Paperwork || c.h z.m {slow updates}

5. Called in Sick

On Wednesday Calum didn’t show up which was and wasn’t expected. It didn’t faze me much considering I would have had to have had lunch without him anyway because he left before lunch on Wednesdays. But it wasn’t expected because David had apparently wanted to discuss some business stuff with him (something about certified public accountants). Me being the secretary, I was the one who had to call him up and find out where he was.

By now it was half past nine and David was getting impatient.

It wasn’t until the third ring that Zayn walked into the building. Normally he’d show up around now, so it didn’t surprise me, but what did however was that as he passed by my desk he placed down a rose, smirking at me and continuing on. I was absolutely speechless, right when Calum picked up the phone.

“Hello? Who is this?” His voice was sleepy and sluggish, possibly drunk.

I stammered a moment, forgetting what to say. “I-I-I hi. Hi Calum.” Compose yourself! “Calum,” better. “Hi, this is Cassie calling from Red Umbrella Records. David’s wondering where you are.” I left out the part about how I was as well.

“Oh.” There was a long pause and I’d wondered if he’d hung up on me. “Yeah ah, can I call in sick? Am I allowed to do that... as a client?” He asked.

If he was hungover that would be a rather weak move to stay home the following day. I’d never met a man who couldn’t hold his liquor very well-correction; Alfie wasn’t the best at drinking to the extent that Sarah could drink more than he could before getting absolutely wasted.

“I don’t know. But if you’re sick then please do take the time to get better. Nobody wants you coming into work sick.” I pointed out, noting down in the day-to-a-page diary that Calum was away.

He half-heartedly laughed before his voice just dropped completely. “I’m sick per se, I just... had a bit too much to drink last night. Is that feasible?”

No. “Can I write down that you have a stomach bug?”

“Umm, sure. That sounds much more believable.”

Drunkenness is just inexcusable. “Yes it does. Shall I move your meeting with David to tomorrow then?”

“Whatever time suits him really.” Calum agreed shabbily.

“Great. Tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. I’ll see you then.” And I hung up.

David had been rather impatiently waiting in the meeting room while I was on the phone. Over the intercom I voiced the message that I’d written down, not mentioning the actual fact that he was just effeminate when it came to drinking. In other words he shouldn’t be drinking at all if he wasn’t going to be responsible about it.

I caught a look back at the rose Zayn had left on my desk.

The rose was gorgeous, and a gesture such as that - single, red rose - was considerably romantic. But he was too unlike that to do something with such affection with motive of romantic gesture alone. He’d already exhibited that he only did things that he got a return on; such as when I helped him unpack his car, he was looking at my ass; and in the elevator when he was checking my out rather shamelessly if I might add to his list of things he did for his own benefit. 

At eleven I got up to go and get the coffees from the cafe, but realised that I only had one pair of hands instead of two. Normally I wasn’t the clumsiest at the best of times, but I certainly had my moments and right now it would have been really undignified if this was one of them. Then again I couldn’t just ask any of my colleagues to come with me, they all had to work to do and papers to file and emails to write and calls to make etc., etc. 

I made the choice to go by myself and hope for the best. Fingers crossed I didn’t trip over.

As I grabbed the coffee money from the envelope that magically had the money source replenished every time I looked in it, and my handbag to go, Zayn strolled back into the foyer. “Zayn, just the person I wanted to see.” I began, already seeing my way out of this dilemma. 

He frowned at me, confused by why I wanted to see him, but nonetheless not upset that I did either. “What can I do you the pleasure of; other than yourself of course?” He asked flirtatiously. 

“Your sweet talking won’t get you what you want, but I need you to help me get the coffees for the staff.” I explained, bluntly denying him.

“Ah,” he scratched at the back of his neck looking around at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got time.” He flashed his infamous smile at me and I swear my insides melted just a little bit.

It was a boiling hot day, just like the last few had been. Summer was really setting in quickly this year and I didn’t particularly like it; the heat really made me tired and not want to do anything.

“So what are you doing Saturday night?” Zayn asked casually. He had his hands stuffed in his jean pockets. How was he not overheating in those? I was in a sundress and even that felt like a dozen layers of blankets wrapped around me. 

“Mmm, nothing.” I answered.

“You wanna go out for dinner?” Never had I met a guy so open about asking me out; Calum had been nervous and shaky, but cute. This however, was different. It was edgy and unknown. I’d always liked a bit of mystery about a person.

I looked over at him and found that he was looking at me already. More like checking me out. “Dinner sounds great.”

Shit, didn’t I have something else to do on Saturday? But it was during the day, right?

“I’ll pick you up at seven yeah?” 

“Yeah. Oh, do you want my number?” I asked, pulling my phone out of my bag.

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

I kept brushing off his attitude as just that: his attitude. It had nothing to do with him. Except for the face that it’s his. I read my number out to him and he added it to his contacts on his phone.

The whole walk to the coffee house and back, I tried not to look as giddy as I felt. Oh gosh, if I did I probably would have looked like I did in high school; naive, thinking it was love and the biggest smile on my face. I internally cringed at my former self. Thank god high school was over and things had changed. 

*

“I have a date on Saturday.” I cheered at Sarah as I got in the car and she looked at me confusedly and frowned.

“You told me that yesterday?” She questioned, driving out of the car park onto the road.

“What?”

“Yesterday. You told me it was that cute, happy guy. The smiley one.”

You make him sound gay-oh shit. “Did I say Saturday night?” I asked Sarah, hoping for a no.

She nodded her head unfortunately. I grimaced and clasped onto my handbag which was on my lap. “Fuck I’ve just double-booked myself on two dates that I can’t afford to miss.”