“No.” I scowl at him. “And I don’t want to know.”
“I saw a girl who races to help others but doesn’t help herself. And right now you need to help yourself. No one should walk up the aisle feeling inferior or in a different league or trying to be something they’re not. I don’t know exactly who your issues are with, but … ”
He picks up the phone, clicks a button, and turns the screen to face me.
Fuck.
It’s my list. The list I wrote in the church.
THINGS TO DO BEFORE WEDDING
1. Become expert on Greek philosophy.
2. Memorize Robert Burns poems.
3. Learn long Scrabble words.
4. Remember: am HYPOCHONDRIAC.
5. Beef stroganoff. Get to like. (Hypnosis?)
I feel drenched in embarrassment. This is why people shouldn’t share phones.
“’It’s nothing to do with you,” I mutter, staring at the table.
“I know,” he says gently. “I also know that standing up for yourself can be hard. But you have to do it. You have to get it out there. Before the wedding.”
I’m silent a minute or two. I can’t bear him to be right. But deep down inside me, everything he’s saying is feeling true. Like Tetris blocks falling one by one into place.
I let my bag drop down onto the table and rub my nose. Sam patiently waits while I get my thoughts in order.
“It’s all very well you telling me that,” I say finally. “It’s all very well saying ‘get it out there.’ What am I supposed to say to them?”
“ ‘Them’ being …”
“I dunno. His parents, I guess.”
I suddenly feel disloyal, talking about Magnus’s family behind his back. But it’s a bit late for that.
Sam doesn’t hesitate for a minute.
“You say, ‘Mr. and Mrs. Tavish, you’re making me feel inferior. Do you really think I’m inferior or is this just in my mind?’ ”
“What planet do you live on?” I stare at him. “I can’t say that! People don’t say things like that!”
Sam laughs. “Do you know what I’m about to do this afternoon? I’m about to tell an industry CEO that he doesn’t work hard enough, that he’s alienating his fellow board members, and that his personal hygiene is becoming a management issue.”
“Oh my God.” I’m cringing at the thought. “No way.”
“It’s going to be fine,” says Sam calmly. “I’ll take him through, point by point, and by the end he’ll be agreeing with me. It’s just technique and confidence. Awkward conversations are kind of my specialism. I learned a lot from Nick,” he adds. “He can tell people that their company is a pile of shit, and they lap out of his hand. Or even that their country is a pile of shit.”
“Wow.” I’m a bit awestruck.
“Come and sit in on the meeting. If you’re not busy. There’ll be a couple of other people.”
“Really?”
He shrugs. “It’s how you learn.”
I had no idea you could be a specialist at awkward conversations. I’m trying to picture myself telling someone that their personal hygiene is an issue. I can’t imagine finding the words to do that in a million years.
Oh, come on. I have to see this.
“OK!” I find myself smiling. “I will. Thanks.”
He hasn’t picked up the phone, I suddenly notice. It’s still lying on the table.
“So … shall I bring this along to your office?” I say casually.
“Sure.” He’s shrugging on his jacket. “Thanks.”
Excellent. I get to check my texts again. Result!
72 soup, duck, etc. Which I know looks all cool and streamlined, but what sort of soup? What sort of duck?
73 Isn’t that illegal? What if I wanted to pay in dollars? Would they have to let me?
74 OK, this is ridiculous. You write a menu which no one understands and then you pay someone to explain it.
75 Why are all her suppliers in such odd places? Whenever I ask her, she talks vaguely about sourcing. Ruby reckons it’s so she can charge more for driving hours.
76 Magnus was a gasper. Then he gripped me tight between both hands and said he’d known I was vulnerable and that just added to my beauty.
10
It must be so amazing to work in a place like this. Everything about Sam’s building is a novelty to me—from the massive escalator to the whizzy lifts to the laminated card with my photo on it, which got made by a machine in about three seconds. When visitors come to First Fit Physio, we just sign them in with a book from Staples.
We go up to the sixteenth floor and along a corridor with a bright green carpet, black-and-white photos of London on the wall, and funky seating in random shapes. On the right are individual glass-fronted offices, and on the left is a big open-plan area with multicolored desks. Everything here is so cool. There’s a water machine, like we have, but there’s also a coffee station with a real Nespresso machine and a Smeg fridge and a massive bowl of fruit.
