Chapter 5
5
KARA
At 10.15a.m., Kara climbed out of her fifteen-year-old, custom-painted Tiffany blue, battered old Mini and ignored the slush on the ground that seeped into her suede boots as she stared at the Clydeside Studio building in front of her. Okay. She could do this. She brushed away the snowflakes that were now falling thick and fast on her shoulders, straightened her jacket, adopted her very best determined expression and began striding towards the door.
‘I am a strong, badass woman. I am a strong, badass woman. I am a strong…’
‘Kara!’
The yell was immediately followed by a scurry of feet and then two arms being thrown around her.
‘Tress!’ Kara exclaimed, thinking that if the circumstances were different, she’d be overjoyed to see one of her favourite people right now.
Tress was the set designer for the studio, and one of the loveliest, kindest people you could ever meet – a miracle considering the blows life had thrown at her. A couple of years before, on the day her son was born, her husband had died in a car crash, and Tress had been devastated to discover that the passenger in the car that day had been his mistress. It was the worst kind of tragedy, but somehow Tress had picked herself back up, and she was now in a relationship with a hot doctor, and they were bringing her son up together. If Tress could get through that, then Kara could get through a HR meeting to discuss the ins and outs of why she was no longer employed.
‘Oh honey,’ Tress blurted, ‘I heard what happened at the Hogmanay party. Are you okay? What’s going on? You know if I’d been there, I’d have totally had your back.’
Kara didn’t doubt that for a second. Tress was a true woman’s woman – as was she, and some could argue that’s what had got her into this mess in the first place.
‘I know and thank you. I wish you had been there too. Honestly, it was a shit show. I still can’t quite believe it all.’
Tress pulled open the huge glass door to the studio and let Kara go through first, then followed behind her. ‘So tell me exactly what happened.’
Before Kara could respond, she was interrupted by a gentleman in a security uniform – not someone she recognised from the normal security team – and one of the assistants in the HR department. Kara grappled to pinpoint her name. It wasn’t someone she knew well, but she’d once asked Kara to run her up a Scooby Doo costume for Halloween and Kara had grafted on for four hours after the end of her working day to make it happen. Although, her and Scooby might as well be strangers given the way the woman was looking at her now.
‘Miss McIntyre,’ the security guard stated, and it wasn’t a question. ‘Could you come with us please?’
Kara exchanged eye contact with Tress, and she knew what they were both thinking – this was like every spy movie where the FBI showed up, and ten minutes later the good guy was having to crawl out of a bathroom window and slide down a fifty- storey-tall drainpipe, before disguising his identity, lifting false passports from under a floorboard and then stealing a Grubhub delivery moped to escape.
Actually, Tress probably wasn’t thinking that, but Kara definitely was.
‘Erm, sure,’ she answered, thinking how ridiculous this was. She’d worked here for ten years, it had been home to her, her dream job, and now she was getting treated like a suspicious stranger.
‘Did you bring a witness?’ the HR assistant asked, deadpan. Clearly Scooby took her job very seriously.
‘A witness?’
‘It was in the email we sent you. In cases of a personnel dispute, you’re entitled to bring a witness.’
Damn, she hadn’t got past the bit in the email where they told her they wanted to meet her this morning. She could have dragged Drea away from her premarital packing and brought her. Or called Ollie and asked him to come – she was pretty sure he’d landed in Glasgow last night.
‘Yes, I’m her witness,’ Tress jumped in, obviously reading the panic on her face. If Kara hadn’t been so intimidated by the whole situation, she’d have hugged her again.
‘Follow us please,’ Scooby demanded.
This was so unnecessary. She knew exactly where the HR office was and would have been perfectly capable of making her own way there. What did they think she was going to do – spray paint ‘Corbin Jacobs is a sleazy tosser’ along the corridor on the way there?
‘I am a strong, badass woman. I am a strong, badass woman. I am a strong…’ She repeated it in her head, all the way to their destination.
‘Wait here please,’ Scooby Doo announced, pointing to two chairs in reception at the HR department. Kara and Tress did as they were told, while security took a step back and stood at the door.
Tress leaned in. ‘I have no idea what I’m doing,’ she whispered, ‘but I’m here for you. Just try not to get me fired too. Small child to feed.’
Kara responded with a smile, but said nothing else, hyperaware of the security guard a few feet away and the HR assistant who had now taken a seat at the desk in front of them. The door to the HR director’s office was closed, but Kara was pretty sure she could hear rumblings of voices behind it.
Almost half an hour later, they were still sitting there, and in that time, Kara had googled ‘how to handle an exit interview’, ‘employee rights’ and declined three calls from Josh, then swiped two texts away without reading them. She had no interest in anything the man she was supposed to marry this week had to say. After that, she’d scrolled through Twitter to see if anyone had posted footage of Ollie arriving in Glasgow last night. It was a weird life when that was the easiest way to track your best friend. Meanwhile, she could see that beside her, Tress had caught up with all her emails and booked a ten-day Easter holiday to Paphos.
That was the point at which Kara’s patience ran out. She’d seen this power play. Keeping someone waiting was straight out of countless spy movies. Or maybe it was Chicago PD, she couldn’t quite remember.
She stood up. Time to test out that strong, badass woman mantra.
‘Look, I’ve waited long enough. When I got the email, I thought I could come here and be treated with courtesy and respect…’ She was making this up as she went along, but that sounded pretty good. ‘But clearly that isn’t the case. I’m leaving, and you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.’ She didn’t even have a lawyer, but again, Chicago PD.
‘Miss McIntyre,’ came a voice from the doorway that led to the inner sanctum of Human Resources management. ‘Apologies for our tardiness. We were waiting for a couple more people to join us, but it appears they’ve been held up.’
Kara didn’t believe a word of it, especially as it was coming from the mouth of Abigail Scary Knickers Dunlop, the notoriously ruthless head of HR. Behind Abigail, Kara could see John Stoker, the studio’s top legal guy who’d sent the email to summon her. She suddenly got the feeling that a costume designer and a set designer who’d just booked a jolly to Paphos were going to be no match for these two.
‘Please come on through and we’ll get started without them.’
Kara met Tress’s gaze again, and got an encouraging nod.
Sod it. Nothing to lose.
They followed Abigail into the office, where John introduced himself, then gestured to two seats on the opposite side of the small boardroom table.
‘Thank you for coming in to meet with us. I must start by apologising.’ For a split second Kara got the wrong end of the apology stick and thought they were repenting for the behaviour of their star and the studio heads. He soon set her straight. ‘I believe you had actually booked a holiday period beginning today. I wasn’t aware of that when I sent you the email suggesting we meet this morning.’
Holiday. For her wedding. The one that was no longer happening.
‘That’s okay,’ she said, trying to keep her chin high and her voice strong. ‘I don’t actually leave until tonight, so I was happy to fit you into my schedule.’
Two could play at the posturing game. They didn’t need to know that until she read that email, her entire schedule today had been, ‘Wallow for as long as possible. Cry. Eat high-sugar foods. Wallow some more. Go to airport.’
‘Excellent. Well, I’ll get right to it,’ he went on, with an air of impatient irritation. ‘I’ve been told that you resigned your position at the studio’s Hogmanay party, and we’d just like to establish what exactly happened leading up to that event.’
‘I’m pretty sure you already have that information,’ Kara said boldly, refusing to appear intimidated, although she absolutely, most definitely, totally was intimidated.
John didn’t confirm or deny. Oh, he was good. ‘We’d like to hear it from your perspective. I’d also like to record this meeting, with your permission.’
‘No. You’re not recording me. I don’t have legal representation, so that puts me at an unfair disadvantage.’
Those twenty minutes reading up on employment interviews hadn’t been wasted. Beside her, Tress was nodding in solemn agreement, although Kara was fairly sure she had no idea whether that was a good move or not.
She could tell that answer had displeased them, but she remained defiant. If anything had become clear to her this week, it was that she’d had enough of people trying to tell her what she should do.
‘Okay, then,’ Abigail said, with a heavy, disdainful sigh, ‘Perhaps you could just give me the details of the incident from your perspective.’
Kara wanted to point out that ‘her perspective’ was the only one that mattered, because it was the truth. She had absolutely no doubt whatsoever that Corbin Jacobs’ side of the story would require more dramatic acting than the double-episode, Sunday omnibus of the show.
‘Certainly. I’m just going to be honest and lay it all out there. Take from it what you will.’ She could do this. She could. Do not show fear. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and began. ‘As you said, we were at the studio’s Hogmanay bash at the Halcyon Club in the city centre. Many of the studio management, staff and cast of the show were there too, including Corbin Jacobs. It’s important to mention that he has a reputation in the studio for being sleazy, inappropriate and way too touchy-feely with the women. He’s hit on just about every female in the eighteen to fifty age bracket, and the only reason he stops there is because he’s also ageist.’ She paused, backtracked. ‘Actually, that last comment might not be true, as it’s a personal opinion, not an ascertained fact.’ Hopefully that would convince them that she was trying to be honest and fair.
‘Anyway, at the Hogmanay party, I was dancing with one of the girls…’ She cleared her throat. ‘I mean, women , on the show. An actress.’
Abigail interrupted her, with the sharpness of a trained interrogator. ‘You’re referring to Casey Lowen?’
‘Yes.’ Casey was a relatively new addition to the cast – in her twenties, pretty, sweet, and she played the long-lost granddaughter of the character who’d been made famous by Odette Devine, the former matriarch of the show who’d retired about six months ago. And Kara really hoped they didn’t ask her opinion on that because she’d be far too willing to tell them that Odette had been treated terribly – the TV soap equivalent of put out to pasture. More blatant ageism at work there.
‘Anyway, I was dancing with Casey and then she went off to the loo. She’d been a bit upset all night because Corbin was repeatedly hitting on her. He’d clearly had a few drinks and he was trying to dance with her, trying to persuade her to leave with him, or to go up to the roof terrace with him. I’d just like to point out that it was minus four degrees, which says something about his state of mind. Anyway, a few moments after Casey went to the loo, I decided to go too, and that’s when I saw her with Corbin in the corridor outside the toilets.’
‘They were talking?’
‘ He was talking. She was trying to walk away, but he kept pulling her back. He was laughing as if that was amusing him.’
‘Pulling her back? How?’
Kara could still picture every detail. ‘She was wearing a chiffon shrug. He had a hold of the back of it and wouldn’t let go. And then when she did manage to pull free of him, he grabbed her wrist.’
Abigail Dunlop was writing all this down, while John Stoker just listened intently, wearing his very best poker face. Beside her, Tress was wide-eyed and engrossed.
‘And that’s when you stepped in?’
‘No. I stepped in when she told him to let go and he wouldn’t.’
‘Are you aware that Corbin Jacobs and Casey Lowden previously had a relationship?’
She should have expected that comment to come – as if it was some kind of excuse for his behaviour. Irritated, she went straight back with, ‘The whole world is aware. They did a six-page spread in OK! Magazine . But since he’s old enough to be her dad, it’s not too surprising that it was over very quickly.’ She knew she was straying into personal opinion again, but her friends, her sister, and 80 per cent of TikTok felt the same way. She got back to the facts. ‘But that still doesn’t give him a right to touch her, to grab her against her will, or to harass her.’
‘And what happened next?’ Abigail wasn’t letting up for a second.
Okay, she was just going to have to blurt this out because there was no way to sugarcoat it.
‘I told him to let her go. He told me to fuck off and mind my own business. Casey asked him again to take his hand off her wrist and she was getting really upset at this point. He didn’t. I told him he was a lecherous prick and he leaned right into my face and screamed at me, calling me a word I won’t repeat but it starts with a C and it came with so much venom that some of his spittle landed on my face. He still hadn’t let Casey go and I could see she was getting more and more upset. So I stamped on his foot while wearing the stilettoes I’d borrowed from my sister – who still doesn’t know about that detail, incidentally – then I heard his toes crunch and he screamed. But he also released her, so mission accomplished.’
‘So you attacked him?’ John Stoker clarified.
Kara shook her head. ‘No. I acted in self-defence in order to make him stop behaving in an aggressive way to both my friend and myself.’ She tried to say that with as much confidence as possible, but if this ever saw the inside of a courtroom, she wasn’t sure a jury would see it that way. That was a problem for another day.
‘At that point, Jeremy Hill appeared.’ He was the head of production on the show. ‘Corbin was demanding medical attention by this time, and ranting and raving… He told Mr Hill what I’d done, and we then had a very tense conversation, that boiled down to Mr Hill telling me that physical violence was a sackable offence.’
‘To which you replied?’ Abigail’s tone remained scarily blunt.
Kara’s face began to burn. ‘To which I replied…’ She stopped again, this time to raise a question. ‘Do you want me to use the actual words? I was highly infuriated at this point and my professionalism may have wavered.’
Beside her, Kara could see that Tress was biting her bottom lip, her expression a combination of dread and horror.
‘Yes. Exact words please.’
Oh, sweet Jesus. Kara took a deep breath.
‘I said that I wouldn’t want to work for a company that would employ a sleazy twat like Corbin Jacobs anyway, so I quit and he could shove his job. Effective immediately.’
There was a silence as they all processed the facts of that exchange. Kara wasn’t sure if she felt better or worse for retelling it. John Stoker was now whispering something to Abigail, his hand strategically placed so Kara couldn’t even get a sense of what he was saying.
Tress took advantage of the pause in proceedings to lean into her ear. ‘You’re a fricking rock star. You should have broken his other foot too.’
That made Kara feel slightly better until Abigail chimed in with, ‘Obviously we still have other people to speak to as part of our investigation, including Mr Jacobs, Mr Hill and Miss Lowden. But I do have one more question. Do you still stand by the position that you’re resigning your employment here, no matter the findings and consequences of our investigation?’
‘No!’ her internal voice screamed. ‘I’m skint, homeless, and living out of a suitcase and a bin bag!’
‘Yes,’ she said, holding her chin high again. She had integrity. Morals. Values. And a loan she’d taken out to go to LA to visit Ollie last summer, but she wasn’t going to worry about that right now. What mattered was that she wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of firing her. ‘I won’t work here if Corbin Jacobs remains part of this studio.’
Another long pause and she knew what they were thinking. She was dispensable. The star of the show was not.
‘Then I thank you for your time this morning. We’ll be in touch to let you know the outcome of our investigation.’ Abigail didn’t even crack a smile to accompany her dismissive nod.
Taking the hint, Kara and Tress got up and made for the door. So that was that, then. Her career, her job that she loved, one that she was bloody good at, all gone because of one misogynistic, aggressive twat.
Tress was closest to the door, so she left the room first, partially blocking Kara’s view of the reception area. Which was probably why it took her several seconds to register that Corbin Jacobs was standing there. Or rather, leaning there, on a set of crutches, with one foot in a plaster cast that went up to his knee, wearing a smug grin she’d pay money to wipe off.
And standing next to him was the head of Public Relations for the studio, a suave operator who had also been hired as Corbin’s personal PR guru. He had been there at the party too, had caught the tail end of the altercation. He’d watched Corbin scream in her face and call her a C.U… She couldn’t even process the rest of that thought. He was the man who’d quickly gone into damage control mode, automatically doing what was best for his clients, Corbin and Jeremy. He was the man who’d told her she’d been wrong, that she had to forget it ever happened, and that she should basically beg Corbin and Jeremy for forgiveness. He was the man who’d watched both her and Casey suffer the abuse Corbin had doled out that night, and who still, still , chose to represent him, instead of being on the right side of this. Even when she’d begged him.
Oh, and he was supposed to be on holiday today too, yet here he was, still standing by that scumbag’s side.
Yep, there, staring straight at her with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher, was her now-ex-fiancé, Josh Jackson.