Chapter 7
1702 Words
I wake up late the next day, with Matt shouting and Noah cursing the house down as he jogs up and down the stairs to grab his work clothes. I change into my own appropriate work-wear half hidden behind the island while Matt stuffs toast into his mouth and calls his boss to apologise for being late.
I have to brush my hair in the car, which makes Noah scowl because I'm getting 'ginger hair all over his seats.'
He winks as he says it and I have to pretend that I'm not about to roll down the window and jump out onto the high street.
We drop off Matt first. It takes a further fifteen minutes of him speeding down some country lanes and narrowly avoiding old people at crossings for us to reach my office.
He pulls up in a no parking zone and puts on his hazard lights.
"Have a good day, Madelaine."
He smiles at me. I can't stop the blooming blush as I get out of his car and gently close the door, rushing around the bonnet and half-jogging towards the glass door of my office building.
He's already pulled away when I turn back to look for him before I enter. I'm hoping dropping me off didn't make him even more late for work, but the thought quickly disappears as I realise that I'm supposed to be in a rush too.
My heels click on the polished floor as I pass the front desk and walk towards the elevator, pressing up and scrolling through my twitter feed while I wait.
It dings when it opens, startling me.
"I'm on the coffee run Maddie," Zach, my coworker who is technically also my boss but doesn't act like it, calls as he leaves the elevator. "Vanilla latte?"
"Please," I respond, stepping in as he rushes out. I catch his thumbs up as the door begins sliding closed and chuckle to myself at his rush while I get back to twitter.
As I rise, I log out of my own twitter and into the company one. And so the work day begins.
When I get to my desk Chelsea is already sat at my swivel chair, chewing gum and picking at her blue nail polish. There's a green streak dyed into the front of her hair that's new and her red lipstick is smudged beneath her bottom lip already.
"You're a hot mess," I tease.
"And you're wearing fluffy socks with Santa on and high heels," she responds, blowing a bubble with her gum as I look down at my feet and cringe. "You're obviously ready for the Christmas push to start."
"I've had a long weekend."
She laughs and tips her head back, standing up from my chair as I reach around her to log on to my computer.
"I can't wait to hear all about it, after my double espresso."
She stomps back to her own desk in platform leather boots full of straps and buckles, dropping into her own chair when she reaches it. She sticks her tongue out at me before turning to her workspace.
I crack my knuckles and face the emails from the weekend.
Zach appears next to my desk almost half an hour later, balancing three other coffees in a holder as he places a latte on my desk.
"Meeting about the new campaign in half an hour," he informs.
"The oval room?"
"Duh," he laughs and walks towards Chelsea's desk.
As soon as she sips her espresso her eyes meet mine, grinning at me. I reach under my desk and pull out my tablet, shoving it under my arm and following her into the oval room to prepare for the meeting.
She arranges a pile of colourful pens and stationary across the table and I lean back into a comfy chair and sign in to my tablet. My coffee still has steam rising from the lid so I blow on it gently, waiting for the conversation to start. Chelsea usually checks one email when we come into the oval room together - to feel productive - and then proceeds to do nothing else whilst we gossip and giggle like naughty school children.
"Your weekend?" She asks, after only two minutes have passed.
She sets down her own tablet and I know that for the next fifteen minutes she'll likely get nothing done.
"Well my ceiling finally fell in."
"No!"
"Yes," I laugh, answering another email from Zach confirming the changes to a document we'd filled out for the previous project. "On Saturday morning."
"You're not still staying there?"
She takes a gulp of her espresso, finishing it off. It always amazes me that she doesn't burn her tongue.
"I've had to stay with Matt and his housemate. Noah."
"Noah?" Her smile is sly. "I don't believe I've heard of him."
"Anyway," I drawl. "I miss my disgusting house and my broken bathroom already. I'm staying on their uncomfortable couch and have to masturbate in the shower. Unsuccessfully."
She spits on me as the breath pushes between her lips in a strained laugh. I laugh with her and take the first scolding sip of my coffee.
"Because you've forgotten how to do it or because you're scared your brother will accidentally see your uglies?"
I roll my eyes at her.
Zach comes into the meeting room then, surprisingly early, I note, with documents and posters shoved under his arms. He drops them onto the table and sighs, pushing all the documents apart with his outstretched arms.
"Fun," Chelsea deadpans, leaning forward to glance at all the paperwork.
"We have a long meeting ahead ladies. I'll grab the other two - would you set up?"
I nod and start setting up the posters and the whiteboard. Chelsea's eyes follow me - I can feel her laughing at me behind her eyes.
"Do you think your brother would mind if we still hung out?"
"No," I confirm with a shrug. "I doubt he'd care. Though he has a game night with his mates on Tuesday, so we'll have to pick another day."
Zach returns with Loretta and Mohammed, our other colleagues, and we begin putting together a vague plan for the Christmas campaign.
I finish work a little earlier than expected, deciding to hang around the office chatting with my work friends about our plans for the next month and a half.
At a few minutes past five, just as I'm signing back into my own twitter and beginning to mindlessly scroll again, I receive a text message.
Unknown: I'm gonna get a parking
ticket if you don't rush your little ass down here.
I grin at the text that is obviously from Noah, shouting my goodbyes to everyone as I head for the elevator.
Usually I linger around the office after hours, chatting and loitering until Chelsea offers to give me a lift home. Work tends to be the only place where I socially interact with other human beings who aren't Chelsea, so I consider it good for my mental health. Though now I live with Matt and Noah I'm sure I'll no longer have that issue.
Noah in the no-parking zone again and it's pitch black outside now. I pull the sleeves of my cardigan over my body and rush around his car, sliding into the leather seat.
It's heated, already warm. The air is blasting too, so I sink into the headrest and sigh.
It takes a few seconds for me to realise he's looking at me.
I turn to him dramatically, raising an eyebrow.
"Long day at the office?" His voice is deep and gruff. There's a swipe of oil across his cheek and my eyes drop to the dark blue overalls covering his body, all dirty and covered in grime.
He's obviously come straight from work.
"A lot of meetings."
He pulls out of the space in front of my office building and we drive quietly towards the roundabout at the end of the road.
"How was your day?" I ask, half-closing my eyes again. The heat is still blowing against my face.
There's a short pause before he answers, he sounds confused when does.
"It was good. I fixed cars."
I snort. Obviously he'd fixed cars.
"A man of many words," I joke. "Do you think Matt would mind if one of my friends came over one day this week? Or... would you mind?"
He chuckles, deep and vibrating through the car.
"I doubt he would mind. Neither would I."
We fall into a silence that I'm not sure is completely comfortable, because I keep fidgeting in his seat and he turns the music up a few paces louder.
When we get into the house, Matt is nowhere to be seen and Noah disappears in his room so I take it upon myself to raid their cupboards and scrounge whatever I can to make us all a meal.
Low and behold, when I open the fridge it's filled with nothing but beer, protein yogurts and butter that has seen better days.
I huff and pull up directions to the nearest shop on my phone. A ten minute walk -fine. Worth it for a meal that includes fresh ingredients.
Noah's hoodie is still slung over the back of the sofa from yesterday and I pull it over my head again gently, switching out my heels for trainers and pulling my hair into a bun on top of my head.
Maybe I shouldn't, I think briefly. Noah is sweet though, he wouldn't mind.
(Matt might.)
I gently shut the door behind myself and put one of my earphones in as I slink into the night. Google maps tells me where and when to turn so I sing softly along with the music flowing between the instructions.
The shop is at the far end of a long car park that isn't lit up. I walk across it quickly and am in and out in no time, my arms stacked with bags of groceries on each side.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, but with full hands I wobble back through the dark car park and down the street towards the house.
- Writer
