Mix-Up under the Mistletoe (Glenbriar #11)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Tilly

Monday, December 23 rd

Afternoon

H arsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as Tilly sat at her desk in the 1-Quick Getaways office in London. She massaged her forehead, feeling a migraine fast approaching. She’d been here all morning, her nerves coiling like springs. Arnie still hadn’t called her. Everyone seemed to be avoiding looking at her or talking to her. The Christmas spirit had been sucked from the building and everything was grey and miserable. Would anyone even notice if she packed her bags and walked? How easy would that be? But she wanted to face the music before she made her last curtain call.

Staring at her computer screen, she tried to remember what she’d been working on before going to Scotland. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem remotely worthwhile now, but she should at least pretend to be busy. If she didn’t, she’d probably fall asleep. The thought forced out a yawn, and she stifled it. She’d had some sleep last night despite thinking she wouldn’t, but not enough. The exhaustion inside her was chronic and seemed almost unrelated to sleep. This office was draining the life from her.

Finally, an admin assistant scuttled up to her desk and muttered that Arnie was ready to see her. So much for this early morning meeting she’d bust a gut to get here for. Twelve-thirty-seven displayed on the computer clock. That summed up the way this place worked. Tilly squared her shoulders as she stood and approached the partially open door.

Arnie sat behind his sleek desk, brows furrowed, and eyes fixed on his computer screen. Mitchell occupied another chair opposite; he folded his arms and didn’t meet her gaze either. How could it be that this time last week he’d been her limerent object? Rafe would never rudely ignore her like that. He and his family had been the most welcoming people she’d ever met. They were the reason she’d made a life-changing decision that morning. Barely off the train, she’d booked a seat for the return journey later. The woman at the booking office had proudly told her she’d got the last one and was very lucky as a cancellation had just that minute come in.

Luck? Or the miracle of Christmas. Tilly was coming round to the latter.

Keep a tight hold on that magic now! She had to, or she’d sink into the overpowering gloom of this office.

‘Sit down, Tilly.’ Arnie didn’t even bother to look up from his screen.

Tilly took a seat, glancing at Mitchell, who picked at his cuff, focusing all his attention on it. Why wouldn’t he even look her in the eye? What was he thinking? She furrowed her brow, pushing her brain back to their last conversation. He’d been cheery then, pushing her to travel north and meet Rafe. She’d done what he suggested. Was he worried she’d got so much info on Innova she’d be a challenge to him? He was in for a shock if he did. The trip had been wasted if that was the goal.

Tilly steadied her breathing. Her heart raced, even though she’d prepped her mind on what she was going to say. Actually doing it was another matter.

Arnie sighed, finally looking up. ‘I hope you understand the severity of the situation. Your little escapade to the countryside was not only unprofessional but utterly unacceptable.’

Tilly swallowed hard, her throat dry. ‘I understand.’

‘Are you sure?’ Arnie scoffed. ‘Because it calls into question your professionalism and responsibility. You represent this company, and your actions reflect on all of us.’

‘Hmm,’ she said.

‘Mitchell informs me he advised you against the trip.’

Mitchell shifted a little in his seat, and Tilly gave him a brief glance. He said what? So this was his game. He was trying to distance himself from her actions. Obviously paranoid about his own job. Or perhaps he’d always known the mission would fail, and she’d come out looking bad, while he remained the star at the top of the Christmas tree.

‘And what’s this about you basing your whole trip on a photograph in the Innova-Travel office? You were very lucky to even find the right place. Such a foolhardy move.’ Arnie tapped his pen on the desk, and Tilly returned her attention to him. What a horrible sceptical tone of voice he was using when talking to her. She almost laughed. If she was a detective, she’d surely have got full marks. But he also had a point. How ridiculous had she been chasing Rafe with so little to go on? Maybe this just added more fuel to Genevieve’s idea that this was fate. She was fast becoming a believer, but she was also remembering the woman on the train’s words.

You are in control; you decide what’s right for you.

That was what she was doing right now.

‘Well?’ Arnie said. ‘Do you have anything to say?’

Mitchell caught her eye, even though she got the feeling he hadn’t meant to. His cheeks reddened slightly. How could he sit there and lie about her? Did he expect her just to go along with his version of the story? Normally she would. She hated rocking the boat, and always did what she was told. But things had changed.

‘You recall,’ he said. ‘How I mentioned that picture might not even have been his house.’

Could he be any smarmier? What had she ever seen in him? All he was doing was covering his back and trying to get higher up the career ladder. Good luck to him. Tilly had wasted years in this place. Her promotion chances were now out the window, but it didn’t matter because she’d be following them soon… straight out the nearest one!

Arnie’s gaze shifted between Mitchell and her. ‘Perhaps it was my fault for choosing you to do this job. Clearly you weren’t up to the task.’

‘Apparently not,’ Tilly said. ‘Although Mitchell’s version of the story is not accurate.’

‘Pardon?’ Arnie frowned.

‘Come on, Tilly. You know what I said.’ Mitchell’s tone was now whiney and annoying.

‘Yes, I do. You said it was a great idea and I should try. That it was exactly the right way to show initiative and approach Rafe Harrington informally. Even when I had my doubts, you pushed me to do it.’

He gave a twitchy little shrug, half glancing at Arnie and clearly attempting to pull a she’s crazy face. ‘That’s how you remember it, but it wasn’t like that. You were desperate to go and nothing I said could have stopped you.’

Not true. If he’d said not to attempt it, she wouldn’t have. Maybe she should thank him. Without his push, she’d never have met Rafe. ‘I believe Rafe Harrington himself has emailed you on the subject.’ Tilly refocused on Arnie.

‘Indeed,’ Arnie said. ‘He did, and that also worries me. I know him to be stubborn in business and yet somehow you not only get a private meeting with him, you get snowed in with him and then he writes an email about you as though you’re old friends. None of it sits well with me.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘Well,’ Mitchell said, as though he’d scored a point. ‘It kind of begs the question: did you already know where he lived? And if that was the case, what is your real goal?’

‘It smells of gross misconduct,’ Arnie added. ‘Did you pass any information to him about us?’

Heat flared in Tilly’s cheeks. ‘You’re talking to me about misconduct?’ She hated conflict and would much rather run away, but adrenaline was pumping through her veins, pushing her to say her piece. ‘How can you make accusations like that? I did exactly as Mitchell suggested. He had previous success with his underhand methods, so I stupidly thought doing the same would give me a step up in here.’

‘None of our methods should be underhand,’ Arnie said. ‘I think you both need to go back to some grassroots training. Mitchell, I need to talk to you further. Tilly, you can consider this a formal warning. Any more slip-ups, and there will be consequences. You may find you no longer have a job here.’

Tilly smiled, and the action caught Mitchell’s attention. He gaped at her like she’d grown an extra head, obviously unable to imagine why she’d be smiling.

‘That’s absolutely fine.’ She pushed her chair back and stood. ‘Because you know what? I don’t need to be here. I don’t need a job with such poor management and low standards, where lying and sneaking is common practice. I’ve given my best to this company for years, taking on extra tasks without extra pay. And what do I get in return? A formal warning for doing what I was advised to and trying to show some initiative.’

Arnie opened his mouth to interrupt, but Tilly raised a hand, silencing him.

‘I’ve toed the line for years, never put a foot wrong, never questioned anything. I’ve done nothing but try my best and work hard. I’ve watched others climb the ladder while I stayed stuck in the same position, but got more and more work piled onto me. And you can’t even cut me a bit of slack when I get snowed in. You have no idea how much trouble and pain it caused trying to get here in time this morning. But it doesn’t even matter, because now I’m here I want to tell you to your face. You can keep your warning and your job. I quit.’

Mitchell’s jaw dropped. Tilly turned to him. ‘Good luck clawing your way to the top. I hope you enjoy the view and don’t fall off and break any bones.’

She turned back to Arnie. ‘Oh, and before I go, let me set the record straight on something else. I didn’t give Rafe Harrington information about this company because, really, what would be the point? His business skills are light years ahead of everyone here; there’s nothing he’d want to steal from 1-Quick. And not only that, he showed me that he believed in me and my ideas. He’s given me an opportunity, a chance to pitch a new idea to him at Innova-Travel. A chance for a fresh start, something I’ll never get here.’

Mitchell’s lip curled into a sneer. ‘You think Rafe Harrington is going to hire you just like that?’

‘I didn’t say he was going to hire me, but if he listens to me, it’s better than whatever 1-Quick has ever offered me. I’d rather take my chances than continue here.’

‘Now wait a second,’ Arnie said.

‘No can do.’ Tilly pushed the chair under the desk, her heart pounding. ‘I’ve got a train to catch. Merry Christmas.’ She headed straight for the door.

She didn’t look at anyone in the office as she collected her red coat and bag from her desk. They might as well think she’d just stepped out for lunch. Arnie and Mitchell could tell anyone who was interested that she wasn’t coming back.

As she stepped into the crisp December air outside the office, a weight lifted from her shoulders, and she let out a nervous laugh. Stepping into the unknown was risky for sure, yet it also held an undeniable excitement. For the first time in forever, she wouldn’t have to do it alone. She had friends; she had Rafe, and she had his family. Her heart wanted Rafe for everything, but even if she could keep him as a friend, it would be better than anything she’d had before.

With a deep breath, she checked her phone. She still had time to get to her flat, pack more clothes, and then return to Euston. The thought of yet another ride on that train should fill her with dread, but it didn’t.

The streets around her office had never looked so beautiful. Festive displays made her smile, and she grinned stupidly at people in the station and on the tube on the way back to her flat. She got several funny looks as well as the usual non-eye-contact. Here she was on a Monday, going back to her flat in the middle of the afternoon, which in itself felt all levels of wrong. As she looked out of the windows at the passing houses and blocks of flats, she no longer felt the burning desire to join them in their dollhouse worlds. There was only one family she wanted to be with this Christmas, and she was almost certain they’d welcome her with open arms.

A slight niggle had wormed its way into her by the time she reached her flat. Was it possible the Harringtons were just really polite people, and she was no one special to them? What if she went all the way back only to discover she was just a Christmas inconvenience? What if they were all actually delighted she’d gone and they could celebrate Christmas in peace?

Oh god.

She climbed the stairs to her flat, surprised at the lack of music from the people downstairs. Was this just one big mistake? Might she soon be jobless and homeless? Were the family she’d pinned everything on nothing but an unreachable star that would fade away as soon as Christmas was done?

She opened her door, went straight to the living room, and threw herself onto the sofa. The Christmas miracle was losing its shine. Her head was muddled and her thoughts mixed up liked tinsel tangled around a tree. If ever she needed a sign, something to tell her this was real, it was now. But nothing happened.

She’d had messages from Genevieve and Cressida. The words were sweet and kind, but it was hard to know how they were intended. Maybe they were just holding up their end of the messaging bargain for a short while before it fizzled out completely.

Am I just really stupid?

She got up and wheeled her case into her bedroom. Was there any point in packing and making the long journey back to Scotland? Maybe she’d be better just staying here and looking for new jobs.

Her laptop was out of charge, and she plugged it in before getting undressed. She really needed a good wash to rinse off the travel feeling. Her shower was old-fashioned and clunky compared to the luxury of the Harrington’s house, but it did the job of making her smell fresh as a daisy again.

With a towel wrapped around her, she returned to her room, still not sure what to do. Her phone flashed, and she lifted it.

RAFE: Hey. How did you get on with your boss? I’m really gutted you’ll miss Christmas with us… We all are. Nobody quite as much as me. I’d love to work with you in the new year, but there’s so much more. I didn’t want to be too forward or too fast, but all I know right now is that my heart hurts so much without you. xx

Tears pricked behind Tilly’s eyes. She blinked them back and smiled. That was the sign she’d been waiting for. She was going back to Scotland.