Before Dawn: A Free Falling Novella Page 2

  “...and these are the six outstanding projects that made it to this year’s shortlist, all of them brilliant examples of excellence and significant contribution to both architecture and regional development...”

  A deep and enthusiastic voice cuts through my thoughts, and I let my eyes travel to the event host and the images projected on the screen—photographs of the six projects selected by the jury, the Harrow Community Centre I worked so hard on being one of them.

  I make an effort to focus on the man’s introduction but fail miserably at it. In my head, his words keep colliding against her rough, ragged words urging me to continue.

  Draining my second glass, I find myself secretly hoping it’s not my name they announce in a few seconds, ultimately acknowledging I must be a bloody fool indeed.

  “Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, I’m now proud to announce that due to its inspiring clarity and vision, originality, innovation, and sustainability the 2015 Wren Prize goes to... John Anderson Architects, represented here by the young and talented Brian Anderson. Congratulations!”

  It feels like a tidal wave hitting when the thunder of applause invades the room, the loud sound thudding in my ears and jolting through my body. I need to take a deep, steadying breath to keep my nerves under control.

  Winning an award as prestigious as this one is quite shocking in itself; it’s one of the most coveted prizes, one every professional in their right mind dreams of. Winning it today, however, after this afternoon, when I had already buried it all, feels particularly overwhelming.

  Several heads turn to the vacant seat at my table, raising a slight commotion that quickly turns into another ovation as I traverse the hall towards the beaming host and the representative of the sponsoring organisation.

  After receiving a handshake and a hearty slap on the back given as a token of congratulation, I accept my trophy with a serious countenance and turn to the audience, my sister the first person I thank wordlessly, with a subtle nod. Sue frowns and shoots me a reproachful glance first, but then her face breaks into a warm smile, one that is full of pride and joy.

  Then our eyes meet for a moment. Mary’s and mine.

  She’s sitting only two tables away, but the chair next to her is empty. Inadvertently, my eyes dart around the room and find him walking towards the bar, probably a strategic manoeuvre to avoid me. Better so. Had he kept his hands off her, he’d be one of the first people I’d thank and dedicate this award to tonight.

  Forcing the feelings of discomfort away, I lean one hand against the podium to steady myself and let my eyes fall to the beautiful crystal piece I’m holding, taking an instant to read the inscription. But then our eyes lock again, flashes of today’s events zipping through my brain, the turmoil inside making it almost impossible to think and summon the words.

  “Congratulations,” Mary mouths, a trace of a nervous smile appearing on her face. I don’t react in any way and she steers her gaze down, my cold and distant demeanour obviously affecting her.

  Glancing up at the audience, I stare at them blankly for a moment. Eventually, I clear my throat and force the words out, “On behalf of everyone involved in this project, I’d like to thank you for this recognition. I’m honoured to be here tonight, and very grateful to be the recipient of this award... Thank you, again, and good night to you all.”

  My brief and impassioned thank you speech is met with momentary silence. They were probably expecting me to say some heartfelt words or something to keep the mood light. After all, this is a festive event. But I’m in no mood for pleasantries, let alone for anecdotes or funny lines.

  After a short pause, another roar of applause breaks out. A subtle bow and I leave the podium, never looking down and ignoring the light touch of her hand when I pass by, determined to get out of this damn place and far away from her.

  Hell no, I won’t allow it. Neither this woman nor anyone else will be given the chance to make a fool out of me, ever again.

  Chapter Three ~ Olivia

  “Look, Liv, his holy hotness is here already!” Julie nudges me with her elbow while we wait for the cloakroom girl to hand us our ticket.

  My eyes dart around the quickly filling room before I find him sitting at a table in a quiet corner, sipping a pint of beer and checking something on his mobile. Even from here, without the white coat and dressed just in jeans and a casual shirt, he looks quite handsome indeed.

  I remember vaguely meeting him a couple of times before, me reciprocating when he greeted, but only out of professional courtesy.

  Was it in the lift? Maybe in the kitchen? I don’t know, I’ve never really paid attention to the man until today. My life has been in such a gloriously emotional cauldron, I barely have the energy to drag myself out of bed and into that goddamn hospital, let alone to socialise with some lonely co-worker needing to make friends.

  God, I’m a such an awful person.

  That or I’m not ready for any of this. The thought makes my legs quake a little and for a moment I wonder if I shouldn’t look for some dumb excuse and go home instead.

  As we make our way through the club and my heart picks up the pace of the pulsing Latin tunes, Dr Green looks up and greets us with a smile. A gorgeous boyish smile I don’t get the chance to fully admire because my mobile begins to vibrate.

  A quick check and my stomach clenches. It’s Filipe. What the holy hell?

  Determined not to let him ruin my night, I swipe the finger across the screen and reject the call. “Screw you!” I mutter under my breath.

  “Everything all right?” Julie turns and cocks her head at me, attempting to read me.

  “Sure. Everything’s fine.” No, it’s not. I’m about to go into panic mode—but hopefully it’s true what they say: if you repeat a lie many times, you start believing in it.

  “Good. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.” A salacious grin creeps on Julie’s face before she whispers into my ear, “Be cool. Be calm. Just imagine you wrapped up in each other, warm beneath the covers...”

  I push her playfully. “Shut up!”

  “Imagine him in all his naked grace. And his hands on your naked body, his tongue tormenting you...”

  “Get out of my face.”

  “I bet he’s a dynamo in bed,” she continues, with the same malicious twinkle in her eyes.

  “You’re a very disturbed person, Julie McDuffie.”

  “Tom! I’m sorry if we’re a bit late. Blame it on this awful traffic. And on Pablo. It took him an eternity and two days to pick us up,” Julie banters, winking at her boyfriend.

  “Sure, it’s always my fault.” Pablo nods, playing along. The poor guy waited almost an hour for us. “How are you, man?”

  “Great. Yourself?” They shake hands and Tom turns to me, tall, green-eyed and handsome, his smile warm and pleasing. “Hello, Olivia. So nice to finally meet you.”

  My phone vibrates another time, announcing a new text coming in. I shudder inwardly. Whether it’s because I fear it’s that creep of an ex again or because Dr Thomas Green is peering down at me so intently, I don’t quite know.

  Dammit, I should have turned the bloody thing off!

  “Nice to meet you too. Though I think we’ve already bumped into each other a couple of times.” Looking up toward his face, I hold out my hand, which he only takes to pull me gently and greet me with a kiss on both cheeks.

  “Thank you, guys, for the invite. This place is really cool.”

  “You’re welcome. In fact, we should have done this before. How are you getting along?” Julie asks as we all make ourselves comfortable around the table.

  “Still settling in. I’d been here quite a few times before, but transitioning from tourist to local is a bigger challenge than I anticipated.”

  “You bet it is.” Julie agrees. “From crazy rules and regulations to making yourself understood! If I hadn’t these two around, it’d have been a bloody nightmare. It really helps a lot when you mingle with the right people. What about that flat
you talked about the other day? Did you close the deal?”

  “I did! I’m finally leaving the hotel room later this week. The rest of my stuff is already on its way. In fact, we could–”

  Filipe | Friday, 22 May 2015 | 22:35

  Tomorrow, be in my office at 8. Need to update you on the OGNP. Check your mailbox for the new guidelines.

  Is this a bloody joke? I actually know of a place where he could shove his updates and always so important meetings and files, but after careful consideration, I decided I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of telling him what it is right now. He’s on a quest to drive me insane, but I won’t let him get to me. The hell I will.

  Though seething inside, I force myself to appear relaxed as I put the phone on mute and tuck it in my clutch. “So, who’s in the mood for a margarita?” I ask with my hand raised in the air, my eyes bouncing to the smart looking waitress who has just approached our table.

  Damn, I should leave it all behind and apply for a job in some place I never heard of, that’s what I should do!

  The idea’s been brewing in my mind for a while now, but these past few days it’s seriously beginning to take shape. What a control junkie, always reprimanding people for anything and everything. Half of our department is on the verge of a meltdown, everyone’s so sick and tired of his psycho-terror. I can’t take it much longer either, his plain ridiculous not to mention unethical moves to get us back together. For God’s sake, that’s–

  “What do you think? Fancy the idea? You’re in?” With an expectant look on his face, Tom rests a hand over mine, the warm touch bringing me back from my thoughts.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Where’s your head at, darling? Next weekend. You up for a dinner at Tom’s new apartment? To celebrate his coming to live here?”

  “Yes, Julie, that’s a lovely idea. Count me in.”

  *

  “A man lying in a hospital bed, wearing an oxygen mask over his mouth, mumbles Doctor, are my testicles black?

  “The doctor raises his gown, holds his cock in one hand and his bollocks in the other. Then she takes a closer look and says There’s nothing wrong with them, sir.

  “The man pulls off the oxygen mask, smiles and says very slowly: Thank you for checking on that. But listen very, very carefully–”

  “Are-my-test-results-back?” Julie finishes Pablo’s joke, her long dragged out voice making everyone crack a loud laugh.

  Between Tom’s adventures in a new country, the most bizarre divorce cases Pablo has seen in court, and Julie’s reflections on the challenges of going braless followed by the briefs vs. boxers existential dilemma, time seems to have flown by.

  After a merciless delivery of the most insane hospital jokes, I hold up my fourth margarita of the night, and point at Pablo, making a mock-threatening gesture. “Since you’re such a smartass, how about I give you a taste of your own medicine?”

  “You threatening me?” Pablo’s amused expression morphs quickly into a serious demeanour as he looks earnestly into my eyes.

  Skipping the straw, I take a long swig directly from the encrusted rim, licking my lips to make sure I get every scrap of the salt-citrus flavour. Then I narrow my eyes at him, menacingly. “Scared of me, are you?”

  “Yeah, I’m shaking. Come on, show me what you’ve got.”

  “Tell me, how many lawyers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

  He nods for me to continue.

  “Three. One to climb the ladder. One to shake it. And one to sue the ladder company. Next one. What’s the difference between a lawyer and God?”

  He doesn’t react and Julie’s eyes dart from him back to me and to him again. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Tom smirking, clearly entertained by the scene.

  I clear my throat. “I’m certain God doesn’t think he’s a lawyer.”

  Pablo fidgets in his chair and shoots me another deadly stare.

  “Why does the Law Society prohibit sex between lawyers and their clients?”

  “I’m sure you have a brilliant explanation for that.”

  “To prevent clients from being billed twice for the same service.”

  “Young lady, you’re about to get on my shit list,” Pablo retorts.

  A snort of laughter escapes me, but I quickly compose myself. “What do you lawyers get when we give you Viagra?”

  “What is this? The fucking Spanish Inquisition?” He shoots Julie a quick look as if asking for backup. A hysterical chuckle is all he gets, though.

  “Taller. You get taller.”

  “Jesus, woman, you’re mean. You’re downright evil.”

  I reach over and pull his lips up, mimicking a smile. “Have you ever thought a doctor is the only man who can tell your wife to take off all her clothes and then send the bill to you? And you cannot even sue the bastard for that.”

  Julie almost chokes on her drink with laughter. “Come to think of it, the idiot that tiptoed away from the delivery room yesterday should be sued indeed. There she was, on her back, screaming in agony about to deliver their child, asking him to hold her hand. But guess what? The miserable prick left because he wasn’t feeling quite well. Moron!”

  I nod, fully agreeing. “I know, right? Men always like to see themselves as tough and strong, but then when they get slapped with that extra dose of reality, they just can’t take it. Typical. If humanity depended on you, guys, we’d be all doomed. In fact, it would have ceased to exist a long time ago.”

  “That is the greatest nonsense I’ve ever heard! Nothing but a stereotypical...” Tom trails off when I wave a dismissing hand.

  “Let’s forget about the romanticised version of childbirth for a moment, okay? Almost every labour is a stressful, painful event. It’s invasive, we’re on display in front of strangers, it’s embarrassing. There is not a chance in hell men would have the balls to go through that!”

  “Sure, we would. If we had to.”

  “Good thing the topic will always remain strictly hypothetical, isn’t it, Dr Green?”

  “Hey, man, aren’t you going to back me up on this?” Tom turns to the other man at the table.

  To his disappointment, Pablo holds up his hands in surrender. “No, man. I don’t want to bring an international incident to this table.”

  Julie chuckles, a deep, resonant chuckle. “Cut the crap, Tom. You wouldn’t stop whining about it. Back pain. Sore breasts. Cramps. Insomnia. The sodding list is so damn long. What about getting up fifteen times a night to pee? Morning sickness?”

  “That one would be probably handled as the nation’s number one health problem,” I add.

  “Followed by prepartum depression... the moment they stopped seeing their penises!” Julie high-fives me before she reaches for Pablo’s hand. “Love this song! Come on, babe, let’s dance.”

  “Can I get you anything else?” Thomas asks after they’ve left us, angling himself towards me.

  “No, thanks. I’m feeling light-headed enough as it is... How did you get into this fellowship program again? Thinking maybe I should consider that possibility myself.”

  “There was an international call. An excellent opportunity for advanced research in a field I’ve been working for a while now.”

  “Which is?”

  “Understanding the molecular mechanisms that underlie brain cancer. It involves analysing human biopsies, generating primary cultures of tumour cells...” He stops suddenly. Smouldering eyes peer into my own. “Can I take you out to dinner sometime soon?”

  “You’ve been zigzagging me all night, haven’t you?”

  “I’ve been what?” His face scrunches up a little before it breaks into a smile. A cute smug smile.

  “You’ve been either looking into my eyes or at my mouth.”

  He leans closer, his gaze fixed on my mouth. “You’ve got very beautiful eyes.”

  I can’t stifle my laughter, the light tipsiness obviously getting the best of me. “Listen, Tom. This”—I wave a finger at the space betw
een us—“isn’t going to happen.”

  “You just broke my heart, Dr Burke.” The edges of his eyes crinkle.

  I tap his hand in a comforting gesture. “You’ll be okay, don’t worry. There’s plenty of fish in this sea, Dr Green. But, hey, want to dance?”

  “That’s not my best attribute, I’m afraid.”

  “Then you’d better get that chair off your butt and learn fast if you want to impress some ladies around here.”

  *

  In the distance, the window shutters groan open and scream inside my throbbing head. As if that wasn’t painful enough, a strong light pours between the curtains and hits me straight in the face, crashing violently against this too-many-margaritas-induced haze.

  Shit!

  My exhausted body squirms a little before I dive deep into the duvet, curling myself into a ball, shoving my face into the pillow.

  “Vamos, levántate.” A distant yet familiar male voice wanders to me. “Get up. Get up now.”

  “Go away!”

  “Olivia!” The voice pushes the covers back and sits on the edge of the bed.

  I finally manage to open my eyes. “What the f...” There’s a mix of shock and surprise coursing through me when I bolt upright in bed. “Filipe! What are you doing here? What time is it?”

  “Almost ten. Where the hell have you been last night? Why is there a guy in the kitchen?”

  “That’s none of your damn business, surely.”

  “He’s wearing my clothes.”

  “So what? I asked you a hundred times to come and grab your stuff, but you never did. I finally gave them some use.”

  “New boyfriend?”

  “No.” I give him my most sarcastic smile. “I guess I’m a little sensitive to the idea of such type of commitment lately.”

  That’d be Thomas, actually. Last night he walked me home and we ended up chatting away up until very late. I invited him to crash in the guest room, and that’s all. Nothing happened.