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have a strict dress code for staff lower than senior manager, it still shocked Olivia people would think jeans and T-shirt were okay attire. Especially people fighting for their job. Still, she shouldn’t complain. The more they didn’t take this seriously, the better for her.

“What’s up?” Chrissy asked as soon as they were out of Olivia’s earshot.

Jenny tried to keep her expression neutral. “Have you seen what she sent us last night?”

“No, I didn’t log on last night. I was out in the park with my boyfriend.”

“Nice.” Jenny frowned again. “It looks like Olivia was busy. She’s sent us a meeting request for ten this morning.”

“A meeting request?” Chrissy looked confused. “Olivia?”

“Yeah.” Jenny rubbed the back of her neck. It was early days to take sides, but Olivia’s request, or rather, the tone of it, had pissed her off. It could be a mistake complaining about her to Chrissy—for all Jenny knew, she and Olivia were best buddies. But somehow, she doubted it. That frosty “good morning” exchange hadn’t seemed like it was between two people who loved—or even liked—each other. “You know her better than I do, but the tone of it is…well, it’s kind of like she thinks she’s in charge of us or something.”

“What does it say?”

Jenny opened her laptop. The meeting request was open, and she let Chrissy read it over her shoulder.

Dear Colleagues,

 

As you know, we need to start working on Project Catwalk together. It seems there are a variety of tasks we can perform, and it would be best for all of us if we ensured we didn’t overlap. I have therefore designed a schedule and assigned roles, and I’ve arranged this meeting so we can go through the list and make sure everything is covered.

 

Regards,

Olivia Sinclair

Production Assistant

“Oh yes, that’s Olivia all right, from what I’ve seen so far.” Chrissy folded her arms. “To be honest, I don’t know her well. We started here within a couple of weeks of each other and between you and me, we’ve never hit it off.” She glanced around, presumably to make sure they were still alone. “But she’s a little, well, you know, uptight.”

“I’m so glad it’s not just me.” Jenny kept her voice low. “She’s been less than friendly since this whole thing was announced.”

Chrissy pursed her lips. “Yeah, I’m so sorry about that. It’s not like I could have warned you or anything but yeah, she’s a hard one to work with. I mean,” she said hastily, “she’s good at her job. I can’t fault that. But she’s definitely not a team player, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m beginning to see that.” Jenny sighed.

By Wednesday, it was clear to Olivia she was not Miss Popular with the rest of the team. As if she cared. The good news was her preemptive strike in setting up the planning meeting on Tuesday had achieved what she’d hoped: they now had a fully detailed plan allocating tasks and responsibilities to each of them. Yes, there had been a certain coldness in the room as she’d gone through her ideas, even from Maxwell, but despite that, everyone had got on with things. She had to begrudgingly admit, even Jenny had contributed some good ideas and actually focused on the task at hand.

All four of them now had their heads down, either working on their laptops or speaking on the phone. She had tuned everyone else out and pushed on with her work. She was part of two other large projects as well as Catwalk, but she was busy working on the list of transportation options for both the Catwalk event setup and the movement of people on the night of the gala, which was her main responsibility.

“Over there!” said a man’s voice.

The rumble of something large being wheeled across the floor followed, and Olivia dragged her gaze away from her screen to see what was happening.

Two men pushed a large platform hand truck toward her working area. On the bed of the truck were two desks, stacked on their short ends.

Maxwell stood. “Jenny, I think we need to take a break now.”

Jenny whipped around and a wide grin broke out on her face. When she smiled like that, everything about her seemed to lift up, and her gray eyes took on an ethereal glow.

Olivia caught that thought and sent it scurrying back where it came from.

“Cool!” Jenny also stood. When the men were within earshot, she called, “Want us to clear our desks?”

“You Jenny Quinn?” The older of the two men glanced at a clipboard balanced precariously on the wide handle of the truck.

“That’s me. And this is Maxwell Brady, he should be the other name on your list.”

The man grunted and helped his colleague maneuver the truck around other desks in the vicinity until it could go no farther without being unloaded.

In the meantime, Jenny and Maxwell lifted their things off the old desks and piled them onto a nearby filing cabinet.

The noise was ridiculously distracting, and Olivia leaned away from her laptop in annoyance. Why did they have to do this in the middle of the working day? What was wrong with arranging for either last thing in the evening or first thing in the morning? Idiots.

Twenty minutes later, Jenny and Maxwell had new desks. Half an hour after that, the men from office services reappeared with their truck reloaded with brand new chairs. Once they’d disappeared for the final time, Jenny and Maxwell high-fived each other and settled back down.

A moment later, Jenny jumped up from her chair once more. “I nearly forgot!” She disappeared in the direction of the supply cupboard in the far corner of the floor. When she returned, she held two items in her hands: a mini football helmet and what looked like a small basketball hoop.

Maxwell chuckled as she approached. “Of course,” he said fondly.

“Oh, I love it!” Chrissy clapped.

“Set this up between us?” Jenny pointed to what was, indeed, a small basketball hoop.

Maxwell grinned.

Jenny placed

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