Sugar Daddies (34 page)

It’s a strange phenomenon that things really kick off once that first tick is made. His was followed by another, a sharp girl called Leanna, a smaller opportunity, but a good one, and then another, a long-term opportunity with a logistics company up north, discovered by our eldest trainee, Nick, who’d been working in tech support since he left school.

Katie was quiet as we ate our bagels. I could feel the cogs whirring, the tightness of panic twisting in her belly.

“Don’t let it eat at you,” I said. “It’s far too early to judge anything.”

She stared at her plate. “I just wanted it to be me.”

“It
will
be you, anytime now.”

But she didn’t look convinced.

She let out a sigh as we pulled up outside the office.

“What if I can’t do this? This isn’t insurance, Carl. This is hard. Complicated.”

“That’s where you’re falling down,” I said. “You’re
expecting
it to be hard. You’re picking up the phone with fear. Maybe a little desperation.”

“What can I do?” Her eyes were piercing and beautiful. They hit me right in the chest. “What would
you
do?”

“I’d breathe. Find my zone. Make sure I was in the right headspace before that call connected. And then I’d have a conversation and see where it went.” I smiled. “No pressure, Katie. The pressure is all in your head.”

I unclipped my seatbelt, but she put her hand on my arm. I stilled, watching her as she reached for the dash controls.

“Don’t laugh,” she said, and there was a blush on her cheeks.

I smiled as I realised what she was doing. “I’d never laugh,” I said. “Never.”

She took a breath and closed her eyes as the opening bars sounded. “Will you do it with me?”

“Always,” I said, and I took her hand.

We sang the Rocky theme in the car park until she was giggling too hard to get the words out, until her tension was gone and her eyes were bright and her breath was ragged but free.

And then my blue-eyed girl nailed it. She found her groove, delivered the right call at the right time, and got her tick on the leaderboard just five calls in after lunch.

I couldn’t have been more proud.

Half of the trainees had a tick on the board by Friday afternoon, and those that hadn’t were getting close. Verity was one of those getting close, but there was still an empty white space next to her name.

Conversations were getting slicker, more skilled. The atmosphere was buzzing as everyone pushed for that final result before end of play, and Katie was on fire, animated and smooth-talking with one eye on the clock.

I thought we had a winner for the week when Ryan ticked his second lead up on the board, but I was ahead of myself. I was sitting at his desk to transfer his lead details when Katie’s call connected with the CTO of a big Welsh agricultural supplier. I heard the whole thing play out, from her faultless introduction, to the merry dance of questioning and rapport building, and finally through to the close.

I watched the excitement sparkle in her eyes, the bright smile of someone who knows they’re onto a winner.

It thrilled me.

Intoxicated me.

Made my heart thump in my chest.

“I did it!” she said as she disconnected. “He wants a meeting! They have budget allocated and everything!”

She shot like a rocket to make that second tick, the one that put her in joint first position and marked her as a real contender. Ryan took it well, congratulating her with genuine pleasure at her success. It made me like him even more.

Katie could hardly contain herself as I got to my feet, she did a little jump on the spot and her hands were gripped in victory fists. I took a step towards her to shake her hand, but she bypassed that completely, forgetting our surroundings long enough to throw her arms around my neck.

“I did it!” A breathy giggle right in my ear.

I put my hands on her waist to guide her back to a professional distance, and she looked around at the other callers, her eyes wide as she registered her over familiarity. But it didn’t matter, because nobody was looking at us.

They were too busy looking at David Faverley.

He stood at the front of the training suite, flanked by two senior members of Human Resources, his eyes roving the whiteboard and soaking in the scores.

A hush descended as he prepared to address the group, the chatter of calls easing off as people wrapped up their conversations and took off their headsets. Big boss man had an aura about him, he was dressed in navy with a dark maroon tie, and his silver hair was slick and styled. He nodded his approval as he totted up the totals, realising, as I had long since done, that our team was on track to be a solid performer.

And so was our sweet little Katie.

I pulled her to my side, be damned with professional distance, and her body had become tense, her excitement drying up to nothing.

“Good afternoon,” David said to the room. “My apologies I haven’t been around sooner, but I assure you I’ve been hearing a great deal about your progress from Carl. I hope you’ve enjoyed your first few weeks with us, we know the learning curve is intense, and the adjustment is hard, but I promise the effort will pay off.”

He did the usual introductions, a bit of a company overview, a talk about opportunities post the training programme and a motivational speech about how proud he was of the work everyone was putting in. He was well-practised, his eyes moving steadily across the desks, making eye contact to convey his sincerity, but I knew him too well. Well enough to realise that he was fighting the compulsion to stare in our direction, stare at Katie, at his little star performer.

I was glad he fought it, because Katie’s eyes were narrow, her lips tight, her gaze anywhere but on him. I brushed her fingers with mine, hooked them gently and pulled her hand behind my back out of view where I could hold it properly. I squeezed and she squeezed, pressing that little bit tighter to my side.

It felt so wrong to hide the way I felt from her father, even in the heart of my corporate surroundings. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arm around her waist and hold her, encourage her to broach the distance and speak with him. I’d hold her hand and I’d tell him how wonderful she was, how hard she was working, how great she was doing. How proud I was, how proud he should be.

How she’d wrapped her dainty little fingers around my heart and stolen it. Rick’s too.

I wanted to say all those things, but when David pulled a handful of golden envelopes from his pocket and called the first of the star performers up to claim one, I said nothing, did nothing.

Katie pulled her hand from mine when she realised the inevitable, and I expected her to bail before he called her name, turn tail and disappear to sleight him, leaving him standing with a golden envelope in his hand and egg on his face. She didn’t. She stood still, stern-faced and tense, but rooted to the spot.

I started up an applause when Ryan’s name was called, and his smile lit up the room as he collected his envelope. David shook his hand, congratulated him on an exceptional result, two sterling leads in the first stage of training was impressive, he said, very well done indeed, he said.

And then he turned his attention to Katie with one remaining envelope in his hand.

His smile was bright, and his eyes were warm and proud. It pained me somewhere deep to see the chasm of disconnection between father and daughter.

“Katie,” he said, and he beckoned her. “Please, come and get your prize.”

There was so much emphasis on the
please
, a quiet desperation, the tone of a man eager to bridge a divide and make it right. Katie didn’t move, and my heart was in my throat, my hand on her back to encourage her forward. She resisted, but only for a moment, taking slow steps in her fancy heels, looking mature and professional in her suit as she made her way to him.

Her smile was stilted and her hand was tense and awkward as she shook his. I saw the flash of emotion across his face as she dropped her eyes to the floor.

My heart broke a little for him, and it broke for her, too. For the love waiting right there for her, imperfect love from a man who meant it, a man who’d made his mistakes and lived to regret them, a man who was good and kind in the heart of him, a man who wanted to be there.

A man who’d tried to be there, and failed.

I thought he would admit defeat and let her go with nothing more than an awkward handshake, but I should have known better than that. He handed her the envelope, and took advantage of the moment. My breath choked as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her to him, even though she was stiff as a board. The applause erupted, but his words carried, just loud enough to hear.

I’m so proud of you
, he said.
I’m so very proud.

And then he let her go.

She dithered for a moment, clutching that envelope in her fingers, a flicker of emotion on her face before her guard came back up. She nodded and thanked him, and then she backed away, retreating to her desk to a fanfare of congratulations from her colleagues.

David made his exit with a final thanks, and I took the floor, reiterating everything he’d said about their hard work and how impressed I’d been with their attitude and dedication over a tough start to the programme.

I sought out every pair of eyes, every eager smile, thanking all of them personally and individually, finding something worthwhile to say for every one of them.

Until I came to Verity’s empty chair.

I scanned the desks, back and forth, trying to locate her amongst the others, but she was nowhere to be seen.

I set everyone the task of grabbing a coffee and an informal discussion amongst themselves before the week wound up early, and I headed out to the kitchen, and further to the toilets. Still there was no sign of her. Her bag was still in the footwell of her desk, her scarf still draped over her chair, and a glance through the front window showed her sporty little Audi still in her parking space.

A couple of admin girls were chatting by the photocopier in the corridor outside, and I asked if they’d seen her.

About ten minutes ago.
They pointed to the stationery storage and server rooms
. Went that way.

I found little princess Verity behind a stack of envelope boxes, crouched on the floor with her face in her hands, sobbing her heart out like the whole world was ending. I dropped to a crouch beside her, and she let out a ghastly wail.

“Go away!” she said. “Please, just go away!”

But that’s not my style.

I waited until the sobs eased off a little, waited until she pulled her hands from her face and stared at me with puffy eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head.

I dropped to my ass, indicating I wasn’t going anywhere. “If this is about the leaderboard, you needn’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve had some great conversations this week, I’ve heard you. You’ll get your lead any day now, you just didn’t get your break today.”

“I can’t do it!” she cried. “I just can’t!”

“You can,” I said. “I know you can. You’ve worked hard, you’re doing well. Sometimes the results don’t come in, it can be bad luck, pure and simple.”

Her face crumpled like a scared little girl, and Verity’s bluster was all gone. She looked like a child again, the girl I’d seen in her pigtails all those years ago. “She’s going to ruin my life!”

“Katie?”

She nodded. “He loves her more than me!”

Her words took me aback. “That’s not true,” I said. “Your father loves you very much.”

“Not like he loves her!” She wiped her tears on the back of her hand. “
Be nice to your sister, Verity, share your things with your sister, Verity. Make sure Katie has a good time, Verity. Let Katie choose which horse she wants to ride, Verity. Make sure you give her first choice, Verity. Why don’t you wear your hair like Katie, Verity? Katie’s so pretty, Katie’s so nice, Katie’s so fucking clever and cute and sweet and blonde and fucking wonderful, Verity.”