, or whether he wanted to kiss me.
Either way, he looked at me like I was different in this outfit. I’m not sure if I liked it.
Sarah links arms with me as we stride down the street towards our destination. Being this fake version of me gives me a confidence I didn’t know I had.
“Where are we going?” I ask her cheerfully.
“Burbank. It’s just up here, and it’s the hottie capital of London.”
“Remember, if it’s not going well, we’re out of here and we’re going out just the two of us. You promised,” I remind her. “I don’t want to be stuck with a moron all night.”
She nods. “I know, but trust me, my date isn’t a moron. Just the opposite, actually. I hope his friend is cute for you. I’m sure he will be.”
I roll my eyes, and she pulls me up the six sandstone stairs into the swanky looking restaurant.
Seductive music is being piped through the speakers, and the decor is modern and eclectic. Large leather chairs are placed everywhere, with huge low-hanging lanterns over every table. The crowd seems trendy, and the atmosphere is fun.
I glance back out through the glass windows to see Wyatt and Anthony crossing the street towards the club.
I told them to get dinner and have drinks so that they don’t look suspicious. Sarah grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowd.
“Where are we going?” I shout over the noise.
“To the back… I can see them.”
“I thought you said you didn’t know what they look like?”
“I know what my date looks like. I’ve stalked him for years.” She cranes her neck to look over the crowd. “Oh, your date looks hot, too.”
I smile as relief hits me, and then we come into a clearing next to a table.
“Hi, I’m Sarah,” she says nervously before she turns to me. “And this is Lottie. Lottie, this is my date, Spencer Jones, and your date here is Richard Marlin.” She’s beaming with pride, waiting for me to react.
The blood drains from my face.
Her date.
Spencer? My Spencer is her fucking date.
Big blue eyes come to rest on mine, and Spencer raises an eyebrow in surprise, a mischievous smirk crossing his face. “Hello, Lottie.”
Oh. My. God.