Emily was brutally blunt. Her colleagues had known her for years, and she never minced her words. It didn’t matter if you wanted to hear them or not.
Take Sophie, for instance. One morning, she spent hours flirting with the new IT guy while breezing through her tasks, practically floating around the office. “You do know his wife’s just had a baby, right?” Emily asked. Just like that, the flirting died.
Then there was Victoria, who couldn’t seem to quit smoking. She tried patches, special lozenges—nothing worked. Then she bought one of those fancy e-cigarettes, sneaking out every half hour for a puff. Emily shut that down too. “Ever seen the ingredients in that ‘miracle’ vape? No? Funny, that.”
People avoided Emily. No one wanted to be on the sharp end of her tongue. She didn’t care. The truth was the truth, after all—but who actually wanted to hear it?
When Emily left for a training course abroad, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. They smoked outside, flirted with new clients, had wild Friday nights, and snogged in dim office corners—married or single, no one cared.
Three weeks later, she was back. Normally, she wore sharp dresses, high heels, heavy perfume, and full makeup. But this time, she walked in wearing faded jeans and an oversized jumper, hair tied in a messy bun. No makeup. Sunglasses she didn’t remove until she vanished into her office. Instead of her usual overpowering scent, just a whisper of Calvin Klein’s Truth.
She didn’t scold the receptionist for forgetting the meeting documents. She didn’t snap at the IT guy for being on the phone with his wife. She walked right past the lawyer rummaging through files—ignoring it all.
“Failed the course,” the lawyer declared.
“Caught a bug,” the receptionist guessed.
“She’s in love!” Sophie cackled.
“And that’s why she’s wearing a jumper two sizes too big?” the translator smirked.
“Either way, the meeting’s in an hour. Best prepare instead of gossiping.”
Except, an hour later, Emily still hadn’t shown up. The team waited. Fidgeted.
Then the IT guy, sitting by the window, gasped. “There she is! Look!”
Everyone rushed over.
Across the street, in a cosy little café, sat their Emily. But she wasn’t their Emily. Not because of the lack of makeup or the messy bun. No. Because opposite her was a man, talking animatedly—and she was laughing.
Their Emily. Laughing.
The team stared, as if to confirm it was really her. The sharp, irritated, perpetually unimpressed Emily was now someone entirely different.
“Honestly, I couldn’t find my blouse this morning,” Emily said to the man—Daniel—smiling. “So I stole your jumper.”
“I prefer you without anything,” he replied.
Emily blushed and playfully punched his shoulder. “Stop it.”
“Can’t.” He leaned in. “We need to finish work and go back to mine. Or yours. Don’t care. Since we met at the airport, everything’s changed.”
“Agreed.”
“By the way,” he whispered, “you’ve got the jumper on inside out.”
“Oh, bloody hell!”
“Definitely coming to mine, then. Got to fix that.”
She laughed, pulled out her phone, dialled. In the meeting room, the reception phone rang.
“Good afternoon! Emily Wright? Oh—yes. Everyone’s waiting for you in the meeting. Not coming? Oh. Feeling poorly? Get well soon!” She bolted into the conference room.
“Our Emily’s ill!” the receptionist announced.
“We can see,” the IT guy muttered. They all watched as Emily, perfectly healthy, climbed into a car with a stranger. She’d be gone for days. Might as well not bother calling.
“Why?” the receptionist asked.
“Ever come to work in an inside-out jumper?” Sophie smirked. “Worn sunglasses all day to hide last night’s antics? Couldn’t care less about makeup because you’re still thinking about him?” She gave a knowing shrug.
The receptionist processed this. So did everyone else.
“‘Ill.’ ‘Failed the course.’ Told you—she’s in love. And now our Emily’s a whole different person.”
“For how long?” the IT guy muttered.
Sophie gave him a look. “That’s up to you lot, isn’t it?” Then she walked out.
