Page 62 of The Dicktionary Club

I agreed, realising that meant scheduling to launch it the day after Alexander’s event at Kelvingrove.

Katy sniffled. ‘Well, I’m certainly back to dating. And I’ll be reviewing Harry and his chipolata! There’s no more holding off to catch the feels for Katy McIntyre! I want verified dick pics for approval before I start saying the L word ever again!’

Zola laughed. ‘Wow. She’s back!’ She held up her hand for a high-five, and Katy slapped it hard.

‘Oh, I’m back all right and ready to review those bastards!’

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ella

That evening, Zola and Katy left the office while I stayed behind. I was on a roll with Alexander’s campaign and wanted to tick off as much of the organising as possible now that my plan was fresh in my head. I had just spent an hour speaking on FaceTime to Alexander and his PA about my plans and the itinerary of what to expect on the night, and I could tell the pair were finally impressed with my efforts.

I couldn’t help but dream up possible opportunities for the Dicktionary Club, too. I found my mind wandering throughout the day, thinking up new and refreshing online marketing strategies we could create to finally allow the women of Glasgow to take back some control of the dating world. I knew this concept would be unique and, with all of our backgrounds, I really believed we could build a unique business and an escape plan that could potentially free us from Andrea’s hell hole. I wanted to create a better life for myself. I was holding onto the idea of not living in constant fear anymore, that if I made the wrong move on a pitch or a concept, or even left the fucking lights on again, I’d get fired. I was all in and couldn’t wait to smash this campaign, then launch our website.

It was approaching 8 p.m., and I had just emailed over the last of the PR invites to my list of influencers. I’d alsocreated an RSVP document for the guest list, and added a link to Alexander’s and Andrea’s email accounts so they were able to keep tabs on the people attending too. Suddenly everyone seemed to be buzzing. There was certainly a hype around this Royal Ball idea, as the art scene and influencers’ replies filled my inbox in a flurry. The younger millennials and Gen Z crowd seemed especially excited about a promised night of great social media content for their channels.

I was finishing up my late night by sending over the deposit to the funky, classically trained violinists I’d got lined up when I heard footsteps from the hallway.

I froze.

Oh no. This was exactly how young –OK, middle-aged– women got murdered in the movies. The footsteps were getting closer and I stood up from my desk, praying it was just the cleaner doing an extra-thorough job.

What could I grab as a weapon? I turned quickly, looking for anything to pick up. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Then I looked at my heels. At lightning speed, I kicked them off and picked one up.

‘Hello!’ I called out, slowly walking towards the office door, wielding my high heel over my head. ‘Who is it?’ I could feel my breath quicken. ‘I’m phoning the police as we speak. This is private property!’ I warned.

The door suddenly swung open onto the office bull pen, and I leaped towards the figure with my shoe high in the air.

‘JESUS CHRIST!’ a man’s deep voice yelled out.

Standing there with a carrier bag in one hand and a huge bouquet of black roses in the other was Philip Khan. My jaw almost hit the floor with a thud.

‘Philip?’ I managed, entirely out of breath from being ready to defend my life. Slowly, I lowered my arm, the shoe dangling by my side.

‘You scared the crap out of me!’ He was shaken up, the veins on his forehead popping out.

‘I’m sorry, I thought you were .?.?. I don’t know, breaking in or something?’

‘So, you attacked me with a Jimmy Choo?’ He was beginning to chuckle as the situation simmered down a little.

I fucking wish it was a Jimmy Choo, I thought, analysing my Zara classic heel.

‘I called out, you didn’t answer!’ I said defensively, before shakily making my way back towards my desk. Philip followed behind me, and I was aware that I could still feel my pulse pump through me. ‘What are you doing here?’

He approached my station and set down the carrier bag. I could immediately smell the aroma of delicious spices heating the air. ‘Well, apart from being attacked, you mean?’ He smirked. ‘You cancelled dinner, so I brought dinner to you! I thought you might appreciate someone to bounce ideas off too?’

‘Oh .?.?. right. I’ve sort of pitched my idea. It’s all done, and both Alexander and Andrea seem really happy with it.’

Philip stood for a second, thinking up his next move. ‘Well, maybe you’d appreciate some company, perhaps?’

I examined him. It was strange. I wasn’t sure if I felt sorry for him, or if he was a huge player shooting his shot. If a man turned up to the office unannounced for Katy, I knew she’d be humping him in the conference room within fifteen minutes, overcome with gratitude at thesweetgesture. Is that what he expects?

My eyes fell to his hands. ‘Are you attending a funeral after dinner?’ I glanced at the black roses, curious about his choice of flower.

‘No! These are for you. Black roses represent new beginnings.’ He sighed. ‘And, well, death it seems. I thought in regard to your project, it’s a new beginning after all? I wasn’t thinking of the mourning aspect of them.’ He paused. ‘Shit.’ Helooked at the ground briefly, overthinking his gift, then his dark eyes glared up at mine. ‘Did I fuck up?’

I started to laugh, enjoying watching his usual confidence take a wobble. ‘That depends on what food you have going on in there.’

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