so, do we like each other or not? // JENLISA

Chapter 8

On Monday, Lisa found that she’d fallen into a dangerous new habit. It was something she only realised when she went to Google Jennie's name and it came up as one of her most-searched terms.

She ignored that fact and ploughed ahead, even though she knew it was a mostly fruitless exercise. Jennie's online presence was nearly non-existent: while everyone in the art world seemed to know her name, and it sprung up on most critics’ websites like a sprinkle of magic dust, photos of her were minimal. She’d never once given an interview, she managed to avoid the press unless she was cornered for a group photo, and even though she proudly attached her name to her clients like it was a shiny gold star, she otherwise kept herself quiet. It seemed that maintaining an air of mystery was yet another thing she was great at, and Lisa had to marvel at the way she used privacy to her advantage: everyone was fascinated by her, and everyone wanted a piece of her. And so, just like that, Jennie had positioned herself firmly at the top of her game.

Still, there were a few photos for Lisa to look at, and she shamelessly did so most mornings. There was something about the confident pout of Jennie’s lips that made her feel ready to take on the world.

Then her work phone started ringing and she frantically closed the window like she was about to get in trouble.

“Hello?”

“Lisa, there’s a courier on his way up for you.” She recognised the bored voice as belonging to the receptionist three floors down.

“Okay,” Lisa said, finally deciding to wipe her internet Losl. 

“He said he was only allowed to speak to you. He made me describe you to him,” the woman continued. Lisa frowned. “Which I thought was a bit weird. Do you have some secret manuscript coming in?”

“Yep,” Lisa said, quick as a flash. “I’ll meet him at the elevator. Thanks.”

She put the phone down and hurried across the office, spotting a flash of purple and black uniform through the slowly opening metal doors. “Hey.”

“Lisa Manoban?” the man asked, eyeing her suspiciously. 

“That’s me,” she said, looking around and spotting an empty meeting room. “Let’s go in there.”

“You got ID?”

Lisa turned back to him and blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so.”

After rummaging about in her jeans for a second, Lisa produced the work ID that she refused to hang anywhere on her body in case someone saw the same perky photo that Jennie had tracked down on the Caterpillar website. “Is this good enough?”

He inspected it and nodded, finally allowing her to lead him into the meeting room. Lisa momentarily cursed the office for its obsession with totally clear glass walls: without even looking around, she could tell that Cherin was watching her from across the room.

As they sat down, the man said, “So, my boss got yelled at for 30 minutes this morning until we agreed to do this.”

If Lisa had had any lingering doubts over who this package was from, they were gone now. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“I have to get you to sign the delivery form,” he said before opening his messenger bag and pulling out two envelopes. One was thin, but the other bulged promisingly. Lisa was sickened with herself when she felt her mouth start watering. “Then there’s a contract that you need to sign in duplicate so I can deliver it back again. And I can’t leave until you’ve done that.”