Page 94 of Fling

‘Wouldn’t you like to know,’ Tara said, trying to hurt him.

‘You’re awfully dolled up for someone who’s about to go to work,’ he said, looking her up and down. ‘It looks like you’re going on a date.’

‘Maybe I am,’ Tara said, twisting the knife.

‘You’re only saying that to hurt me,’ Colin said, refusing to believe it. He was right, but Tara didn’t want him to know that.

‘Believe whatever you want. Either way, I’m not having this conversation,’ she said, putting her handbag over her shoulder. She walked out of the kitchen with her head held high. She wasn’t about to let Colin ruin this day.

Colin heard the front door slam as Tara stormed out. Surely she was bluffing. There was no way she was going to have an affair. Then again, he had thought she was bluffing when she confronted him about his own affair and he had been dead wrong. And she did look incredibly glamorous for just a regular Monday at the office. Who was she trying to impress? He sat back down to eat his cereal.

Colin suddenly heard a beeping sound in the kitchen that wasn’t coming from his phone. He looked around to see Tara’s tablet vibrating and lighting-up on the kitchen counter. Colin walked over to mute it but when he got closer, he was shocked by the notification he saw on the screen.

TODAY AT 12 P.M.: DICK APPOINTMENT

AL FRESCO, DUBLIN

Colin was in complete and utter shock. There was only one possible explanation he could think of. Tara wasn’t bluffing. She actually was having an affair. It all made sense now. Disappearing for the entire weekend. Sneaking home in the middle of the night. Getting all dolled up for work. And now, a DICK APPOINTMENT in her calendar. She used to schedule reminders for SEX with Colin in her calendar when she was ovulating. But scheduling an affair! It was obscene.

Who did Tara think she was? Was she really that hell-bent on revenge that she would sleep with someone out of spite? Or worse, did she have feelings for this man? Was she planning on leaving him?

Colin felt short of breath. He had heard Rory use the term ‘dick appointment’ before and he knew it meant a casual hook-up, nothing serious. Colin didn’t know the next plan of action, but he knew Rory would have a strategy.

Emily was waiting for Tara when she strutted into the office.

‘Oh my God,’ Emily said, seeing how well she looked. ‘I feel like I should throw money at you.’

‘It’s not too much, is it?’ Tara said, referring to the dress.

‘Of course not. I mean, you’re pitching a campaign for an infidelity app. You have to look the part. You have to become the Anti-Mary.’ Emily smiled.

‘That’s exactly what I was thinking,’ Tara said, feeling reassured. She put her handbag down on her desk and took a seat. ‘I found the slogan by the way. “Every flower deserves to bloom.” What do you think?’

‘Sexy and poetic; I like it,’ Emily said.

‘I made the changes this morning. Actually, would you mind proofreading my presentation?’

‘Tara, in that outfit, I don’t think Dick is going to notice any typos in your pitch deck,’ Emily teased.

‘Don’t be silly – Dick is only interested in my idea. He has no interest in me,’ Tara said, brushing off the notion.

‘Still, isn’t it strange that he insisted on you pitching to him over lunch instead of here in the office like the Lads did?’ Emily asked, slightly concerned.

‘It’s a little . . . unusual, I suppose. But in a way, it’s better. More casual, less pressure. You can deliver the pitch with me if you want?’ Tara said.

‘Me, pitch something? With my anxiety? I’d rather take a bath with a toaster,’ Emily said, deadpan.

‘OK, but will you please still proofread my presentation? You know I seldom ask you to do your job,’ Tara said, guilt-tripping her.

‘Fine, give me your tablet,’ Emily whined.

‘Thanks, Emily,’ Tara said, reaching into her handbag. She rooted around for five seconds until the penny finally dropped. Her face turned pale as a ghost. She had left her tablet charging on her kitchen table.

‘Oh my God,’ Tara said. ‘I FORGOT MY TABLET! I can’t give Dick the pitch without my slides!’ She began to pace around her office, hyperventilating.

‘Relax. When’s the last time you saved it?’ Emily asked.

‘This morning. When I made my final changes,’ Tara said, gasping for air.

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