Page 55 of Little Miss Fortune

He smells so good. This is fucked up.

‘It doesn’t matter what I want.’

‘What if that’s the only thing that matters to me?’

Fuck. What the fuck is happening?

If anyone were to walk through the door right now, would it look from that angle as if Toby’s lips are on mine? Would it look as if I am a willing participant in his hand being on my knee?

‘Toby I can’t. I am boring and sensible.’ I pull away. ‘I like this job, and I want to make things right with my friends. I can’t do it if this is how you and I are.’

Now he pulls away, hurt visible in the drop of his shoulders and dullness of his eyes. But he nods. ‘I don’t want to be the reason.’

He doesn’t explain it, but I understand. He doesn’t want to be the reason my life becomes a mess. Or the reason I blame myself for losing control. Or the reason I will regret my choices. He doesn’t finish his sentence because then it would mean that he is the one shutting this door, when it is clearly me who holds the key to this decision.

This is for the best. This is for the best. This is for the best.

CHAPTER 20

Promise Fuko one thing, Toby... don’t take her home until she’s drunk...

‘You’re firing me?’

‘Putting you on temporary leave.’

Adzo and Steven have cornered me on this bright and early Tuesday morning, before the office was even halfway full, and asked me to follow them. They have informed me that there were three discretions that happened that breach my working terms and conditions:

IT reported that someone tried to log into my phone when I was locked away in Judgement, which is a major security concern—okay, fair.

The jeans man was an important person (and a fucking snake) that needed to be let in regardless of dress code—how was I to know?

Someone posted a picture of John sliding his hand down my back at the event—now that is actually ridiculous.

‘That is actually ridiculous.’ I tell them so, dismissing the photo. ‘He tried to poison me.’

‘It’s not that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, Fukoh,’ Adzo clarifies that any of those things is a firing offence.

‘We are not firing you, Fukoh.’ Steven reassures me that unpaid temporary leave is not the death sentence I think it is at this stage of the internship. ‘We just need to conduct some IT investigations. We will contact you by the end of the week.’

‘We also got some feedback that, despite you being very capable and intelligent, you seem to struggle to ask for help. That’s not how this company operates. We all rely on each other. We need to discuss the next steps with management.’

Their tone is soft, and their eyes are kind. But I can’t help but get angry at the sight of their faces feigning compassion.

‘It’s pronounced Fuko, actually.’ I take my bag and leave the office.

The sweet scent of Adzo’s perfume turns sour, the need to throw up growing inside me. I get my phone out and ask Leon whether he is free to meet me later today.

Leon: Today after work?

Fuko: Yeah. That’s fine. Thank you. I’m sorry.

Leon, despite his disapproval, has been more than willing to talk to me, even called me to check whether I am all right after everything that went on. We tried to meet up twice over the weekend, but something always went wrong.

Something always goes wrong with me.

How am I going to tell Dad that I’ve been fired? He is going to have a massive go, or worse, he will try to cheer me up. I would prefer a massive go. I deserve it.

Leon’s work finishes a lot later than mine. I have what, ten hours to kill?