Chapter 9
‘Thanks for letting me do this,’ I said, filling a jug of water at the sink in the shared kitchenette.
Megan was busy with her own work but had a separate room for taking meetings, away from her desk.
She shrugged, adding a heaping spoonful of sugar to her decaf coffee – a surprising choice, given how much she normally relied on caffeine.
‘It’s no problem. I hate being in the office by myself, but there’s no way I’m working from home again. I need the boundaries.’
‘The never-ending work-life balance challenge,’ I said, leaning against the counter.
‘It’s not even about balance. It’s about space.
Alex and I were in each other’s pockets every day when I worked from home.
It was… suffocating.’ Her shoulders tightened as she stirred her coffee a little too vigorously, the casual tone at odds with the tension in her.
‘I didn’t realise how much I needed my own space. ’
I glanced at her, trying to gauge how much she wanted to share. ‘I thought you two were good at giving each other space. You used to brag about how you could spend whole weekends in separate rooms and still feel connected.’
She let out a brittle laugh. ‘Yeah, well… things change.’ Her fingers tightened around the mug before she took a long sip, as if to stop herself from saying more.
I hesitated, then ventured, ‘Everything okay?’
‘Oh, sure,’ she replied too quickly. ‘It’s just…
different now. He’s at home all the time with Alfie, and I’m here or at meetings.
We barely see each other during the day and when I get home, it’s like we’ve run out of things to say.
’ Her eyes flicked to the floor, her voice dropping.
‘He used to ask about my day. Now he just… hands me Alfie and goes to his laptop or the gym or wherever he can get a break.’
The word break lingered for a moment. I wondered silently what, exactly, Alex needed one from. The baby? Megan? Or the version of their life that no longer resembled the one they – or he – imagined?
I kept the thought to myself. I could tell Megan was trying to sound nonchalant, but the tightness in her jaw gave her away.
‘Maybe he just needs some adult conversation after a day with a toddler. It’s a different world.’
‘I get that,’ she admitted. ‘I really do. I just… I thought we’d still be us, you know?
But it’s like we’re roommates who swap childcare shifts.
We never talk about anything and the sex…
’ She gulped some of her coffee and shuddered.
‘It’s like going through the motions or acting like we’re not doing anything when we’re doing it.
No fun whatsoever, just in out, in out, done. ’
‘The kind of sex where you’re thinking about whether you got the bread out of the freezer and if you locked the back door?’
‘Precisely,’ she said. And I nodded, thinking that that basically described most of the sex that I had had in my life, and I’d had sex in hotel rooms with views of the Eiffel Tower.
Yet on that occasion all I was thinking about was whether or not I could manage the 674 steps up the tower or whether I should skip it and go ahead with visiting Shakespeare she rarely stays in one place for more than a month. ’
‘Got it.’ Alison continued to nod. Still no sign of star-struck curiosity.
‘The role is a bit hard to describe as well. There are weeks where you’ll be handling your standard schedules, meetings, minuting, organising travel, and general administration, but there is also a lot of personal administration involved as well.
Dry-cleaning clothes to return to stylists, fetching food, holding bags, that kind of work. Would that be a problem?’
‘Not at all,’ Alison said, relaxed as ever. ‘I was a PA for a fashion director once. It wasn’t an always-on role like this one, but it was a lot of “personal administration”, as you politely called it.’ She smiled knowingly. ‘As long as it’s not inappropriate, it’s fine by me.’
I couldn’t help but grin. I liked her already.
‘A lot of people would class it as scut-work,’ I admitted, and Megan cleared her throat from behind her desk. She was definitely one of those people.
Alison laughed. ‘Well, it is and it isn’t. Particularly, I imagine, when it comes to a celebrity client.’
More ticks were appearing in my eyes.
‘How do you feel about the travel element? It would mean having to give up any kind of long-term lease, probably furniture, and any semblance of a social life, if I’m being entirely honest.’ Another cough from Megan.
Alison shifted in her seat. ‘London is out-pricing me anyway, all my furniture is second-hand, and, as for family and friends, I hardly see them as it is.’
‘You would see them even less.’ I had the urge to be entirely truthful with Alison, not in an attempt to scare her off, but to give her the full picture.
‘I’ve worked for Pim for eight years and in that time my “time off” was limited and usually spent exploring for a day or two in whatever city we found ourselves in.
I’ve never been able to leave her for longer than three days without phone calls, emails, and disasters occurring.
She’s incredibly needy, and I say that with affection as well as honesty.
She needs an assistant full-time. Someone that isn’t going to go on holiday or return home without her. ’
Alison took a moment, processing everything I’d said. ‘That sounds manageable to me.’
‘Does it?’ I said, sitting back in my chair and laughing a little. ‘It’s a lot. You have to put her before everyone else.’
Alison’s gaze was steady. ‘Can I be honest?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’ve been in a relationship with someone for the last five years and it recently ended.’
I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy. Up until that moment, Alison had been impeccably professional, her answers polished and precise. And yet something about her level of comfort and confidence felt familiar in a way that made me smile.
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘It should have ended years ago.’ Alison swatted my apologies away.
‘I stayed because I thrive on taking care of people, but I don’t need anyone to take care of me.
I think that’s what makes me a good assistant.
However, I do speak my mind, I am no-nonsense, and I know what I want.
I want to travel; I want to work, and I don’t want to be tied down to anything. ’
‘You’ll be tied to Pim,’ I pointed out.
She clicked her teeth, a spark of humour in her eyes. ‘Well, I suppose each of us needs a weight to keep us grounded, otherwise we’d never get anything done.’
I laughed. ‘Have you even heard of Pim Hardcastle before?’
Alison opened her mouth and then closed it, before finally saying, ‘You know what? No.’
I grinned and looked over to Megan, who was nodding with an impressed look on her face. It was refreshing. Alison wasn’t dazzled by fame, she was candid, and she wanted the job, not the gossip.
‘Well, if you think London office jobs pay badly, you might be surprised by this pay cheque. But the benefit of this role is that all the travel, accommodation, and food is paid for. All the money you get is for you and you alone. No bills, no tax, no rent.’
‘No time to spend it either, I imagine.’
I couldn’t stop the grin expanding on my face and, as I looked at Megan’s, I could see she was smiling too.
Clearing my throat, I extended my hand. ‘Alison, how would you like to be Pim Hardcastle’s new assistant?’