Date with Destiny

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sometimes my brain feels like it’s a washing machine. One of those fancy washing machines with like, fifteen settings that no one really understands or uses, like ‘Sports’ or ‘Denim’. I mean what does any of that mean, really? What does a ‘Sports’ cycle do? Whatever, I think it’s what’s happening in my brain right now. My head is on some kind of confusing spin cycle where I know something is going on, but I couldn’t tell you what. Someone has pushed the wrong button and every time I try to focus on my life and make some decisions, my brain starts a brand-new wash, with everything sloshing about in all directions. I don’t know how long it’ll go on for, how hot it’s going to get in there, and whether anything of use is going to come out at the end of it.

It’s been a week since Toni’s birthday, when I ‘reconnected’ with Mikey. A week since Daniel texted again asking to meet up. A week since I pissed Celeste off more than ever before by staying out all night without telling her. She’s barely spoken to me since, aside from a daily aggressive, ‘WHAT TIME WILL YOU BE COMING HOME TONIGHT?’ over our cereal. Followed by an even more aggressive threat to pick me up straight from the store when my shift ends. It means I’ve been too afraid to see Mikey again, never mind Daniel.

To be fair to Celeste, she is under a huge amount of pressure with the launch of this new range. The press release went out wide yesterday, and so far the few tweets about it have been vaguely positive. There is plenty of goodwill for my mother from fans and her celeb mates, but we await reaction from the media.

If I’m completely honest – and I feel awful saying it – I personally don’t like what they’ve come up with. I think Celeste has been blinded by the yes folk around her who keep saying how great everything she does is, over and over. She’s not doing what she’s literally famous for, which is judging the items themselves – on their own merit.

But then, what do I know really? Taste is all subjective, and my mother has been in this business for a hell of a lot longer than I have.

Either way, it’s not the best time to be dealing with a romantic crisis, coming at me from two sides. Daniel seems increasingly desperate to meet up, ignoring my requests for more time. Meanwhile, Mikey’s texts are becoming increasingly flirtatious. I’m dying to see both of them, for very different reasons.

Oh my god, am I in a love triangle?? I am both horrified and delighted.

A voice breaks me out of my washing machine daydream. ‘Let’s go!’ It’s Zach and Celeste by the front door, waiting expectantly.

‘Come on, darling!’ Celeste says impatiently.

‘Yep,’ I say, trying to keep from sighing.

We’re off to visit the new store across town, and I’m trying to stay positive. We’re opening the first week of January, which is now only five weeks away, and I’m really, really trying to be excited. After all, it’s a brand new adventure! Something totally new! A new commute, a new environment, new stock. And maybe it will be great; I’m getting to run the whole thing, after all. Maybe I’ll be able to make it amazing!

And at least Zach’s coming along today to metaphorically hold my hand if it’s awful.

His contract with us technically ends at Christmas, but I know we’re all hoping he’ll stay on, maybe even in a more permanent capacity. He’s got a meeting with Celeste about it next week and I know she’ll be throwing all kinds of money at him. Which he totally deserves.

As we head for his car, Celeste rabbiting on about filming the new advert and how it went with our Love Island ambassador, I sneak a glance at Zach, taking in that strong movie star profile.

It feels like we’ve genuinely become friends in the last few weeks. For real, I mean. We laugh and joke, and gossip about Celeste. We’ve had a couple more spy missions, too, for our clients. It’s always genuinely fun being around him and I look forward to the days he’s in store. It’s really nice having a male pal again. In my early to mid-twenties, I used to have loads of blokes as friends. But there is a thing that happens when they meet a partner, where they just… go. They disappear. And not in an initial love bubble way like everyone does. It’s just like they no longer have need of you. They have filled their quota of oestrogen in their life. It made me very sad when I realized all my male friends had gone and weren’t coming back. It made me feel a bit used.

I expect the same thing will happen with Zach when he meets someone.

I would say the one weird thing is that neither of us ever mention our love lives. Or, in my case, disastrous romantic bin-fire. But we’ve been working together for months now and at a certain point it’s too late to suddenly go, ‘So hey, do you even have a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Casual friend with benefits? Tinder addiction?’

He glances over at me now, raising his eyebrows as Celeste tells us about Photoshopping out the reality star’s nipples, and I look away, embarrassed to be caught staring.

‘I’m excited to see the place,’ he says as we reach the car, climbing in and immediately blasting the heaters onto max.

‘You will love it!’ Celeste barks. It’s an order, not a wish.

Zach nods. ‘I’m sure it’ll open us up to a whole new type of client.’

‘Fingers crossed!’ I agree, my heart sinking. I like the clients we have. But it’s sweet that he’s trying to be positive – it’s very sexy.

I don’t mean sexy. I mean platonically impressive.

I don’t even fancy Zach anymore. I mean, you have to acknowledge his attractiveness because it’s right there in front of you. It’s undeniable. Like, you can’t look at him and not immediately want to stroke his face.

But that doesn’t mean I fancy him. I’m just stating facts: that he’s insanely good-looking and talented, and I can’t stand not touching him.

Facts not fancy.

He beams over at me. ‘It’s going to be great.’

It is not great.

The outside isn’t too bad. It’s a very edgy, colourful building in East London, but I had a feeling it would be, given the new direction Celeste seems intent on heading in. At least it has personality.

But the inside…

Barren is the word I would use to describe the aesthetic. It looks more like an Apple Store than a boutique family-run jewellery business. There are screens on every wall, and Celeste immediately grabs a remote control, blasting out the new advert. The Love Island star dances for us in a bikini, showing off an ugly scarf and gloves from the range. They did not do a good job with Photoshop because I keep making eye contact with her nipples.

‘It’s wonderful, isn’t it!’ Celeste shouts over the advert’s pounding dance music.

Zach and I nod, dumbly.

‘And the best thing,’ Celeste shouts, ‘is that there won’t be any stock!’ She looks so delighted at this best thing, which definitely sounds like the worst thing. She waves at a series of smaller screens dotted around the room. ‘They’re all interactive,’ she explains as the Love Island star writhes around above us. ‘So customers can review everything in one place and even design their own jewellery and accessories with a computer programme!’ She grins at this and I glance nervously at Zach. He is crestfallen.

But surely, even if they can design their own thing on screen, we’d still need him? It’s the difference between drawing a picture for yourself and having a professional artist do it.

I look around, horror pooling in my stomach. The advert looping on repeat is already giving me a headache. To me, this store – what Celeste has done with this store – makes having a store completely redundant. It’s like we’ve opened a second shop just to show everyone how pointless having any shops are at all.

I should’ve spoken up. I should’ve been firmer when Celeste proposed all this. Is it too late?

‘Anyway,’ Celeste breezes happily. ‘I’ve got to shoot. We’re filming this afternoon, but you two stay here and get to know the space. I had a very expensive interior designer do all this.’ She waves at the blank whiteness all around us.

We both suck in a breath as the door shuts behind her.

‘Jesus,’ I catch Zach muttering, all his positivity drained away. That’s how I know it’s bad.

I clear my throat, adopting a sunny American accent, ‘Hi there! Welcome to the Genius Bar, would you like to drop off your laptop?’

It doesn’t really break the tension but he laughs nicely.

‘This is meant to be Celeste’s Stones?!’ he says with disbelief, taking in the room again with a level of dismay. ‘It looks nothing like Celeste’s Stones!’

‘I know,’ I say, my voice a mixture of sadness and embarrassment, like this is my fault.

‘God,’ he says, more under his breath now.

‘There is no God here,’ I say seriously. ‘This is a place without soul.’

He laughs again, his smile back properly now. ‘OK then,’ he fixes me with a determined expression. ‘Well, let’s give it a bit.’ He glances up at the screens, where the horrible advert repeats hellishly, over and over. ‘We’ll start by turning this shit off and get some music playing!’

I brighten. ‘OK!’ I find the remote Celeste has left on the counter and pull up YouTube.

‘Girls Aloud!’ he shouts, to my surprise, adding, ‘Put on Ten, that’s their best greatest hits album.’

‘Big fan, are you?’ I ask, amused and delighted. Because I am a big fan.

‘Totally!’ he says happily, taking my hand and leading me to the centre of the empty store. The screens around us show the five singers in orange stomping towards the camera and we copy the moves, strutting around the space. ‘I love nineties and noughties girlbands,’ he yells over the sounds of ‘Something New’. ‘The Spice Girls, B*Witched, TLC, Destiny’s Child, obviously, Girls Aloud—’

‘Obviously,’ I snigger as we jump around the room in time with the music, singing tunelessly, getting the words all wrong.

‘Very obviously,’ he grins. ‘And you know who were also a totally underrated girl band? The Saturdays. They rocked!’

‘Oh yeah! My Aunt Diane had their album Chasing Lights stuck in the CD slot of her Volvo. We listened to it every day when she got me from school.’

He grins at this. ‘Me and my mum and sister used to dance around the room like this to Girls Aloud after school. We would have huge raging arguments over which was the best member. Cheryl was my favourite, of course! We couldn’t believe it when Ashley Cole cheated on her!’ Zach suddenly looks furious. ‘How could anyone do that? It’s so—’ He stops abruptly like he has just said too much. His eyes are flashing dark and haunted as he abruptly stops dancing and turns away. ‘I’m just going to the loo,’ he says shortly, his back to me, ‘then I better get going. I’ve got a lot to get through.’ He walks quickly away, leaving me to fumble with the controls, turning the music off and feeling weird.

What happened there? Did I embarrass myself?

No, there was something going on with him. He mentioned cheating? Did he…? Has he…?

It suddenly occurs to me that I really don’t actually know that much about my new friend.