Drive Me Crazy. Portia MacIntosh

of all, my name is Candice,’ I correct him, as always. ‘Second of all, you’ve been here five minutes; you don’t even know Charlie.’

      ‘How dare you,’ he gasps dramatically again. ‘Charlie is one of the nicest blokes you could hope to meet. He’s been great with me while I’ve been here – even if it’s only been five minutes.’

      I purse my lips and nod my head. It was a nice try, but I’m not buying it. ‘Charlie is one of the ladies who works in the canteen.’ I laugh.

      ‘Oh,’ he replies. ‘Oh! It might seem weird that I wrote “good luck, pal” in the card.’

      ‘Yeah, you might want to change that.’

      ‘Well you said we were the last, so I sealed the card.’ He laughs as he scratches his head. As I watched him sign his name, it had occurred to me to maybe have a peep, to see what his name was. I didn’t really listen when he introduced himself, and no one ever seems to say his name. It seems rude to ask him now and I don’t want to make myself look like a bitch.

      I hate to stereotype, but everyone in the IT department looks exactly as you would expect an IT department employee to look – not the new guy, though.

      I’m not sure if I have a type, but I don’t think the new guy is it. Well, he’s nothing like Will, that’s for sure. That said, Geordie Shore is a very attractive man. I doubt he has any trouble getting girls, which is what makes me wonder why he tries so hard with me. I’d guess he’s about my age, he’s tall and thin. Not skinny though – he’s very well toned and it shows underneath the fitted V-neck T-shirt he’s wearing. God, I hate that I’m looking. He has tanned skin, big, deep brown eyes and brown hair, making him fit the tall, dark and handsome bill that most go for. He’s got one of those short, neat beards – not the dirty, overgrown hipster type, but the kind that’s almost just like long stubble, and his longish dark hair is twisted up into one of those topknot things that are so popular at the moment. It fascinates me how young men have embraced what is essentially a ballerina bun for boys, giving it its own name in an attempt to make it cool and manly. He wears thick-rimmed, black glasses, which only add to his cool look. He doesn’t look like an IT nerd; he looks like a Topman model.

      The most striking thing about him isn’t even the way he looks, but the way he carries himself. He’s that guy all the warm-blooded females in the office have a crush on, the kind who flirts with everyone because he can. He doesn’t come across as smarmy though, not with those baby-faced dimples. He’s got the kind of face that could get away with murder.

      ‘So, which one is Charlie?’ he asks, snapping me from my thoughts and dragging my gaze from his muscular arms back up to his eyes.

      ‘Erm…blonde, curly hair. Early forties. Short,’ I babble, struggling to describe her without using her obvious identifier.

      ‘Oh, I know, the one with the big – ’

      ‘Heart,’ I interrupt him, to save him from having to state the (awkward) obvious. The thing with Charlie is that she wears these distractingly low V-neck tops that really accentuate her chest. And when I say they’re low, I mean they’re low. Even I can’t help but stare. It’s like her neckline is an arrow pointing down towards her cleavage, sucking you in like the Bermuda triangle.

      ‘Yes,’ he replies with a thoughtful nod. ‘Heart.’ The new guy thinks for a second before adding: ‘That must by why her tops are so tight, if her heart is so big.’

      I laugh, shaking my head. ‘Well, I’d better get back to work,’ I tell him. It’s strange, but I kind of don’t want to go. Perhaps it’s because there’s such a nice atmosphere in here, even if I don’t know what anyone is talking about most of the time.

      ‘Well, I’ll see you at Charlie’s leaving do then,’ he tells me. ‘I imagine her boobs are already halfway out the door.’

      I can’t help but leave the IT department with a big smile on my face, grinning to myself all the way back through the banana. For once, I’m actually looking forward to a work thing.

       Chapter 8

      ‘What kind of party is this?’ the new guy asks as he sidles up to me, disappointment in his voice. ‘There’s no booze.’

      New guy. Again. I can’t get rid of him! The truth is, though, that I’m glad he’s here because until he came to stand next to me, I was just hanging around in the canteen on my own and it would have certainly stayed that way. I did catch the attention of my female fan club when I entered the room – minus Caroline who isn’t here – but her minions made me feel suitably unwelcome. You’d think Julie would show me a little solidarity considering we’re the only two young female employees, but I’ve been able to feel her burning a hole in the back of my head with her death stare since I arrived.

      ‘It’s lunchtime and we’re at work,’ I remind him. ‘Anyway, this lot don’t do well with drink.’

      From where we’re standing in the corner of the canteen, we have a clear view of everyone. Well, everyone but Caroline – and Will, who is stuck in a meeting, so I decide it’s safe to tell the new guy a little bit about everyone.

      ‘That’s Charlie, the guest of honour,’ I say as I point her out.

      ‘Who are the two bald guys standing next to her?’ he asks seriously.

      ‘There’s no one next to her,’ I reply, puzzled. Charlie is over by the buffet table, munching away on a sausage roll.

      ‘Oh, no, wait,’ new guy starts, ‘it’s just her boobs. Carry on.’

      I giggle and shake my head. I admire Charlie’s confidence to wear such low tops, especially around all the pervy blokes who work here. I’d love to care less about what people think.

      ‘You see that guy.’ I subtly point at a young, skinny blonde lad who is entertaining the gaggle of female staff members. ‘That’s Craig. He’s the main reason we have dry office parties now. Last Christmas we had the bash at a hotel in town. The bosses went all-out. It was amazing.’

      Well, the party was amazing, but it wasn’t amazing for me. Stephanie was supposed to be away with the kids, staying with family, so Will and I had a room booked at the hotel. I spent so much money on my outfit, I had my hair done and I spent ages getting ready. Then I turned up at the party and there was Stephanie on Will’s arm. She’d spent even more money on her outfit and looked like she’d spent even longer getting ready. She looked perfect. She knew that Will was staying at the hotel so, to keep up appearances as always, she stayed with him. Will and I had a big row that night. It’s the closest we’ve ever come to ending things.

      ‘So what did Craig do?’ the new guy asks, snapping me from my thoughts.

      ‘He thought he’d try and steal a bottle of champagne from the bar, reached over and somehow managed to catch his arm on something sharp. I’ve never seen a cut like it – or so much blood! It was all you could smell; it filled the air. He had to be rushed to hospital for an operation!’

      The new guy shakes his head with despair, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg of Cray-Craig’s (that’s what I call him in my head) behaviour.

      ‘Man, I love a drop of champers, but that’s insane.’

      ‘It’s completely insane,’ I agree. ‘Especially considering the fact it was a free bar.’

      The new guy laughs. ‘So who else do I have to blame for enduring this sober?’

      I glance around the room and spot a red-headed fifty-something lady wearing a navy blue twinset. She’s delicately sipping from her plastic cup, occasionally pinching crisps from the plate of the person next to her as she chats away.

      ‘That’s Cindy. See how prim and proper she seems? She turned up to a party