The Nutcracker

I changed the conversation to talking about baby Alice who was sleeping peacefully in her pram in the corner. As much as I hated my current job, working with someone like Tobias Mortimer would be worse, I was sure. Although I loved my sister and would help with almost anything, this was a step too far. Sure, I was organised, I had to be to finish my research thesis, but that was organising me and my thoughts, not organising someone else, especially someone I did not like particularly much.

~*~*~*~*~

Working the weekend saw me have Monday off. I had agreed to have lunch with my sister. The plan was to meet at a café in town, but she messaged me at eleven saying she was nowhere near ready to leave the house and asked if I could bring lunch to her. I had assumed she was busy with Alice, but when I arrived, she had her phone tucked under her chin juggling Alice in one arm, who needed her nappy changed, typing on her laptop with the other.

I grabbed the phone from her. "Look arsehole, Soph's on leave and you shouldn't be bothering her. It's not her fault you can't keep secretaries. OK. PAs then. That's none of your business. And why would I want to work for you? So, if I told you I was earning $35 an hour you'd pay me $50? That's not the point. Geez, you are desperate, aren't you? If I say yes, no listen to me, if I say yes there is to be no Christmas music in the office, no pretending we're in the middle of winter, no hot chocolate, no cookies, no decorations, and I have time off over Christmas which you will pay me for. And you'll give a sizable donation to the Women's Shelter I volunteer for."

I looked over to see Sophie smiling. The day before had been the last straw in retail. A guy had asked me if two people could fit in a large bath towel and went ahead to unfold one. He tried to pull me against him before I slapped him and told him to take his business elsewhere. Our manager, Brad, had seen the incident and not been impressed. He had a mantra that the customer was always right, and could not see that a customer trying to wrap himself in a towel with me, pushing his beer belly against me, was totally inappropriate. Apparently, I just needed to loosen up. Whatever.

At least I was employed on a casual basis and could quit at any time. That extra bit of pay they gave me to make up for not having a permanent job didn't make up for the crap I was made to put up with. Tobias had offered me a permanent role until Sophia returned and $15 per hour more than I was making in retail. I'd grossly exaggerated when I told him I was paid $35 per hour in retail, but he hadn't argued. Plus, he was going to pay me for the week between Christmas and New Year, which I didn't need to work, and also donate to the charity I was involved with.

Although I didn't need to worry about rent, I did like the idea of travel and figured I could save a fair bit of money if I worked for Mortimer Tech and budgeted appropriately. Tobias was desperate, and I figured I was going to be the one doing him a favour. Plus, Soph looked dreadful. She needed to enjoy these months off and spend time with her family.

"You're a gem, Stell. Thanks so much for doing this." Sophie did seem grateful. "If you head in now, they'll be able to set up your IT access and get you on the payroll. And remember, Toby's a little pussy cat."

~*~*~*~*~

Caitlyn from HR was talking several hundred beats per minute as she rattled off all sorts of information about Mortimer Tech. Tobias had insisted that I was only to answer to him and he was to direct my work, but Caitlyn reminded me her door was always open. She seemed a kind, matronly sort of woman in her skirt suit and court shoes that made a click-clack noise as we walked along the corridors. Her grey hair, pulled back in a bun, did little to soften her features. However, she talked with a gentleness that betrayed her gruff exterior.

"Have you worked here long?" I asked as she ushered me into a lift heading to the top floor of the building.

"Since the start. I started as Mr Mortimer's PA, you know. There are plenty of job opportunities in Mortimer Tech."

"Be that as it may, I'm only here until Sophie gets back from leave. There's no way I'm going to work here longer than I have to."

Caitlyn gave a smile to my comment but did not offer her thoughts. "Mr Mortimer's office is through here. He usually starts around six in the morning. Sophia used to arrive around seven. Check with him what time he wants you tomorrow."

"Seven? In the morning? I suppose I leave earlier then at least."

"Sometimes the days can be long, but I'm sure you'll manage."

"I'm on an hourly rate, not salary so I'll be paid overtime?"

"Yes. No questions there. Mr Mortimer is very generous with his staff; it's why so many stay and don't head to our competitors and why positions here are so sought after."

"Obviously, seeing he's been through how many PAs since Soph went on maternity leave?"

"Yes, but you're totally different, Stella. I can see that and I'm sure Mr Mortimer will too."

Caitlyn knocked at a large door, and we were summoned inside.

"Ah, Estelle. Lovely to see you again and glad you accepted the offer, if only to help your sister."

"I still feel I'm here under duress, Tobias." I emphasised each syllable of his name.

"You two. Enough of the games," Caitlin interrupted. "You had enough of them with Sophie, Toby. Estelle has said she wants to be called Stella and you need to abide by her wishes. And Stella, don't let him make you call him Mr Mortimer. I only do that to rile him up."

"Thanks, Caitie." Toby smirked. However, he also looked like he was being told off by the school principal.

"I'll leave you two to it. Now Stella, please contact me if there are any issues and Mr Mortimer, behave!" Caitlyn turned and exited, clip-clopping her way down the hallway.

"Right then, Stella," my new boss emphasised my name as if he was putting it in inverted commas, "We have casual Friday, but as it is only Monday—"

"Hold on, Toby, two hours ago I was having lunch with my sister on my day off having worked all weekend and I did not expect to be working at all today. I will be here at eight tomorrow morning. I won't be wearing cut-off denim jeans and a t-shirt tomorrow because I will be here to work. And if you don't want to be looking for another secretary in a day or so, you'll treat me with respect, and I'll do the same for you." And I turned to leave.

"Your sister started at seven."

"I'm not my sister." I called as I walked out of the office.

"I'm very well aware of that."

~*~*~*~*~

"Good morning, Mr Mortimer's office, this is Stella, how can I help you?" I hoped me not having a smile on my face did not come through in my voice, but I knew I sounded fake. "I'm sorry, but Mr Mortimer is a little behind on his emails. I'll make sure there is an RSVP to you by close of business tomorrow, but this is a very busy time of year and Mr Mortimer's diary is very full already. Thank you. Have a nice day."

"Who was that?" Toby appeared from his office biting into an apple.

"Some media company. There's a pre-Christmas soiree on Thursday and you haven't RSVPed yet. Do you want to go?"

"Actually, please make it a priority to work out what I have been invited to and we'll go through that after lunch. My calendar's out of control."

Things were disorganised. Toby was in hot demand at openings, launches and, of course, Christmas parties. Some of the written invitations that had arrived in the mail had ticks and crosses on them, but I was unsure if one of my predecessors had done this, or if it had been Toby's doing.

I was interrupted by phone calls and people popping by the office solely to check me out. As I made my way to the staff room to grab a cup of coffee, I heard people gossiping about me.

"She's not at all bad on the eye, cuter than her sister. She'll put the moves on him by Friday I reckon."

"Um, hello folks. I don't think I've met any of you yet. I'm Stella Wittington and yes, I'm the boss's new PA but there is no way in hell I'll be putting any moves on him as you say. You could not pay me enough. I'm here so my sister can spend her maternity leave not worrying about her boss, that's all, and as soon as she's back I'm out of here faster than you can say—"

"My office, now, Ms Wittington." Of course, none of them had told me that Toby had walked up behind me.

"I'll grab my coffee and be right with you, Mr Mortimer." I tried so hard not to roll my eyes.

~*~*~*~*~

"Have a seat." I left my coffee on my desk and entered Toby's office.

"I'm sorry, I can—"

"Stop. Let me." Toby sat behind his desk, his fingers pressed together with his index fingers pressing against his chin. "I've used a few temp agencies to provide PAs since Sophia went on leave, and they keep sending me young women who basically just want to get in my pants and see a job here as a step into a life with me."

"That's gross."

"It's almost satisfying you find me so repulsive, but it's not professional—"

"I didn't mean that. I mean you're not bad looking or anything."

"But..."

"But you're a cocky prick!"

"You're a lot like your sister, you know?"

"Nope. Not really. She's one hundred per cent left-brained and I'm one hundred per cent right-brained. I'm creative and she's the geeky one who likes programming and stuff."

"How are you going with the invitations?" I had expected to be chewed out more for my outburst in the staff room, but Toby redirected our conversation.

"I've almost finished. I'll just grab them."

Toby was pleased with my separation of the events. Some were purely social, some business and others more philanthropic. I had no idea what causes were close to him so simply presented things, pointing out which events clashed and suggesting he could delegate to others if it was so important to have a presence. I had also been correct in my assumptions that my predecessors had tried to decide which events they thought Toby should attend, no doubt hoping to be his plus one for the occasion.

"Stella, our staff Christmas party is always the Saturday before Christmas Eve. This year I've booked the bar I saw you at last week. It's why I was there actually. It's a nice place, isn't it? Staff can bring partners or a date. Will you be bringing Bruce?"

"Yeah, no! Definitely not seeing him again and I've deleted the app from my phone."

"Interesting..." was all Toby said as I stood and went back to do more work.

~*~*~*~*~

Compared to retail, the job was easy. I was not on my feet all day and Toby was in and out of the office a lot, so I didn't need to have a lot to do with him. It was easy to see why Sophie thought he was a kitten as he was generous to his staff and charming to those who came to see him for meetings, but we still always found a way to rile each other up.

We had come to a truce. He called me Stella and I called him Toby. At times he verged on asking for impossible demands, but he had worked out that when I raised my eyebrows he could backpedal, and this would stop me from yelling at him. The gruffness that had been there when I had first met him had started to mellow, and perhaps we did have an alright working relationship happening.

"Soph, I mean Stella, see, that's how much you're fitting in. Sorry, can I see you in here for a minute please?"

It was early December. I didn't have a big idea of what Mortimer Tech did, and to be honest, it didn't interest me. I knew it was something to do with web stuff and phone apps, but I was simply here to sort through Toby's diary and take phone messages. And yes, I had wondered why there was not an app for that.

"I'll tell her you're confusing us, she'll get a kick out of that."

"Who?"

"Sophie. Don't worry."

"Yes, sorry. Um, this is a little delicate and I'd appreciate it if you heard me out before any of your facial gestures or yelling, please."

"Delicate? Do you need me to shop for someone for Christmas? I can keep a secret."

"No, no. When I saw you at the bar, you were on a date?"

"Yep. I've tried to forget about it, but images of him crouched next to that dead pig will remain for a while longer I think."

"OK. Well, I'm not asking you this as an employer asking an employee—"

"No, Tobias, I will not go on a date with you. We have nothing in common and I sincerely doubt you're my type."

"No, I mean, thanks, but, I'm not into pigging."

"Well neither am I, but he hid that on his profile pretty well—got his 'missus' to write it for him. It was such a bloody disaster. Thanks for reminding me."

"OK, well. Mortimer Tech is wanting to launch a dating app for Valentine's Day next year. I did ask you to hold off the eye rolls."

"Sorry." I tried not to snigger.

"So, I tried out a couple of dating apps and it was dreadful. My sister met her husband online, but I suspect they're the exception, rather than the rule. So, I spoke with some of my friends."

"You've got friends?"

"And I think we've come up with a new type of app that will handle some of the issues people have had with the traditional apps. You said his 'missus' designed his profile?"

"Yep. Made him out to be a gardener who liked cooking."

"So, you liked his profile?"

"Yeah, it was ok. He looked ok, but I never really go on photos because they're so easy to doctor these days. When we chatted online, he seemed nice enough."

"Well, our app is called Blind Date. You chat to someone anonymously online once our program has matched you based on an initial questionnaire. Once you meet up, at the end of your date, you need to rate your partner based on real-life versus blind impressions. If there is too much of a disparity, then there is a strike placed against the individual. Three strikes and you're out. We figured that's fair."

"So, you get your 'missus' to fill in the questionnaire and chat for you then turn up. Hardly sounds different."

"This is the techie bit. The chats are encrypted to your phone. If someone else logs in on your behalf and answers the questions, then this bit won't help. When you meet up, your phones pick up each other's pings and then you each scan a QR code and get to see each other's questions to the questionnaire."

"I can see where you're coming from. Can you add photos?"

"No. Is appearance everything?"

"I suppose not, but it's part of it. I mean, I know I'm drawn to guys with certain attributes, and it might be weird turning up to find someone who's shorter than me or something."

"But you've already formed a connection with them through your online chats. You can always ask someone how tall they are for instance. There is never any compulsion to meet up with anyone from the app. If anything, you are only going to meet people who interest you."

"Fair enough. So where do I fit in?"

"Well, again I'm not asking you this as your boss, but you are single, aren't you, Stella?"

I felt a blush creep across my face. "Yes, I'm single, but I'm not sure I'm ready to mingle."

"But it's almost Christmas, surely you want that special someone to snuggle with around the fireplace, drink cocoa and eat cookies watching Love Actually?"

"Ha-ha."

"Some of my friends have agreed to test the app for me and I'm looking for some women who might be interested."

"What are your friends like?"

"Good-looking intelligent playboy pricks, but there's one or two I think you'd get on well with." Toby was grinning.

"I'm not sure..."

"And I'll donate another ten grand to that shelter you seem to like so much."

He had found my weak spot. "Fair enough. I'll give it a go."

Toby loaded the prototype app onto my phone and showed me how to set up my profile. I figured it was only fair that I be completely truthful. It asked strange questions like how many books I'd read in the last six months, my favourite movie, ideal dates and all the typical questions I was expecting. Some of the questions had me rank attributes in a partner choosing from success, looks, can laugh with me, wealth, and the like. It made me think about what I might like in a partner.

I did figure at twenty-two I wasn't looking for a life partner, but at the same time, I would like to find someone I might consider having sex with. It was not a totally heterosexual app, and I was able to say if I was interested in men or women. I wondered how many other women had signed up already to beta test it and thought I might create another profile at another time to chat to some, merely to hear of their experiences.

I was given the username 'F391.' I had no idea what this meant, but assumed it was F for females. I made a note to ask Toby if the numbers were random because as time went on, it might be awkward to have a lower number with people thinking you had been there for a while.

As I was cooking dinner, my phone made a sound I was not familiar with. I looked down to see I had a message from 'M504.'

"Yo, mate of a mate got me onto this. You're the chick that popped up for me to chat with so here I am. Please tell me you've got blue eyes?"

"Hi. Um, no. My eyes are green. Are you that specific with what you want in a woman—someone with blue eyes?"

"Nah, only kidding. So, tell me about you."

"Well, I'm twenty-two. I love reading and I do a bit of writing in my spare time."

"Cool. Except, I don't read much, except for magazines. What would you say if I gave you a pearl necklace for Chrissy?"

"Yeah, um, I don't think we're much of a match. But thanks for reaching out. Good luck with finding someone."

And I clicked the block button. So far at least, I had discovered that I had nothing in common with M504.

"Are the numbers on the app all random, or are they how many people have signed up?" I texted Toby as I tucked into dinner.

"Totally random and you can request a new number any time by clicking the button in your profile. The app keeps track of who has chatted with whom. How's it going?"

"Just chatted with an absolute loser. I suspect he's a friend of Bruce! No idea why he popped up as a match."

"Remember, there's not a lot of users at present and we're still in small-scale beta, so it's probably not the full experience."

As I lay in bed, I thought about how much more I preferred working for Mortimer Tech than the linen shop I had worked in for the previous several months. I still could not see myself working there long-term, but it was a friendly enough team, Toby aside, and people did seem to like working there. I was surprised that I liked organising Toby and although I understood very little about what they were doing at Mortimer Tech, this did not affect the job I was doing.

I opened the Blind Date app and saw there were no potential matches online, so I exited, turned over, and went to sleep.

As I smashed avocado over toast the following morning, I was again drawn to the app. Opening it, I saw that M264 was available, and we had supposedly matched.

"Morning, M264. I probably should be getting ready for work but saw there was a potential match online so thought I'd say hi."

There was radio silence for a few minutes before three dots appeared indicating he was writing back.

"Well, hello there, F391. Do you not like being late, or do you have one of those bosses?"

"I'd rather not think about my boss until I'm at work. He's a bit of a tyrant."

"So not the sort of guy you'd choose to go out with then?"

"Yeah, no! Apart from him being my boss, he's a bit of a wanker."

"Well let's not talk about him then. This is strange. We know nothing about each other, except that a computer thinks we might be a match."

"Tell me about it. First up—do you like pig shooting?"

"I can't say I've ever been, but if my partner was interested in it, I'd give it a try I suppose."

"No, good answer. I'm not into it at all. Hey. I need to get moving, but perhaps we could chat again sometime?"