Charlotte Phillips - All Bets Are On

The thought of slipping this piece of paper in front of the CEO filled her with dark horror at the way it portrayed her. Not just the Ice-Queen comment, but the very fact her colleagues were betting on her behaviour. All her hard work to build the perfect corporate image obviously hadn’t cut the mustard with her subordinates. All this time she’d been priding herself on the way her colleagues regarded her. But it was clear from this situation that she didn’t command the slightest bit of respect and revealing that to her boss would only diminish her standing even further. It was like school all over again, picking your way through the years, trying to keep your head below the parapet so you didn’t attract any unwanted attention.

Tilly pursed her lips, considering.

‘You have a point. Plus you don’t want the hideous creeps to think they’ve got to you.’

‘Which they haven’t.’ Alice pointed the wooden spoon emphatically at Tilly, then went back to stirring the chilli con carne.

‘’Course they haven’t, honey. So instead you handle this the only way you can.’

‘Which is?’

‘You have to see it as a sign, use it to your own advantage.’ She waved her fingers in the air in an all-encompassing gesture.

Alice tried not to roll her eyes in exasperation. Did she have to put a mystic slant on everything?

‘For Pete’s sake, Tilly, don’t ask me to see this as some kind of karma, some fatalistic indication from the gods.’

‘Everything happens for a reason,’ Tilly countered.

Alice sighed.

‘OK, then, a sign of what?’

‘That you need to actually do that thing you’re always talking about but never do.’

‘Which is?’

Tilly leaned forward. ‘Get back out there. This whole bet is based on the fact you never so much as go for a drink with a guy. Ever. They see you as some power-suited, uptight workaholic. That’s what they’ve latched on to—that’s the stick they’re beating you with. Well, you’ve licked your wounds long enough. Get back on that dating horse, Ice-Queen, and prove that moronic bunch wrong. Stop procrastinating and go out with this guy from work.’

She folded her arms triumphantly. There were times when Alice wondered how on earth she and Tilly could be such good friends.

‘I’m not ready,’ she protested.

‘You never are. But that’s OK, there is one other option.’

Alice brightened immediately.

‘What’s that?’

‘You could become a nun.’

‘Very funny.’

‘Look, you’ve said you want a family one day. That means at some point you’re going to have to bite the bullet and date again. It might as well be now. This could be just the push you need. And this guy, this Harry, asked you out today.’ She shrugged. ‘So go out with him.’ She winked at Alice. ‘Or I could have a think if you prefer. Julian’s bound to have a few single mates I could set you up with.’

Tilly’s boyfriend, Julian, was a strict vegan who had actually done that experiment whereby if you ceased washing your hair it would eventually cease needing to be washed. The matted result hadn’t convinced Alice to give up the shampoo and conditioner any time soon.

‘Thanks but Julian’s not...’ She groped for a tactful description.

‘Not really your type?’ Tilly grinned. ‘Then go out with this Harry from the office.’

‘But he’s exactly the kind of guy I wouldn’t touch with a bargepole. He’s broken more hearts than you’ve been to music festivals. Harry Stephens: King of the One-night Stand.’

‘Sounds the perfect foil for an Ice-Queen,’ Tilly said, snatching a bread roll from the worktop. ‘And it certainly sounds like he’s into you.’

Alice frowned.

‘I’m not sure he’s exactly into me, as you so classily put it. He offered me his services. As Serial Dater.’

‘As what?’

Tilly looked mystified and Alice couldn’t really blame her. It did sound ludicrous spoken out loud.

‘When I knocked him back on just going out for a drink, he tried to sell it as helping me back into a social life. I think he sees it as some kind of personal glory trip, like he’s mentoring me or something because I’m obviously socially inept. He’s getting off on it, like some kind of dating fairy godfather.’ She put a hand briefly over her eyes. ‘It’s almost too humiliating—the idea that he thinks I would need his input into my social life.’

‘Well, you do,’ Tilly said around a mouthful of bread. ‘I thought that was a given. And you could do worse. A lot easier to start trying out the nightlife, eyeing up the talent, if you’re on the arm of someone at the...you know...hub of it all. He’ll know all the best places to go. You can really get your confidence up instead of sitting on your own in a corner with a mineral water waiting for someone to approach you. Someone totally unsuitable.’

Alice raised offended eyebrows. Tilly jabbed the roll at her.

‘You do have a bit of a history.’

She had to concede Tilly had a point.

Tilly lobbed the remains of the roll in the bin and hoisted herself up to sit on the counter next to the hob.

‘Go on. It’ll be fun. And after this whole betting debacle, what the hell have you got to lose? Can a couple of dates make you feel more of a loser than you already do?’

‘You’re seriously testing our friendship here, you know.’

‘I’m being honest with you like I always am. That’s why you love me!’

Alice stirred the chilli. She had to admit Tilly had a point. Every second of the rest of the day in the office had passed excruciatingly. The bet swamped her mind and she was filled with frustration, hating the fact that she couldn’t face reporting them. Strong Alice Ford, who ate errant juniors for breakfast, couldn’t take a bunch of men to task for messing about in work time at her expense. She had believed herself stronger, more rebuilt than that, and it had crushed her confidence more than she wanted to admit, even to Tilly.

‘What if he’s in on the bet too? Why else would he want to take me out?’

‘Is it really so impossible to believe that he might just find you attractive?’ Tilly said.

‘I’m not the usual kind of girl he goes for.’

Tilly frowned.

‘Maybe he’s upping his game, then. Look, he wasn’t on the list, was he? Are you sure you got a full copy of the names?’

She shook her head.

‘I don’t know... I tore the desk apart looking for a Page Two or, worse, Page Three. That one page is all there was. But I can’t be sure. Even if I asked him he’d deny it.’

Tilly pursed her lips, considering.

‘OK, forget about his motives for a second. Does it even matter whether he’s in on the bet or not? Why not just look at what’s in this for you? Like it or not, you really could do with his input. Don’t you think the insights you could get from dating someone like him, from just watching his behaviour, might be valuable?’

And suddenly there it was.

A flash of inspiration that fell on her like a ton of bricks, a bucket of ice, a jolt of electricity. Not a foolproof way through the minefield that was dating, more an approach to it. One that appealed to her constant desire to be in control, to avoid the pitfalls she’d shown herself to be so susceptible to in the past.

‘Erm, I think that might be burning,’ Tilly said.

Alice suddenly realised the chilli was catching on the bottom and Tilly was staring at her. She shook herself and stirred it vigorously.

‘I could use him to build up a profile,’ she said, thinking out loud.

‘A what?’

She looked at Tilly with sudden excitement.

‘What if I could use him to come up with a behaviour profile? A list of the way players react in certain situations so I can identify that type of man in the future before I get in too deep? I can come up with a list from my own experiences, then test it on Harry. Think about it. Think how much a list like that would have helped me when I was going out with Simon—I would have recognised from the start what kind of man he was and I could have kicked him into touch way before any damage was done.’ And saved myself a whole lot of grief.