It May Rain

Chapter Eight

I didn't think it was possible, but there's an even frostier atmosphere in the office this afternoon. The presence of Hugo seems to have increased the tension in the air twofold. I've also noticed that the dirty looks Chantelle usually only reserves for me are also being directed towards Hugo too.

And then a thought crosses my mind.

On Wednesday she was all over Hugo. She obviously felt something for him and wanted him for herself, so does she somehow see me as a potential love rival? Is that the reason for the sudden hostility to me? But she invited me to go for drinks with them, so she didn't see me as a threat up until then.

The turning point must have happened later that evening, because the next morning she was shooting daggers at me. But if she sees me as a rival, that doesn't explain why she's also giving Hugo dirty looks now too.

And then it hits me like a train.

She must know about the Christmas one night stand we had. It's the only explanation for her behaviour towards both me and Hugo. And the only way she could have found out is if Hugo told her, because I've made damn sure not to mention it to anyone else in the office.

Now I've put the puzzle pieces together it's almost laughable that that's the reason for her contempt towards me.

Perhaps she thinks I have some kind of hold over him. Is that what Hugo meant when he made a point of telling me they were just friends? Something must have happened last night between them, and now she's a woman scorned who's directing her anger at me.

Speaking of which, I could well and truly direct all my anger at Hugo right now. Why on earth did he mention our unremarkable one night stand to her? And who knows who else she might blab to. For all I know, I bet Jacko is already aware of it going by her track record for snitching on me.

I see Hugo coming out of Jacko's office, all smiles and full of his usual nonsensical chatter. He's wearing a bow tie and a waistcoat, which appears to be the only outfit he ever wears. He walks out the room and must be on his way to the toilets in the corridor outside.

Like a coil spring, I jump out of my chair and swiftly follow him. I soon catch up with him and drag him by his arm to a nearby store room. It's full of unused packaging that we use for training purposes, as well as other bits and bobs. I slam him into a tower of cardboard boxes.

"Hey, hey, steady on! You'll have my arm off if you keep going."

"Did you tell Chantelle about us?" I seethe.

"No!" he exclaims.

His eyes are wide, like he's afraid I'm about to eat him alive.

I loosen my grip and immediately feel embarrassed at my fit of uncontrolled anger. I've gotten it all wrong, and I've just invented an entire scenario in my head.

Why do I always have to react so impulsively?

"I mean, not in so many words. But it did come up in conversation, and it was too late to just deny it," he carries on.

"What is that supposed to mean? You either did or you did not tell her."

He twists his lips and nervously plays with his hair.

"I er, I made a mistake. I said something to her I didn't mean to say that night we left the bar together."

"Like what?" I snap.

"Look, before I tell you, please promise not to say anything to her? I don't think she'll take it very well if you bring it up."

"Don't say anything! You mean in the same way you didn't say anything about what happened between us?"