Page 32 of Tilly in Technicolor
I’d like to say:No, Amina, I’m not feeling alright at all. In fact, I think I’ve gone absolutely mental because I almost just kissed a girl I’m not sure I evenlikewho also happens to be my boss’s little sister. In less than a week, she has destroyed my sleep schedule, invaded my brain, and caused me more physical and emotional turmoil than I’ve ever before experienced. And, wouldn’t you know, I still have a good two months of traveling around this bloody continent with her.
I don’t say any of this, of course, instead choosing to cough and then busy myself by pretending to organize my backpack.
Tilly, breaker of all silences that she is, pipes up. “She called you ‘Ollie,’” she says, pointing a finger between me and Amina. “I really like that. Can I call you that?”
I make a noncommittal shrug, keeping my eyes fixed on the ugly duvet. I’m scared if I look at her, my face will burst into flames all over again.
“Ollie,” she repeats, drawing out the syllables. “Ollie.”
Before I can even process the thought, words go flying out of my mouth. “I like the way you say it. Please call me Ollie.”
This is true, Idolike the way she says it—the only person that calls me Ollie is Cubby and she always says it with that exasperated sister-tone that makes me roll my eyes—but I wish I hadn’t been so mortifyingly honest about it.
Silence rings in the suite for a moment longer, and I need to get out of here or I’ll… I don’t know, die?
“Goodbye,” I say, nodding at Tilly and almost barreling over Amina as I escape to the door. The click of her heels in the hallway tells me she isn’t far behind.
Out on the street, I gulp down stale, humid air, dropping my head against the wall of our building. Mona’s at the curb, talking on her cell phone as she waits for the car.
Amina’s clacking steps come to a halt next to me. I keep my eyes fixed on the pieces of gum spotting the pavement.
After a moment, she chuckles, the sound good natured and husky. I steal a quick look at her from the corner of my eye.
She’s grinning at me as she shakes her head. “Oh, darling,” she says, patting me on the shoulder. “It’s going to be an interesting summer, isn’t it?”
Chapter 16Worse Still
OLIVER
“Chin up, loves,” Amina says in the taxi back to the hotel a couple hours later. “We’ll get them next time.” It’s a nice sentiment, but the glumness in her voice has me less than convinced. Based on Mona’s scoff, she doesn’t believe it, either.
“That was the single most humiliating experience of my life,” Mona says, lip snarling as she stares out the window.
“Really? Mine was making a drunken advance on my roommate in uni only for her to tell me she, quote, doesn’t like to snack on tacos. Unquote.”
“Amina!” Mona slaps her business partner on the arm, her face a violent shade of red, then glances at me.
It takes me half a moment to figure out what Amina means, and then I equally blush to the roots of my hair. Great, this might bemymost humiliating moment. I pivot my entire body toward the window and stare out.
“Anyway,” Amina says like she didn’t just thoroughly drop an awkward bomb in this small taxi, “fuck ’em. They were a bunch of stodgy old gits that wouldn’t know a good product if it slapped them in the face.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Mona mumbles.
“But I think we need to regroup,” Amina continues. “We take the train to Rome tomorrow, and I say we use that time to zhuzh up the pitch. Reevaluate some metrics and really emphasize the marketing and social media portion.”
I can feel Amina’s glance, and shame trickles down my spine. I may or may not have totally fucked up my part of the pitch. When it was my turn to speak, my brain was still back in the hotel room with Tilly, and I tripped over every point I had intended to make.
“I’ll do better,” I say, tapping my fingers against my side. “Sorry I failed you.”
“Oh darling, no,” Amina says, reaching out and touching my shoulder. “None of that. It’s Mona and I that failedyou.We were fumbling in there for answers to questions we’d never even thought to ask ourselves. You’re wonderful. Our Instagram followers have more than doubled already and we’re seeing spikes in online orders. We all just need to get on the same page and paint it with a detailed picture for the rest of the trip.”
The car pulls up in front of our hotel and we get out, the early summer evening pressing down on us. I shift my camera bag to my other shoulder.
“I know you’re probably tired, Oliver, but I’d like us to get at least a few photos around Milan before we leave tomorrow. We still have a few solid hours of light to take advantage of.” Mona tilts her head back and looks up at our hotel then pulls out her phone, tapping away. “I’ll text Tilly and have her come down to meet us. If I go up there, there’ll be no getting me back out tonight.”
“Right. Great,” I say, fiddling with the strap of my bag. I don’t feel ready to see Tilly again after the weird… moment… or whatever it was in the room earlier. Not like I have much of achoice though, because she comes barreling out of the building a minute later.
“How’d it go?” she asks, looking at each of us with an expectant smile.
