Название: A Brand New Me: The hilarious romantic comedy about one year of first dates
Автор: Shari Low
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежный юмор
isbn: 9780007335022
isbn:
I scanned the biography as quickly as possible, panic now at waist height. Harry, it transpired, was twenty-eight and worked in manufacturing for a fabricated panels company, and enjoyed reading, sport and socialising in his spare time. Panic was now competing with thudding heart. It was one thing mortally dreading this whole project, but I was even higher on the terror scale now that it was a reality.
Harry. Leni and Harry. Harry and Leni. Nope, wasn’t feeling it. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t. Very attractive sweat bubbles popped up on the palms of my hands to keep the nausea in my gut company. I wondered if I could get my old job back?
‘Ah, you found it then,’ Zara observed as she hovered over me. ‘We thought he looked like a nice chap. He’s a Leo.’
I wanted to add, ‘Who could also be running late for a meeting with his probation officer.’ I kept it to myself.
‘Now, as I’ve explained before, I’ve devised a new way of reading the stars that will revolutionise the current stereotypes that modern astrology holds for each sign–so I’m not going to give you any advice or background on his astrological character traits before the date. I want you to go in there with no expectations or knowledge whatsoever.’
I presumed that she meant no expectations other than the two I already had. Number one: if Harry had time to send his dating profile in to a telly show then he probably wasn’t beating potential girlfriends off with his love-stick; and number two: fear would kill me before I got there anyway.
‘Now, you have to leave absolutely everything on the date up to him–where you meet, where you go, what you do.’
There went my plan to have a quick drink and then leave–out of the pub’s bathroom window.
She thrust a sheet of A4 paper in front of me.
‘And we do have a few guidelines we’d like you to follow. Obviously you are representing the Delta brand, so we expect you to behave in a manner that won’t reflect badly on us.’
I had to really focus to stop my eyes rolling. This was the woman who had decided to illustrate her femininity by painting the huge canvas that hung in the hallway with her nipples. She had made a client cry last week when she’d told her that her missing Chihuahua had gone to the big kennel in the sky. And she charged celebrities up to three times the going rate. Yet she was concerned that my behaviour would reflect badly on her? Shit, she was looking at me with a really weird expression. Quick, nice things! Think nice things. Bloody, bloody bugger! It was bad enough having to go through with this mad, crazy notion without the constant bloody worry that Zara was reading my mind!
I couldn’t do this. Right now, I just wanted to put my head between my legs and wait for the terror to subside. I had a sudden urge to pen my own autobiographical, inspirational guide that others could learn from: Feel the Fear…then Shake Until Your Nose Bleeds.
‘Now, are you sure that you’re up to the challenge, Leni? Conn and I had a chat and we absolutely realise that this is a rather unusual requirement, so we thought that a bonus of two hundred pounds per night was appropriate, plus of course we’ll pay for all your expenses including transport there and back.’
Urgh, it really annoyed me that she thought I could be bought. I had morals! I had values! And I had a student loan/overdraft combo that was currently sitting at a couple of thousand pounds and could be wiped out by these lovely two-hundred-pound bonuses.
It was decision time. Two choices. Quit or go through with it. Quit. Go through with it. Quit. Quit. My opinions and concerns rose to a crescendo, and were then silenced by a thundering mental roar of Trish’s voice demanding that I pull myself together. I had to do this. I couldn’t quit after just a few weeks–where would that leave me? In the dole queue, skint, and thoroughly depressed that I’d let the prospect of twelve perfectly harmless evenings (with potentially axe-wielding maniacs) deprive me of the most interesting and lucrative job I’d ever had. Deep breath. Deep breath. And for the 243rd time in recent weeks, a silent vow of, ‘I can do this.’
‘Nope, it’s fine–I’m definitely up for the challenge,’ I assured her with an accompanying rallying sweep of my arm for added effect. I could do this (number 244).
‘We’ll also be providing the gent with a hundred pounds to spend–although he can of course exceed this amount at his own expense. You can withdraw the money from our petty cash account and courier it over to him on the afternoon of the date, together with a confidentiality agreement similar to the one you signed when you started here–saves dealing with the admin side of things when you’re out together.’
Great–now they were actually paying blokes to go out with me and then making him promise to keep it a secret. As if I wasn’t already at an all-time low, a thousand pounds of Semtex just attached itself to my ego and self-detonated.
Zara swept off to her first appointment and I slumped at my tree stump, the list sitting there like a death warrant waiting to be executed.
There were ten points on it, in bold, cold black and white:
1 A comprehensive report must be written after each meeting (template to follow).
2 To ensure that the session is as spontaneous as possible, the candidate is not to be prompted, prepared or manipulated in any way.
3 Each meeting must last several hours, the content of which to be decided entirely by the candidate.
4 Details of this project and of candidates must not be discussed with anyone outside Delta Inc.
5 Physical contact with candidates should not be initiated.
6 Any physical contact initiated by candidate should be rejected but noted to be used in analysis.
7 To preserve the integrity and atmosphere of each date, direct questioning should be avoided. However, during the course of the evening, as much information as possible on previous dating history should be attained. Family and work history should also be attained.
8 No personal information, contact details, company material or discussions should be shared with the candidate.
9 Post-date contact with any candidate is strictly forbidden.
10 Project deadline: 31 May.
I reached for the phone and punched in Trish’s number. She answered on the first ring.
‘I officially want to kill myself,’ I blurted, before she could pipe in with anything as mundane as ‘Hello’.
‘Dollface, I love you madly but I’ve got twenty minutes to rustle up a butterscotch and raspberry cheesecake out of no-fucking-where because that demented twat chef on the cookery slot came in pissed again and dropped the fucking dessert. Thank fuck it’s pre-recorded. So, what’s up?’
Did I mention that Trish is in training for the next Olympics? She’s competing in the highly demanding category known as ‘repetitions of the word “fuck”’. So far only Gordon Ramsay, Billy Connolly and a few successful porn stars are her major threats.
‘It’s this whole dating thing, it’s totally freaking me out.’
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