limp, eternally greasy hair, the science-lab-technician glasses not worn in an ironic way, and what he hoped, for hersake, was puppy fat, meant that Hilary wouldn’t automatically assume Phil was sleeping with her.
The phone rang and the display helpfully informed him that it was Eve. He let it ring out then reprogrammed it so that all future calls went to straight to voicemail.
He wondered what Eve wanted. She generally didn’t use the phone, preferring to summon her victims by email, or ambush them with impromptu visits. He closed his door, put his feet on his desk and shut his eyes.
What might have been seconds later, the door swung open and Eve herself bustled in, shoulders back, head swivelling, absorbing the state of the room.
‘Phil,’ she drawled. ‘Why aren’t you answerin’ your phone? I’ve been tryin’ to get hold of you.’
Phil put on his startled expression, which involved opening his eyes wide and blinking. ‘Really? So sorry. I switched it to voicemail to give me some thinking space – you know what it’s like round here, impossibly noisy, full of distractions.’ He waved his hands, as though brushing away the noisy distractions. Phil’s office was next to the contract director’s, and Noel demanded – and got – silence at all times. The only voice he liked to hear was his own or, on occasions, the announcer of the 3.10 at the local track.
‘Do sit.’ Phil picked up a set of page proofs from a chair and after some hesitation placed them tentatively on his desk. After he’d done so, he glanced down. ‘What simply fantastic shoes – very flattering. I’ve not seen them before, have I? Or have I?’ He looked more closely at the snakeskin heel-less bootlets. ‘Weren’t they in this month’s Bazaar ?’ Phil made a point of flicking through women’s fashion magazines regularly after he’d discovered that noticing what women wore, as well as being able to recognise a label, gave him a serious advantage in both the workplace and the bedroom. That these magazines were filled with half-naked babes poutingand posing meant that flipping through them wasn’t an act he considered a chore. They were also tax-deductible.
‘Oh yeah, you’re so right, they were.’ They’d appeared in a feature on the return of eighties bonkbuster glamour, ‘Bling with Balls’, and Eve had ordered them online. They were a little tight but she didn’t mind, she’d force them to fit her eventually. Once seated, Eve hitched up her skirt and thrust out her left foot so Phil could better admire its covering. She liked a man who appreciated fashion. It was one of the things that had originally made her husband so attractive – that as well as the fact that they’d had the ‘dd’ in common, as Todd had pointed out upon learning her bra size. There was also his potential, though she’d seriously miscalculated on that front. She still couldn’t understand exactly what had happened, the change had been so quick. All she could do was thank God that she’d met Todd before his deterioration. It was frightening to imagine where she would be if she’d continued along the dire path that had been chosen for her.
‘So, what can I do you for?’ Phil was back at his desk with both feet placed firmly on it, where they appeared to belong. He stretched and smiled at Eve in a manner just suggestive enough to make her wonder if he was being suggestive.
‘I wanted to let you know in person,’ Eve began.
Phil remained perfectly still: so this was it, they were actually going to get rid of him. He was surprised that Eve was doing it in person, it was unlike her. She normally gave Hilary the pleasure, and Hilary certainly did seem to find the task a pleasure. She was never more radiant than when she’d just fired someone. Phil fantasised about Hilary now and again as there was a sexiness to her repression, plus he couldn’t imagine her being needy. He knew he should be concentrating on what Eve was saying, but
The phone rang and the display helpfully informed him that it was Eve. He let it ring out then reprogrammed it so that all future calls went to straight to voicemail.
He wondered what Eve wanted. She generally didn’t use the phone, preferring to summon her victims by email, or ambush them with impromptu visits. He closed his door, put his feet on his desk and shut his eyes.
What might have been seconds later, the door swung open and Eve herself bustled in, shoulders back, head swivelling, absorbing the state of the room.
‘Phil,’ she drawled. ‘Why aren’t you answerin’ your phone? I’ve been tryin’ to get hold of you.’
Phil put on his startled expression, which involved opening his eyes wide and blinking. ‘Really? So sorry. I switched it to voicemail to give me some thinking space – you know what it’s like round here, impossibly noisy, full of distractions.’ He waved his hands, as though brushing away the noisy distractions. Phil’s office was next to the contract director’s, and Noel demanded – and got – silence at all times. The only voice he liked to hear was his own or, on occasions, the announcer of the 3.10 at the local track.
‘Do sit.’ Phil picked up a set of page proofs from a chair and after some hesitation placed them tentatively on his desk. After he’d done so, he glanced down. ‘What simply fantastic shoes – very flattering. I’ve not seen them before, have I? Or have I?’ He looked more closely at the snakeskin heel-less bootlets. ‘Weren’t they in this month’s Bazaar ?’ Phil made a point of flicking through women’s fashion magazines regularly after he’d discovered that noticing what women wore, as well as being able to recognise a label, gave him a serious advantage in both the workplace and the bedroom. That these magazines were filled with half-naked babes poutingand posing meant that flipping through them wasn’t an act he considered a chore. They were also tax-deductible.
‘Oh yeah, you’re so right, they were.’ They’d appeared in a feature on the return of eighties bonkbuster glamour, ‘Bling with Balls’, and Eve had ordered them online. They were a little tight but she didn’t mind, she’d force them to fit her eventually. Once seated, Eve hitched up her skirt and thrust out her left foot so Phil could better admire its covering. She liked a man who appreciated fashion. It was one of the things that had originally made her husband so attractive – that as well as the fact that they’d had the ‘dd’ in common, as Todd had pointed out upon learning her bra size. There was also his potential, though she’d seriously miscalculated on that front. She still couldn’t understand exactly what had happened, the change had been so quick. All she could do was thank God that she’d met Todd before his deterioration. It was frightening to imagine where she would be if she’d continued along the dire path that had been chosen for her.
‘So, what can I do you for?’ Phil was back at his desk with both feet placed firmly on it, where they appeared to belong. He stretched and smiled at Eve in a manner just suggestive enough to make her wonder if he was being suggestive.
‘I wanted to let you know in person,’ Eve began.
Phil remained perfectly still: so this was it, they were actually going to get rid of him. He was surprised that Eve was doing it in person, it was unlike her. She normally gave Hilary the pleasure, and Hilary certainly did seem to find the task a pleasure. She was never more radiant than when she’d just fired someone. Phil fantasised about Hilary now and again as there was a sexiness to her repression, plus he couldn’t imagine her being needy. He knew he should be concentrating on what Eve was saying, but
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