Page 29 of (Not) The One
‘Maybe he should stop being such a greedy grouch,’ she retorts. ‘He’s never been particularly pleasant, as far as I can tell, but he’s had a face like a smacked arse since Olivia got back from the US.’ Slouching in her chair, she folds her arms across her chest. ‘Anyway, I may have one or two plans up my sleeve.’
‘Dare I ask?’
‘Did I tell you I taped a piece of tape over the bottom of his computer mouse last week?’
‘No.’ The word hit the air in a gurgling giggle. ‘Why?’
‘Just to piss him off. It doesn’t stop his mouse from working. Just makes it really unresponsive and slow.’
‘Oh, mind fuckery, you evil not-quite genius.’
‘You know who else isn’t a genius?’ In answer, she nods her head in the direction of the counter. ‘For someone in software development, he’s not very tech-savvy. He just kept shaking the thing and eventually threw it across the room.’
‘Bad-tempered Jorge,’ I answer censoriously.
‘I think I’m going to try a glitter bomb next.’
‘Ah, glitter, the herpes of the arts and crafts world.’
‘And impossible to get rid of.’
‘I’m not sure it’ll make him any nicer to be around. And if your glitter bomb ends up anywhere near my desk, I’m not going to be happy.’ I suppress a shiver, thoughts of the sparkling, shimmery mess giving me the heebie-jeebies.
‘You’re such a neat freak. What’s a little glittery pathogen between cousins?’
‘I’m serious, evil not-so genius. Maybe we should be a bit nicer to him. He’s obviously upset that Olivia got married.’
‘Oh, come on! In what universe would he have ever had a chance with her? Not only is she pretty and pretty awesome, but she’s also his boss.’
‘It happens,’ I answer with a light shrug. ‘People get off with their bosses.’
‘Stupid people.’
‘You can’t help who you fall in love with.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ she answers indifferently.
‘Your time will come.’ Did that make me sound ancient? It sounds like the sort of things old ladies tell you whether you want them to or not when you’re on the bus.
Your time will come.
Youth is wasted on the young.
Find a nice young man.
Bad boys grow up to be bad men.
Don’t sit on cold walls or you’ll get haemorrhoids.
I’m so pleased I drive these days.
‘I’m in no hurry,’ she says with a snort. ‘After what love did to you, love can jog on!’ To demonstrate, she hooks her thumb over her shoulder.
I smile tightly. You can’t explain love and loss to someone who’s never experienced it. Not that I’m saying I’m still grieving because I’m not. I’m just saying love bloody hurts, and I’m beginning to think it’s not worth it at all. I mean, look at my parents. Twenty-eight years of marriage and now they’re circling like dogs ready to tear out the other’s throat.
I flip away from the social media app I’ve been scrolling and open up my emails. Then close them again as I notice Cameron’s latest missive which, judging by the subject line, is
URGENT!!!
