Page 13 of All the Drama from New York

Please don’t let her have been in an accident.

“We tied the knot!”

It took a second or two for her addled brain to register Hope’s words. “What knot? I don’t understand.”

She winced at the loud commotion which drifted down the phone. It was like a dozen people were all talking at once, accompanied by an orchestra comprised of a thousand pinging machines.

“In the US, when we say someone has tied the knot, it means they got married. Neil and I are husband and wife. How amazing is that? He flew us out here to Las Vegas late last night and then got down on bended knee in front of the Bellagio fountain and proposed. Oh my god, Cami it was so romantic! I had to say yes.”

Camille held the phone away from her ear for a moment, as she silently mouthed every foul word she knew in French, English, and German.

Hope had gone and married Neil. Neil the shitty boyfriend who had broken Hope’s heart over and over again.

Just when she thought that particular nightmare might finally be over, Neil had pulled a Vegas sleight of hand and made Hope his wife. His Yang had smashed Camille’s Yin to pieces.

Camille gritted her teeth. There was nothing she could do, the damage was done. All that was left was to try and pick through the rubble and see what could be salvaged.

“Congratulations. That’s wonderful news,” offered Camille.

Like hell it is.I’ll give this trainwreck of a relationship six months at tops.

Knowing Neil he would be waving divorce papers in front of Hope every five minutes, in order to make sure his wife toed the line.

There was frantic whispering going on now, and Camille could just make out the deep tone of Neil’s voice. “Do it. Tell her.”

A chilling sense of premonition crept down her back once more. Hope had run off to Las Vegas and gotten married, but Camille was sure that wasn’t going to be the end of it. Neil would want his victory over her to be complete. Which meant another ticking bomb was about to explode at her feet.

There was a worrying pause on the other end of the line. Camille’s already sinking stomach bottomed out as Hope delivered the final gut punch.

“I’m also ringing to give you, my notice. Neil doesn’t want me working for you anymore.”

She knew plenty of French words which would suffice, but nothing came close to the hard impact that a stream of barely muttered English foul oaths could bring to this situation.

Fuck. Fuck. And triple fuck.

Her irreplaceable personal assistant had just resigned.

Fuck.

But if her sole employee wished to leave, there wasn’t much she could about it. Just make the handover as smooth as possible.

I have to get Hope alone and try to talk some sense into her. Who knows, she might be able to get this stupid marriage thing annulled, or whatever they do in America. I wonder if I can get a top divorce lawyer onto this before the ink is dry on the wedding certificate.

Camille sucked in a deep breath. “I’m really sorry to hear that you are resigning. Maybe take a day or two to think things over. Just because you got married, doesn’t mean you have to leave.” Or yield to Neil’s demands. “But if you are still set on going, then when you return to the office, we can sit down together and work out a hand over plan.”

She would act as professionally as she could about all this, do her best to make Hope’s departure a clean, neat one. They would part on good terms. What was done was done.

But before then she’d be doing her all to make Hope see reason. To try and save her.

“I won’t be changing my mind, and I won’t be coming back to the office. My resignation is effective immediately.”

The voice on the other end of the line didn’t sound like Hope. The cold, empty words were not those of the woman Camille had worked with for the past two years. The woman she’d thought she knew.

“Are you…” Camille started before she was abruptly cut off.

“I’ve sent an email. It has all the passwords. Bookings et cetera. All the instructions you need to use my planning system are in an attached document. Last night I prepared and paid my final pay check, along with my bonus. I even submitted the taxes, so it’s all sorted.”

“Are you sure?” pleaded Camille, as the reality of what was happening began to sink in fully.

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