Nina was having a shit day. And as soon as she walked into the meeting room she could tell it was about to get even worse.
Mike looked at his watch pointedly.
"Sorry I'm late," said Nina, sliding into the nearest empty seat.
"That's okay," said Mike, with a look that showed it clearly wasn't. "Shall we make a start?" He smiled at Tory who stood up and walked out to the front of the room. She flashed her usual brilliant smile and Nina could see everybody in the room smile back. Her jaw clenched.
Tory's presentation on how their online marketing campaign had boosted recruitment shouldn't have been that interesting but everyone in the room was enthralled. Tory spoke well; her eyes travelling around table and making eye contact with everyone. When her eyes met Nina's, Nina looked down, feeling something like fury bubbling within her.
Everything about Tory infuriated Nina. The moment she had first walked into the office, Nina had felt her stomach clench. Tory was good looking, in a posh, Sloaney sort of way, with her immaculate brown hair swept to one side across her forehead and her green-grey eyes that always seemed to have a knowing twinkle in them. She dressed impeccably – all crisp white shirts and pencil skirts. Always just enough to show off her slim figure but never too much.
Nina watched the men on her team look at her with obvious lust and the women with envy.
It wasn't just Tory's looks either. She was utterly charming. She had an easy, confident manner and a knack of gently pushing her opinion that seemed to bring everyone, even Mike, round to her point of view.
Everyone said she was like a breath of fresh air and that made Nina feel like she was some crusty pair of pants, waiting to get thrown out.
She watched Tory summarise the successes of the online campaign, watched Mike nodding along like a Churchill dog and clenched her fists under the table. It was her department, and she was damned if she was going to sit back and let Tory bask in the glory.
"That was excellent, thank you." Mike was still nodding approvingly. "Does anyone have questions for Tory?"
"Yes, I have one," said Nina, anger making her bold. "The successes of the campaign are very clear of course but I believe there were a few issues that cropped up along the way?" She looked at Tory and felt triumphant when she saw a flush creep up the girl's neck.
"There were a few teething problems when it first launched," Tory admitted, "but we were able to resolve them quickly and I don't think it affected the overall success of the campaign." Her eyes met Nina's with a definite challenge.
Mike was opening his mouth but Nina jumped in.
"There were significant start up costs associated with the campaign," she said. "And although applications have increased, we don't yet know if these are quality applications. After all, we don't want to have spent money on increasing applications that will just get dumped out later in the process."
Nina felt pleased with herself. She might not have the youthful good looks and charm of Tory but she had been at the company for over ten years, working her way up. When she spoke, everyone knew there was solid experience and hard graft behind her.
Mike grimaced, as if he was in pain.
"That is a good point," he admitted. "Perhaps we should revisit this issue in a few months' time, when we have a better idea of the quality of these applications. But thank you Tory, for an excellent presentation."
Tory smiled again and resumed her place at the table, opposite Nina. Nina tried hard to concentrate on the other business of the meeting but she was aware of Tory's green-grey eyes resting on her face. She finally steeled herself to look back at the girl.
Tory's face showed no signs of anger. She met Nina's eyes openly, with a slight questioning look. And then her eyes travelled slowly, appraisingly down Nina's body and back up to her face.
Nina felt herself flush and looked away.
That look stayed with Nina. She was sitting in her office a few days later, in the middle of writing a particularly complicated email and she caught herself absently chewing the end of her pen and thinking about that long, questioning look from Tory.
She banged the pen on the table in frustration and tried to concentrate on her work.
There was a knock at her door.
"Come in," Nina called, grateful for the interruption. Phil slid into the room.
"Hi Nina. I had just had a few questions about this new leaflet we're doing if that's ok?"
Nina waved to the chair on the other side of the desk. Phil folded his gangly body carefully into it. He was a clever lad and he knew it. And that was the problem. He thought because he was clever that he shouldn't have to spend time any time as a junior executive and should be able to leap straight into senior management. Nina knew exactly what was coming.
"I just had some queries about the wording." Phil spread out the drafts of the leaflet, which were covered with biro scrawling. Nina sighed inwardly.
"Talk me through them," she said, even managing to summon a smile.
Phil talked through all his suggested amendments and Nina gently but firmly rejected every single one. The leaflet had been drafted and redrafted countless times and Phil's only job was to send it to the printers. It was irrelevant that he thought 'cogent' was a better word than 'coherent.'
Nina watched his earnest face and wondered how anyone so clever could be so stupid. He questioned every decision she made, quibbled with every task she gave him and therefore guaranteed that he would never get promoted in this company which was what he so desperately wanted.
As Phil droned on, Nina found her mind beginning to wander. She looked critically at Phil's face and decided that he was quite handsome, in a nerdish, Doctor Who sort of way. He wasn't exactly a muscled hunk but she knew girls sometimes liked the skinny, alternative look.
She wondered whether he was Tory's type. There was no doubt that she would be his – she was every man's type. But Tory was surely way out of his league. Or maybe not, there was no accounting for taste.
She imagined Phil's beardy face close to Tory's soft, pale skin. That beard would tickle. She pictured Phil's beard bristling against the smooth firm, flesh of Tory's breasts and his narrow hips pumping up and down.
Nina caught herself suddenly and jumped. Phil frowned.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes," said Nina, brusquely. "Are we almost done here?"
"Well...there are a few more things I noticed - "
"Are they typos?"
"Well, no just some ideas I had - "
"In that case we just need get it off to the printers ASAP please." Phil's beard bristled.
"But - " he began but as Nina raised her eyebrows at him he stopped. "Okay," he muttered.
As he closed the door behind him Nina sighed and leaned back in her chair. God, this job was hard work. She sometimes felt like she was presiding over a snake pit, with everyone seething and jostling beneath her, just waiting for a chance to topple her. Maybe she was getting too old for this. She was thirty-seven but a lot of the time felt twenty years older. Her energy and exuberance had been drained by the hard slog of this job and when she looked in the mirror, she could see the lines beginning to develop around her eyes and mouth.
And they weren't smile or laughter lines either. She hadn't laughed much since the break up of her marriage two years ago. She'd been about Tory's age when she'd got married and thought that she was settled for life. Then in a few short years it had all gone horribly wrong and suddenly her job was the only place where she felt in control of anything.
And she wasn't about to give up that precious control to anyone.
