Read Online This is a Love Story by Jessica Thompson - Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Thompson
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against me in a moment of rage.
That was another thing: Anthony was angry. We regularly heard banging from his office on the main production floor as he
slammed his fist on the desk, and shouted at some poor minion on the phone. We would just cringe and keep typing.
He plonked himself down in front of us, small beads of sweat gathering on his forehead from the sheer effort of the treacherous
four-metre walk from his door. I was surprised he hadn’t asked for sponsorship. Over his shoulder you could see a huge fissure in
the window overlooking the car park.
Feeling slightly concerned that Sienna might see them, I tucked my ideas behind the clipboard I was holding. I didn’t want her to
think I was a brown-nosing loser panicking about getting fired (which is, incidentally, exactly what I was).
‘Right, you two,’ Anthony said again, moving a brightly coloured A4 photo frame out of the way and leaning back to reveal an
oversized and very satisfied-looking tummy. One of the buttons had come undone, showing a flash of pale skin covered in coarse
dark hair. Gross.
‘We have obviously had some drama this afternoon,’ he went on, turning towards the cavernous crack in the glass behind him,
then looking back at Sienna with a frown. Yes, this was definitely what the meeting was all about.
She sank down into her chair, looking very guilty. I started to feel the panic rising as I imagined having to fill out procedure sheets
and hold a meeting with her in a month’s time to find out if she had learned her lesson, or whatever the course of action in these
cases might be.
Ant started to speak again. ‘But aside from that, which seems to be sorted out now, we have another problem. Tom called in sick
this morning and he won’t be able to make the trip to America.’ He rubbed his chin with one hand.
I leaned back in my chair and looked down the stairs to Tom’s desk. Of course – his chair had been empty all morning. I’d just
assumed he was at a meeting. I was a bit pissed off that it might mean the trip was cancelled.
But wait. If Sienna had been called in, this must mean . . . Oh, please, say it means what I think it must mean . . .
‘Sienna, I know you’re relatively new, but I think you’ve settled in well so I want you to work with Nick on this one,’ he
announced. Sienna blushed a little and smiled at me as she put her cup of tea on Ant’s chunky wooden desk.
‘Sienna, I want you to create a series of articles for a ten-page supplement for Digimax on the annual gaming fair in Florida. Nick
will be the man behind the illustrations and photographs. How does that sound?’
Silence filled the room as both our original assumptions were blown out of the water and replaced with something utterly
wonderful. I wanted to break this silence like a small child. I wanted to punch the air with delight, leap onto my chair and ruffle my
boss’s hair with joy. The man who I’d previously viewed as a fat obstacle to my happiness was now worthy of carving into a statue
and worshipping. He had gone from nagging me, making girls cry, and keeping us in late, to setting me up on a work trip with one
of the fittest girls I’d ever seen . . . I wanted to run over to Sienna, pick her up and jump onto the plane with her now. My head was
suddenly swamped with images of us waking up in a hotel bed together in one of those ‘whoops’ movie moments, where everything
is sexy and turns out to be OK, and not shit, like reality.
Sienna looked flattered. Overcome. Delighted, even. But still, neither of us managed to actually speak.
Maybe I could take her on a date on the trip. The possibilities flooded my mind and I immediately told myself off because it was
against my new ‘colleagues + relationships = bad’ rule.
‘You two aren’t in the mood for talking today, are you?’ Ant chuckled, pulling out a can of Diet Coke from his mini fridge. The
cool snapping sound of the ring pull cut sharply through
against me in a moment of rage.
That was another thing: Anthony was angry. We regularly heard banging from his office on the main production floor as he
slammed his fist on the desk, and shouted at some poor minion on the phone. We would just cringe and keep typing.
He plonked himself down in front of us, small beads of sweat gathering on his forehead from the sheer effort of the treacherous
four-metre walk from his door. I was surprised he hadn’t asked for sponsorship. Over his shoulder you could see a huge fissure in
the window overlooking the car park.
Feeling slightly concerned that Sienna might see them, I tucked my ideas behind the clipboard I was holding. I didn’t want her to
think I was a brown-nosing loser panicking about getting fired (which is, incidentally, exactly what I was).
‘Right, you two,’ Anthony said again, moving a brightly coloured A4 photo frame out of the way and leaning back to reveal an
oversized and very satisfied-looking tummy. One of the buttons had come undone, showing a flash of pale skin covered in coarse
dark hair. Gross.
‘We have obviously had some drama this afternoon,’ he went on, turning towards the cavernous crack in the glass behind him,
then looking back at Sienna with a frown. Yes, this was definitely what the meeting was all about.
She sank down into her chair, looking very guilty. I started to feel the panic rising as I imagined having to fill out procedure sheets
and hold a meeting with her in a month’s time to find out if she had learned her lesson, or whatever the course of action in these
cases might be.
Ant started to speak again. ‘But aside from that, which seems to be sorted out now, we have another problem. Tom called in sick
this morning and he won’t be able to make the trip to America.’ He rubbed his chin with one hand.
I leaned back in my chair and looked down the stairs to Tom’s desk. Of course – his chair had been empty all morning. I’d just
assumed he was at a meeting. I was a bit pissed off that it might mean the trip was cancelled.
But wait. If Sienna had been called in, this must mean . . . Oh, please, say it means what I think it must mean . . .
‘Sienna, I know you’re relatively new, but I think you’ve settled in well so I want you to work with Nick on this one,’ he
announced. Sienna blushed a little and smiled at me as she put her cup of tea on Ant’s chunky wooden desk.
‘Sienna, I want you to create a series of articles for a ten-page supplement for Digimax on the annual gaming fair in Florida. Nick
will be the man behind the illustrations and photographs. How does that sound?’
Silence filled the room as both our original assumptions were blown out of the water and replaced with something utterly
wonderful. I wanted to break this silence like a small child. I wanted to punch the air with delight, leap onto my chair and ruffle my
boss’s hair with joy. The man who I’d previously viewed as a fat obstacle to my happiness was now worthy of carving into a statue
and worshipping. He had gone from nagging me, making girls cry, and keeping us in late, to setting me up on a work trip with one
of the fittest girls I’d ever seen . . . I wanted to run over to Sienna, pick her up and jump onto the plane with her now. My head was
suddenly swamped with images of us waking up in a hotel bed together in one of those ‘whoops’ movie moments, where everything
is sexy and turns out to be OK, and not shit, like reality.
Sienna looked flattered. Overcome. Delighted, even. But still, neither of us managed to actually speak.
Maybe I could take her on a date on the trip. The possibilities flooded my mind and I immediately told myself off because it was
against my new ‘colleagues + relationships = bad’ rule.
‘You two aren’t in the mood for talking today, are you?’ Ant chuckled, pulling out a can of Diet Coke from his mini fridge. The
cool snapping sound of the ring pull cut sharply through
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