Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
EMMA
Present Day
“ I need a drink like you wouldn’t believe. My day has been beyond shitty. No. Scrap that. It’s been a totally shitty week,” my best friend Gracie told me as I listened to her on speakerphone while wrestling to get myself into my little black dress in the cubicle of my works toilet. Thankfully, there was no one else in here.
“I shouldn’t be too long. I’ve got a taxi booked. It should be here in five minutes, and then I’ll be with you. Order me a gin and tonic,” I replied breathlessly, blowing the hair out of my face as I wriggled into my dress and then smoothed the silky fabric in place with my hands.
“I’ll make it a double. I know your week will have been a shit show too. It always is. Don’t keep us waiting, Em.”
“Us?” I asked. It was usually just Gracie and me whenever we went out.
“There’s a few of the guys from my office here. I thought we could make a night of it.”
I didn’t really know Gracie’s colleagues that well. I’d only met them a few times.
“Sounds great,” I said, even though I wasn’t that keen on the extra guests, but it was Friday, and wherever I went with Gracie, we’d have a good time.
I assured her again that I’d be there as soon as I could and then said my goodbyes before hanging up. She wasn’t wrong, though. My working week was always a shit show. I spent half the time wishing I could climb the career ladder, that for me seemed to have brittle, breakable steps, or falling back into the shadows to avoid my odious boss.
I’d been a PA for the editor-in-chief at the Merivale Echo for four years now. It wasn’t the job I’d dreamed of taking when I left university with an English literature degree, but it was a job. It paid the bills. And when I’d accepted the position, they’d assured me there’d be the opportunity for growth. That my degree was what made me stand out during the interview process. It was why they’d wanted to take me on. I’d told them I was interested in pursuing a career in journalism. But all they’d said, all the promises they’d made, they were just words. They were paying lip service to a girl with stars in her eyes, but they had no interest in helping me. They tried to burn out those stars every opportunity they got. Time and time again, I tried to show initiative. Push myself forward. Give them ideas for leads I’d heard about, stories I could write, but they didn’t listen. Well, they did, but they listened to serve themselves. They stole my ideas and took the praise.
So why didn’t I leave?
I’d tried, but finding the right position in this town was tough. There were no jobs that appealed to me, and none that paid as well as this one. Rent wasn’t cheap, and I still held hope in the back of my mind that one day, my big break would come. That I’d get the opportunity to prove my worth in a world that was cutthroat and totally dominated by men. The women above me in the office, who were doing the job I wanted to do, they saw me as a threat and treated me as an outsider. Life was tough at the Merivale Echo, but even tougher working under Stephen Gold’s dictatorship. The boss from hell.
I shoved my phone into my purse and picked my rucksack, with my work clothes in, up off the cubicle floor. Then I opened the cubicle door and went over to the wash basins to wash my hands and do the last check of my hair and makeup. My dark brown curls were actually playing nicely tonight, falling perfectly over my shoulders. That hardly ever happened, but I’d take it. I didn’t look half bad.
“You’ve got this, Belmont,” I told my reflection in the mirror. Then I straightened my back, strode confidently to the door, and left the bathroom to head to my desk, so I could stow my rucksack underneath it until Monday morning.
“You look nice, love,” Phyllis, the cleaner, told me as she polished the desk across from mine. “Are you going anywhere special?”
“Just meeting up with a friend,” I replied as I pushed the rucksack under the desk and checked one last time that my computer was switched off.
“Have fun.” She smiled. “And have a drink for me.”
“Will do,” I said and waved her goodbye as I made my way out of the office onto the landing.
I pressed the button for the lift, but it was taking forever to arrive, so I decided to take the stairs. It was only seven flights down.
Seven flights I really wish I hadn’t taken in five-inch heels.
By the time I reached the foyer, I was huffing and sweating, probably looking like a red-faced hot mess.
“Have you seen a taxi pull up?” I asked Leo at the reception desk.
“No. Not yet,” he answered, not even bothering to look up from his crossword.
I don’t think Leo would’ve noticed if a flipping parade was dancing down the street; he was so engrossed in his puzzle. So, I walked towards the revolving glass doors, but there was no taxi outside.
To kill time, I sat down on the sofas in the reception area and took out my phone, in case I’d received a message to say my Uber was running late. But all I had was a text from Gracie with a photo of a glass of gin and tonic sitting on the table at the bar.
‘Get here before the ice melts’ she’d written, and I went to type back that I was waiting for my cab, when I heard a familiar voice bellow across the foyer.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Stephen Gold hollered down the phone as he strode past Leo, who still had his head bent over his crossword. Even Mr Gold’s booming voice couldn’t distract him. “No one else needs to go. I’m going alone.”
I slipped my phone back into my bag and sat back into the sofa, hoping he’d walk straight past me and go outside.
“But that’s absurd. Do they know who I am?” he yelled, making me cringe.
You’re a legend in your own mind; that’s what you are, Mr Gold.
“I swear to God, Phillip. If this is a fucking wind up...” He threw his head back and huffed, then snapped, “Fine.” He cut the call, clenching his jaw as he glared around the foyer, first at Leo, then at Phyllis, who’d just walked in and was emptying the bin beside the security desk, and then his eyes fell on me.
“You,” he snapped, pointing his phone at me. “I need you to attend a work event with me this evening. I need to take a plus one.”
“No,” I said before I could engage my brain.
“No?” He furrowed his brow and glared back at me. “That wasn’t a request, it was a fucking order.”
“But it’s Friday night, Sir,” I explained. “And I have plans.”
“Then you’ll have to unmake those plans,” he demanded, standing firm, not giving two shits about what I wanted.
His chubby face was growing redder, and his jowls had started to wobble. He was seconds away from throwing one of his hissy fits that he was famous for in the office.
“Can’t someone else go?” I ventured, knowing exactly what his answer would be, but I had to try.
“Well, it’s you or her,” he said, nodding over at Phyllis, who was standing frozen to the spot, gawping at us. “But I don’t think she’s dressed for the occasion in her blue and white gingham, polyester apron, do you?” I took a breath as he scanned my body, then turned his nose up and added, “You could’ve worn something less... tacky.”
I gasped.
“I’m dressed to meet my friend. Which I still plan to do. I understand you need someone to accompany you to an event, but there are other people you could ask.”
“No, there isn’t,” he snapped. “Everyone has left for the day, and I can’t call Maisie. She won’t answer if I do.”
Maisie was his on-off girlfriend. Long-suffering, some might say, me included.
I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it again, lost for words.
Mr Gold tilted his head.
“Do you like your job, Miss Belmont?”
No.
“Yes.” I swallowed, waiting expectantly for what he was about to say next.
“I should probably rephrase that. Do you need this job, Miss Belmont?”
Yes.
Do you know how much rent costs these days?
I’m one payday away from being up shit creek.
But I didn’t say that, I just nodded.
He folded his arms, regarded me curiously, and added, “You’ve always wanted to better yourself. You’ve told me on more than one occasion how eager you are to write a story for the paper. You said you’d always wanted to be a reporter.”
I’d always wanted to be a writer, but journalism seemed more attainable, seeing as I was already working for them. What a joke that was turning out to be.
He took my stunned silence for intrigue, so he continued.
“If you come with me this evening, I might be able to secure you a byline on the piece that’s going into the newspaper next week. It might even make the front page.”
I had to admit, that was something I couldn’t turn down, and yet, I didn’t entirely believe him. I’d been let down too many times by his false promises. And yet, I always had hope.
“A byline?” I asked, sitting forward slightly to show my interest. “With my full name? I’d get to write a piece for the paper, and you’d give me the credit?”
“Yes,” he replied and then, peering outside, he said, “But we need to leave now. My limo is waiting, and I need to get this over with.”
Get it over with? That didn’t sound like a front-page, show-stopping event. But this was the closest I’d come to taking the next step on my career ladder in the whole four years that I’d been here.
I knew I was probably making the shittiest decision for my night, but this time, I was ignoring my gut and letting hope lead the way.
“Fine. I’ll go,” I said, standing up, nerves fluttering in my stomach, warning me that I’d just given in way too easily and I had no idea whether it’d pay off. God, I really hoped it paid off. I couldn’t stand being stagnant in my job for much longer.
He didn’t wait for me to walk over to him or offer to hold the door open for me. When he heard me agree, he just turned his back and strode out of the building towards his driver, who was waiting beside his limo. He left me to trail behind him as he called over his shoulder, “Don’t make me late, Miss Belmont. I’d hate for your career to be over before it’s even started.” And then he smiled to himself as he added, “What you’re about to see tonight is going to make your hair curl even tighter.”