The Christmas Party (9 page)

He glanced at Kirsten, whose smile was frozen in place. Lance’s arm was round her and he wondered if the chairman was doing the same to his wife. Old goat.

Then, as they were all beaming cheesily for the camera, he saw Louise arrive and it wasn’t the flashgun going off that had his eyes popping out of his head. She looked unbelievably delicious. How could he not have spotted this before? It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed she was quite fanciable at the office – but not in this way. Now that she was scrubbed up, she was an absolute stunner. She was wearing some demure black dress, but looked as sexy as hell. Her hair was swept up, showing off her long, slender neck. His mouth had suddenly gone dry. He viewed it as a perk of the job to have an affair with his assistant, which had got him into trouble more than once. After the last incident, he’d sworn off office relationships. He’d let Human Resources pick his new assistant and this one was bright all right. Louise was as sharp as a tack. He was only surprised that she wasn’t further up the ladder already. He’d only made a few half-hearted attempts to flirt with her, but she was having none of it. Not that it had bothered him. There was always someone willing if he felt the urge.

But tonight he was seeing her in a different light. Louise looked truly ravishing and he decided that whatever it took he needed to get to know her better.

Chapter Eight

I stand frozen to the spot on the verge of the reception room. This house is completely awe-inspiring. I’ve never been inside a place like this before and it’s almost overwhelming. I wish now that I’d caught the coach with the others. At least then I would have been able to come in with Karen rather than make an entrance all by myself which is so daunting.

Scanning the room, I look for a friendly face, but see no one I know. I haven’t been at Fossil Oil long enough to make friends properly and sometimes I feel that, as Tyler Benson’s personal assistant, some of the staff actively avoid me.

Everyone’s in a good mood already and the room is bubbling with excited conversation. Waiters hurry by with trays of champagne, but I can’t catch anyone’s eye.

I know I can’t stand here all night like a lemon and, just as I’m bracing myself to join the fray, I feel a hand touch my arm and I whirl round.

It’s Josh Wallace and I’m sure my face must be the picture of relief.

He leans in to say, ‘Hello, Louise. This is a magnificent venue, isn’t it?’

‘Gorgeous. I feel a bit like a fish out of water though.’

‘Never.’ His eyes take me in from head to toe, but not in a creepy way like Tyler. ‘You look like you suit this place down to the ground.’

I feel myself flush when I answer, ‘Thank you.’

‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘That would be lovely.’

Josh stops the first waiter who waltzes by. There must be a knack to it, one that I haven’t yet got.

He hands over a glass of fizz.

‘To a great evening.’ He clinks his glass against mine.

‘I’ll second that.’ I notice that my hand is shaking as I drink. ‘You’re a veteran of these parties?’

He nods. ‘Oh, yes. I’ve been to one or two in my time.’

‘I feel like a complete novice. I haven’t worked in a long time and when I did, the Christmas parties certainly weren’t as lavish as this. If we were lucky, we used to nip down to Wetherspoon’s for a burger and a pint with a few party poppers.’

He laughs. ‘This is a cut above, even for Fossil. But the company’s had a good year. Despite the economic downturn, the money’s been rolling in. My own sales have been through the roof too.’ He shrugs those square shoulders which are flattered by his dinner suit. ‘It’s nice that the employees see some of the benefits.’

As I’ve only just joined I feel that I haven’t actually done any of the hard work, but I’m sure I’ll earn my money next year. From what I’ve seen so far, Tyler Benson will certainly want his pound of flesh.

‘How is it, working for Tyler?’ he asks, reading my mind.

‘I’m still getting used to it.’

A knowing smile. ‘Very diplomatic. You’ll go far.’

I return the smile. ‘I hope so.’

I want this job to be a stepping-stone. I’m grateful to have gone from stacking shelves to personal assistant, but I’d like to think that I could work my way up at Fossil Oil. At the interview, the human-resources manager said that there’d be opportunities for advancement. I’ve just got to keep my nose clean and do a good job.

Then Karen appears. She’s breathless and giggly already. Her cheeks are flushed bright pink and they match her outfit.

‘Hello,’ she shouts at us even though we’re standing just in front of her.

She lurches forward and comes perilously close to spilling out of the top of her strapless dress.

Her head swivels away from me. ‘Hi, Josh.’

I smile: her voice is very simpering, even for Karen. Her fingers twiddle her hair and she licks her lips enticingly and plants a rather slobbery kiss on Josh’s cheek, at which he looks slightly shocked.

‘They’re taking photos over there.’ She waves her arm in a random direction. ‘Come and get one done.’

With a theatrical wink back at me, she grabs Josh by the hand and drags him away. He gives her a benign smile and gestures with his head that I should follow. Not knowing what else to do, I duly fall in step. We wind our way through the crowd until we reach the photographer. There’s a short queue and we join it.

There are two topless ‘firemen’ models on hand to have their photographs taken with the single ladies – and some of the gay men. They’re causing quite a stir and are doing great business posing for photographs on the over-the-top Christmassy set. I daren’t let my mother see a picture of this backdrop or, I tell you, she’ll be recreating it in our living room.

When we reach the head of the queue, Karen pulls at my arm. ‘You and me with the firemen,’ she says.

‘No, no, no.’ I sound like my father. I tug from her grasp. ‘I’ll sit this one out, if you don’t mind. You go ahead and fill your boots.’

The last thing I want is for Tyler Benson to see me in a photo with either of these two hunks. I don’t want him to think that I’m available or looking for some fun. Because I’m
definitely
not.

‘Spoilsport,’ Karen says, but she’s still grinning when she totters forward in the fake snow and on to the wintry set.

Immediately the firemen hoist her into their arms and hold her aloft between them. She squeals with delight, posing and pouting for the camera.

They put her down and she weaves her way back to us, now completely giddy. ‘That was amazing!’ She jiggles her boobs back into her dress. ‘You don’t know what you’re missing. Your turn.’

I hold up a hand. I can’t go up there on my own while people are watching. Even if the firemen are out of the picture. ‘No. It’s not for me. Honestly.’

‘Do it! Do it!’ she urges.

‘Have your photograph taken with me,’ Josh says. ‘It’s not often I have the chance to be snapped with the most beautiful woman in the room. We should have something to remember this party by. I think it will be a very special night.’

I shrug my acceptance. This I can manage, and I’m glad he’s stepped in to rescue me from Karen’s excesses. ‘OK.’

So he takes me by the hand and leads me into the little slice of winter wonderland. We stand amid the snowy trees, the fake icicles and polystyrene snow. Josh gently slips his hand round my waist and we smile nicely for the camera.

Even in my high heels he’s taller than me, and I feel ridiculously protected by this kind gesture. Though, it’s fair to say, I can feel Karen’s eyes boring into me.

When the photographer has finished we go to make our escape.

‘Oh no you don’t,’ Karen says to Josh. ‘You’re not getting away that easily. Now it’s my turn.’ And, while he smiles apologetically at me, she clamps his hand in hers and whisks him back on to the set so that she too can be photographed with him.

She does full-on pouting and preening, draping herself over Josh while he stands looking a lot more uncomfortable than he did with me.

At the other side of the room a gong sounds and someone announces that dinner is served. The crowd surge forward and I get swallowed up as people jostle towards the front of the queue.

Karen and Josh leave the winter wonderland and are carried forward in the crush towards the marquee where the main party is to be held. I’m hemmed in and can’t reach them. I see Josh glance back, but he doesn’t see me. Then Karen links her arm into his and he’s gone.

Chapter Nine

Kirsten stood alone, self-consciously fiddling with the stem of her glass. She was trying to make this drink last, but the temptation to grab another one from the stream of waiters passing by was almost overwhelming.

Tyler had been waylaid by some sweating old man whose cummerbund had rolled itself to a thin, tight sausage across his stomach. It was a revolting sight to behold. They were head to head, deep in discussion. Lance had also drifted away to talk to other members of staff and was currently doing what he did best, slapping backs and guffawing loudly.

When they were left by themselves, she’d turned to Melissa. ‘Thank you for the recommendation of the Christmas planners. They’ve made a wonderful job of the house.’

‘You’re more than welcome,’ Melissa said, but her eyes travelled the room and Kirsten could tell that she was distracted.

‘What are you doing for Christmas?’

‘Er …’ Melissa said. ‘Could you just excuse me? I must visit the powder room.’

‘Of course.’

Melissa sashayed away from her and, disappointed, Kirsten watched her go. She had always secretly admired Melissa. She was a woman who seemed to know how to play the corporate game. Usually they got on quite well at these things, although Melissa seemed content to keep her at arm’s length. But tonight she didn’t seem to be in the mood for small-talk and Kirsten was left alone again. As she so often was.

Most people were now making their way through to the marquee where dinner was being served. This was what she hated about office parties. She never really fitted in. No one at Fossil cared who she was and, the minute they arrived, Tyler got embroiled in work issues and forgot she was there at all.

She looked at her husband across the expanse of hall that separated them. His eyes were roving the remnants of the people heading into dinner and he struggled to keep his attention on the rather agitated man in front of him, who seemed to be telling him some sort of sob story. He would learn, no doubt, that Tyler was not a sob-story type of man.

As she watched more carefully, his restless eyes returned time after time to rest on a pretty young woman on the other side of the room. Though the woman seemed to be blissfully unaware of his attention, Kirsten wasn’t.

She glanced at her watch. Hours to go yet. Hours and hours of this. Standing on the sidelines, just waiting. Was it too much to hope that something would liven up this evening? If she wanted to be with Tyler, she’d have to make her way through the throng to get to him. What was she even doing here? she wondered. Tyler would have been so much happier on his own – moving and shaking, schmoozing and scheming. She, in turn, would have been happier left at home with a gin and tonic and a chick flick.

Tyler never wanted to go out at the weekend as he was always too tired. He liked to slump on the sofa with a bottle of wine, nothing more. By nine o’clock he was normally too sozzled for coherent conversation, or fast asleep and snoring. Kirsten had very few friends of her own. There were several casual acquaintances, women who she said a passing hello to at the gym. One or two who she might go for a coffee with, but that was it. There were no close girlfriends who she could call on to go out for a meal or a glass of wine. No wonder she was so ridiculously lonely.

She thought, in the new year, that she might try to get closer to Melissa. She of all women must understand some of the things Kirsten was going through. Fossil Oil ruled her life too. Perhaps, later this evening, she’d ask Melissa if she’d like to go out to lunch with her. Perhaps they could share a glass of wine and a Caesar salad, swap stories about being a corporate wife, laugh and gossip. How she longed to do that again.

Next year would be different. She would grab control of her life back and do things for herself. She’d give Tyler some ultimatums and, hopefully, turn their relationship around. She had so much to be thankful for and she hated feeling so disenfranchised and discontent. It had to stop.

‘Hello, Mrs Benson.’

Jolted from her musing, Kirsten turned to the woman standing next to her. It was the one Tyler had been ogling. She was bright-eyed and beautiful. Her hair, piled high in a trendy updo, was glossy, her skin flawless, her body ripe with the seductive promise of a younger woman. What was she? Late twenties? Certainly the right side of thirty. Much younger than Kirsten, anyway. Just looking at this fresh-faced girl made her feel every one of her forty-two years. How she wished she could be that age again, with the whole of her life before her. What different choices would she make then?

‘Hi. I’m Louise,’ the girl said, all smiles. ‘Tyler’s new assistant.’

‘Oh.’ Kirsten tried not to stare too hard at her. Of course she was. Tyler would never hinder himself with a plain assistant.

‘I thought I’d come over and introduce myself.’

She was bubbly, keen to please. Her husband would like that too.

So this was Tyler’s new fling. She could see the attraction. Who wouldn’t? In comparison to herself the girl was dewy, gleaming, enthusiastic, full of life. Beside her Kirsten felt like a dried-out old husk. Although Louise’s outfit clearly wasn’t expensive, she looked sophisticated and understated. It made Kirsten feel like a footballer’s wife – overdressed and trying too hard.

‘I bet you’ve been to loads of these Fossil Oil dos,’ Louise continued.

‘Many, many.’ Too many. Far, far too many.

The last time she’d caught Tyler having an affair with his assistant – Debbie – it had been because someone had kindly sent her an anonymous letter to inform her of it. It hadn’t been a surprise. In fact, she’d half-wondered whether it might have been Debbie herself who sent it, to try to break up their marriage, galvanise Tyler into leaving her or something stupid like that. Perhaps that’s what he’d promised to do; Kirsten wouldn’t put it past him. Whatever the plan, it had nearly succeeded. She’d been on the verge of walking out. Only a lot of begging from Tyler and a crippling attack of insecurity had made her relent. If she left him, where would she go? She was the wrong side of forty with no job, no money, no home of her own. She was utterly dependent on Tyler. And she hated it.