Read Online Nearly Almost Somebody by Caroline Batten - Free Book Online

discovered the incompetent arse was paid twenty percent more than her.
    Everyday sexism, baby.
    The bright red paintwork around the Carr and Young window framed a multitude of adverts – the cheapest property on display requested offers in the region of four hundred grand. Zoë’s smile returned. The commission she could earn working at the North-West’s most prestigious estate agency made a mockery of what she’d maxed in Manchester. It’d be worth the sucking up.
    She seized the door handle, but staggered backwards as the door was thrust open.
    ‘Like he’d give a–’ A guy stared at her from the open doorway.
    A fit-as guy.
    What was he, thirty? White shirt, ironed. No tie. Some kind of office job, but not too stuffy. Not a solicitor or accountant. She couldn’t tear her eyes away to check out his shoes. His eyes were blue. Full on blue, but he had almost black hair. How unusual. And he was still staring.
    She smiled.
    He smiled back.
    ‘You going in?’ he asked, holding the door open.
    ‘I’m going in.’
    ‘You look...’ He laughed, shaking his head a little. ‘Have a very good day, beautiful.’
    ‘I will.’ She stepped inside but paused to glance back. ‘Thank–.’
    He’d gone.
    Fit as, and he’d called her beautiful. He’d called her beautiful and hadn’t even glanced at her cleavage. How utterly bloody refreshing.
    ‘You must be Zoë.’ A perky blonde dashed over.
    And you’d be the one who wants a new BFF. Zoë nodded, smiling. ‘I’m Zoë.’
    ‘Come in, come in. Welcome to Carr and Young.’
    Within ten minutes, the perky blonde had introduced herself as Jess and twittered without pausing for breath as she made them both mugs of instant coffee. Through the glass panel in the door, Zoë spied on the other employees. Two older women and a girl her own age with glossy long dark hair sat at desks in the open plan office. The two other doors – one marked Meeting Room , the other Mr Carr – were closed. Mr Carr.
    Three phone calls and he’d offered her a job, increasing her salary by twenty-five percent, but she’d yet to meet the guy – and she was dying to. His photo on the company website made him look pretty hot, like Paul Newman in his heyday.
    ‘So where is everyone?’ Zoë asked as they left the kitchen, heading to the nearest of the older women.
    Jess’s brow furrowed. ‘Everyone?’
    The older woman stood up, holding out her hand. ‘This is it. We’re a tight knit group at Carr and Young. I’m Barbara.’
    Zoë nearly spilled her coffee. This was it? Two sixty year-olds, a ditzy blonde and a predatory brunette. Where were the men?
    ‘And this is Nikki,’ Jess added.
    ‘Two ks and an i.’ Nikki sat on the edge of her desk, undisguised animosity seeping from her pores as she flicked her long dark hair over one shoulder. ‘Did Jonathan really give you a job just like that, without him or Maxine ever meeting you?’
    Zoë’s back stiffened, but she flashed an amenable smile. So this was the office bitch. There was always one. Who the hell was Maxine? ‘Is he here?’
    ‘Who?’ Jess asked blankly.
    ‘The boss. Mr Carr.’
    The remaining older woman hung up her phone, and strode across the room, her black spike heels looking ready to snap under the weight of her cankles. ‘Zoë, lovely to meet you, finally. I’m Max, the office manager. Jonathan comes in on Thursdays and believe me, his diary is all about meeting you, but until then, it’s just us girls.’
    Just us girls? Zoë’s stomach dropped. Where were the men she could wrap around her finger from day one? This job was going to be hell on bloody earth.
     
    * * *
     
    ‘I’ve had the worst day,’ Libby called as she slammed the front door. ‘I hate, absolutely hate, hate, hate Kim.’
    She kicked off her boots, frowning at the boxes stacked in the hallway. Zoë had been busy. In the living room, the curtains and every single knick-knack had gone, and vast decorator sheets covered the sofas. Maggie