Cupcakes and Christmas: The Carrington’s Collection: Cupcakes at Carrington’s, Me and Mr. Carrington, Christmas at Carrington’s. Alexandra BrownЧитать онлайн книгу.
number then.
‘Stop bobbing around. It annoys me.’ Maxine slaps the desk to emphasise the fact.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, shall I sit down then?’ Tina treats me to one of her stares as she pulls up the Chesterfield armchair from the corner and, positioning it adjacent to Maxine, she perches on the edge.
‘Have you got the latest sales figures for Women’s Accessories?’
‘Yes, right here. I guessed you might need them. I’ve put them in a nice folder for you,’ Tina schmoozes, handing Maxine a girly pink plastic wallet.
‘Thank you.’ Maxine stares at Tina, who doesn’t get the hint. ‘You can go now.’
‘Oh, right. See you later then Maxine,’ Tina says, as if she’s her new best friend forever. Maxine waits for the door to close before turning to me.
‘This is a bit more like it. These figures are very healthy indeed,’ she says, letting out a low whistle. ‘So how are you getting on with your Valentine’s promotions?’
I lean forward, feeling pleased with myself. Since The Heff’s announcement, sales have really stepped up. It’s a complete free-for-all now, with all the sales assistants mindful of the new scaled-down numbers that might emerge following Maxine’s review. We’re all grabbing whatever customers we can get our hands on. Some of the others have even taken to asking every customer, ‘Can I help you?’ within a second of them glancing at the merch. Something we used to avoid like the plague after things got out of hand with customers getting arsy and complaining about being harassed. Janine from the bingo hall on Cheriton Way almost walloped Darren in Pens when he badgered her a little too hard. Luckily, Mrs Grace stepped in and gave Janine a voucher for a free coffee in the café by way of an apology.
‘Well the high-end bag sales are really benefiting from the complimentary his-and-her massage voucher with every purchase over two hundred and seventy-five pounds.’ She nods her head. ‘And I’ve even thought ahead, because some people get engaged on Valentine’s Day,’ I say wistfully, wondering if I’ll ever be one of them. ‘So, continuing the romance theme through to summer, weddings, and so on, and bearing in mind that old adage of “customers who try … buy”, I’ve set up a mirror next to my counter so customers can see how a handbag will look on their shoulder, or nestling in the crook of an elbow, in proper Kardashiantastic style.’ Silence follows. ‘Kim Kardashian?’ I explain, but Maxine just stares at me blankly. I plough on. ‘And I’m seeing plenty of single women who want to treat themselves too – who needs a man to buy us a Valentine’s present anyway?’
I attempt a little laugh, but she looks horrified, so I clear my throat instead. I imagine she wouldn’t dream of actually buying her own present, and why would she when she probably has a string of men lining up to spoil her with gifts? ‘Yes, I’ve even grouped together a selection of silk scarves and summery hats for customers when trying on the designer sunglasses.’ I soldier on. ‘Most of the time it works, they get caught up in feeling all wedding-y and can’t resist buying the whole ensemble.’
‘Impressive. James and Tom could learn a thing or two from you. But then they’ll never have our female advantage, will they, when it comes to seducing customers into parting with their cash?’ Maxine flashes her pageant smile. ‘Talking of weddings, have you been invited?’ Maxine tilts her head towards the door to indicate Tina.
‘Yes. But it’s couples only, so—’
‘Snap!’ She interrupts. ‘You’re single too, same as me. I’m going on my own so we can keep each other company. I love a good wedding, always plenty of men around,’ she says, suggestively. Maxine slaps the folder shut and, taking it as a cue to leave, I stand up. ‘That’s all, and keep up the good work.’
‘I will, and Maxine, I am loyal, especially to my friends, and to my job of course,’ I add quickly.
‘Good. So you won’t be assuming the grass is greener then, will you?’ The threat in her voice is there, loud and clear. With my backup plan scuppered I feel even more vulnerable. I try and concentrate my mind on the possibility that she cancelled my interview at Palmers because she really doesn’t want me to leave. But the feeling of paranoia that’s mounting by the minute is getting harder and harder to suppress.
‘No,’ I say quietly, as I head towards the door, which flings open just as I reach out to the handle.
‘Ahh, Georgina.’ The Heff appears, looking surprised to see me and clutching an enormous bouquet of red velvet roses. ‘Err, these arrived.’ He throws a look in Maxine’s direction.
‘You can put them over there,’ she says, pointing towards a side cabinet, without even bothering to look at them properly.
‘Err, right you are,’ The Heff booms, striding past me to place the flowers down, before settling on a sofa and flinging his arm along the back in a very casual pose. An awkward silence follows.
‘That’ll be all.’ Maxine looks at me.
‘Of course,’ I reply, quickly ducking out of the door.
As I make my way back to the lift, I can’t help wondering why The Heff has been relegated to delivery boy now. I’d have thought that would be another job for Eddie.
17
‘I’d just like to spend some time unwinding with you, if that’s OK?’ It’s late and James and I are the only ones in the canteen again. He looks at me, edging his fingers along the top of the table until they’re almost touching mine.
‘Err, well I’m not sure.’ I search his face, wondering what he’s up to. He never used to be so flirty with me … I decide to address it once and for all. I quickly pull my hand away.
‘Look James, I’m flattered, really I am, but what about your wife?’ I ask, scrutinising his face.
‘What about her?’ he says, his face not changing. I can’t believe his front. He’s always seemed like such a decent guy. In fact, I’ve seen him coming back to the office at lunchtime with armfuls of presents for her in the run-up to the Christmas holidays. I even heard him on the phone one evening, outside the big Wetherspoon’s in the centre of town, when we all went out after work to celebrate Debbie in Haberdashery’s fiftieth. His voice was all soft and interested.
‘Well, don’t you think your wife might mind?’ I reply, crossly, wondering if he was this forward with Maxine.
‘Soon to be ex-wife.’ There’s a long silence, and then it registers. I stare at him and see a puzzled look on his face.
‘What did you say?’ My pulse quickens.
‘Oh right. You don’t know, do you?’ James clutches his head in his hands.
‘Know what?’
‘I’m getting divorced. I just presumed you knew,’ he says, peeping through his fingers. He shakes his head, his voice filled with concern. ‘Georgie, I’m so sorry, what must you think of me? No wonder you couldn’t wait to escape from the bar that night.’ I sit in silence, trying to process this information. Poor James.
‘James, I didn’t know.’
‘It figures,’ he says, shaking his head again. ‘Yes, Rebecca decided she preferred my best man to me. Apparently he’s more ambitious than I am, oh and better in bed, I think she also mentioned, when I wouldn’t agree to let her have the cat. So, under the circumstances, I agreed to a divorce,’ he finishes, with a wry smile.
‘I’m sorry. Truly I am. But why didn’t you tell me before now? I thought we were friends.’ I can’t believe it. So he’s not a two-timing flirtatious rat after all. My mind races.
‘We are. But you know how it is in work. There just never seemed like an appropriate moment. I guess I just presumed you knew. Eddie knows, and I thought with you and him being such good friends, he would have