"What do you think, Tom?... Tom?... TOM."
"Hmm?" he jumps out of his daydream and back to the room, "God, I'm so sorry, I can't seem to concentrate... what were you saying?"
Luke semi-smirks at his client and friend.
"Hmm. Wonder why that is... We were all agreeing on the best course of action. Obviously, you can't just drop the girl..."
"No." Tom interrupts curtly.
Abso-fucking-lutely not.
"No..." Luke gently soothes, "So I was wondering about a press release, quietly filtered out that she's a long term girlfriend that you've kept extremely private."
"Yes." a tight-lipped blonde associate interjects, "Someone you've known on and off for years, through family connections perhaps? That way, in a few weeks, if this sours, you can claim it was a mutual break up... rather than a quick, meaningless hook-up."
Luke senses Tom's body tighten and looks over to see his friend's eyes darken with anger.
Before the situation can implode, he jumps to pacify the room.
"Yes, well, I'm sure we can smooth out the details here and let Tom get on with his day. Rest assured, this can be dealt with. Your PR machine is a powerful one."
He shoots Tom, what he hopes, is a reassuring smile and thanks everyone -an unspoken dismissal.
As Tom rises, he rests a hand on his shoulder.
"I'll email you the release in an hour or so for you to approve."
He receives a short nod in reply.
"Mate, look, I realise I was overly angry before but... well, you can't imagine the shock. My phone was ringing off the hook and I had no answers for anyone. I'm supposed to be your 'official' voice and I was struck dumb. It was just... infuriating. I promise, I'll sort this. Don't worry. Your reputation will be fine... and so will hers."
Tom's broad shoulders visibly relax and he sighs out, long and hard.
"Thank you, Luke."
"No worries, mate."
Luke smiles as they walk toward the door.
"Listen," Tom stops him abruptly as they are about to leave, "She's not... I mean... I don't know what this is but it isn't just me getting my end away... she's..."
Luke holds up a hand to halt the uncharacteristically wordless actor.
"I know. I look forward to meeting her."
Tom mirrors Luke's smile of encouragement and clasps him into a hug, relief making him sag.
"Thank you again... I'll look out for your e-mail."
He collects himself as he turns to leave.
Luke moves to collect the papers spread across the boardroom table and, in almost a throw-away manner, remarks;
"Though, you'll have to find out who your little snitch is before they cause any more damage!"
Tom stiffens.
"What?"
Luke looks up, incredulously.
"Tom, didn't you take in anything we've said today?"
Tom's face remains blank.
Sighing, Luke recaps.
"We got hold of the pap. He said he'd paid for the tip-off. Wouldn't give a name or anything but was adamant that one of her friends had dropped you both in it for a fee."
Tom's face fluctuates between confusion and rage.
"She's got one hell of an enemy, mate."
You turn and glance at yourself in the floor-length mirror.
This... cannot be for me.
The dress fit like it had been made for you.
You had lifted it from the tissue paper cocoon of it's box, almost reverentially. The cotton was as soft as down. It was white with a navy-blue grid print, sleeveless and dropped to mid shin.
You had wanted this dress for so, so long. It had hung in the window of 'Whistles' for weeks and you had sighed over it many times.
How had he even known?
Although... it was almost a shame to cover the exquisite oyster-pink silk underwear the delivery had also contained.
The last box had opened to reveal a navy blue pair of ballet pumps in the softest leather you'd ever felt.
How can I ever, ever repay him?
He had astutely had the tags cut from each garment, but the brand names spoke for themselves.
This is too much...
And yet, you still stared at yourself in awe, dressed in what was the most perfect outfit you'd ever seen in your life, and almost giggled.
And everything fits. Perfectly.
You heart swelled at the thought of him. Panicking. Rushing to fix what she had caused. And still... still, thinking of her comfort. Checking the sizes of her clothes on his bedroom floor as he paced it, talking to Luke.
Oh God...
Your heart was doing more than swell. It was fit to burst.
No, no, no. Not yet.
This was too soon. Mere weeks. It was only the day after your first proper date! How could you even be feeling...
Shaking your head, you carefully pack all the boxes and tissue back into the original box and busy yourself tidying the room.
Best not to think such things...
Afterwards, you fetch your bag and use what minimal make-up you have to make yourself look presentable. You find a stray elastic and drag your hair into a loose, still damp, french braid.
Perching your glasses on your nose, you give yourself a final once over, taking in the gorgeous new outfit.
It will never get better than this...
You smile and, just as you turn to make your way to the living room, the front door clicks open, making your treacherous heart skip a beat.