Nudge 9 The Offer
The Offer
‘Name?’ A voice grunts over the intercom.
I squeak back, ‘Maddison Clarke.’
There’s a quick buzz and a click as the latch unlocks and the door releases.
‘Floor five,’ the man says.
Evie told Aiden she thought I deserved a lie-in, so scheduled our appointment for 11.
30 a.m. What she did not realise, however, is that Pippa does not share that sentiment, and I was immediately told to use the extra time to finalise Pippa’s expense report and send it to her for approval before I went.
By ‘finalise’ she meant ‘start’, as well as empty her desk drawer to find half of her receipts myself.
She knew for a fact that it was a full day’s-worth of work easily, especially if she were the one doing it.
But nothing was going to stand in the way of me and Evie.
One early morning and a rushed train and Tube ride later, here I am, only three minutes late, at the foot of a shabby-chic brownstone building just off Bond Street.
The lobby is just as gorgeous as the outside, complete with light stone walls and pale-pink sofas leading straight to the lift that takes pride of place in the centre of the room.
I press the button without even looking for an alternative.
After the way I power-walked from the station, the last thing I need is to battle five flights of what I can assume are probably inexplicably gorgeous stairs.
‘Maddison!’ Evie exclaims as the door slides open to reveal the most beautiful loft I have ever seen.
She runs over to me, engulfing me in a hug, hints of oak and vanilla and cocoa butter dancing their way up my nose.
She smells as amazing as she looks; I knew that she would, but it’s different to experience it in person.
The tighter she squeezes, the more I try to process the fact that Evie Eesuola is hugging me right now.
‘Let me take your coat. Did you get here OK?’ she asks, taking a moment to look my sweaty face over.
‘Yes. Sorry I’m late! I got caught up with some work!’ I try my best to not sound out of breath.
‘Oh, don’t be silly.’ She gives a breezy flick of her wrist as she beckons me to follow her across the room. ‘You’re right on time. Come in – Anika is so excited to meet you!’
The place is decked out in a variety of plush furnishing and antiques, a bright and colourful theme running through the space.
It feels full of life, packed with ornaments, mirrors and knick-knacks, each one placed far too intentionally to be considered clutter.
Large bay windows adorn the furthest wall, proudly displaying a crisp view of the London skyline.
The light that shines through them casts speckles of golden sunshine across the white-and-yellow-patterned wall opposite.
She leads me across the open-plan floor, turning the corner to reveal racks upon racks of clothes, all hung on beautifully antique metal railings.
Standing by them is a woman, her braids wrapped on top of her head in a bun.
She meticulously flicks through the pieces with such firm concentration that she doesn’t even notice us appear.
‘This is my stylist. The only one I trust with my look. Anika, this is the wonderful new event planner I was telling you about!’ Evie says cheerily.
Anika breaks from her focus, dark skin glistening in the window light as she turns to face us with a gentle smile.
‘Maddison? Lovely to meet you!’ She walks over to welcome me with a hug.
She hovers as she withdraws, resting her hands on my shoulders as she slowly but kindly looks over my frame.
‘You are stunning. Good bone structure, beautiful complexion. This is going to be a piece of cake.’ She turns back to one of the racks and starts vigorously fishing through the items. ‘Do you have any preferences?’
She patiently awaits my response, but I can’t answer because I have absolutely no clue what’s going on. I look to Evie, the deer in headlights that I am, as she smiles back at me softly.
‘Anika’s dressing you for Friday. You didn’t think I’d let you go to the La La Lounge unprepared, did you?’ she asks with a tinkling laugh.
‘I, erm . . .’ I’m stunned, somewhere between flattered and offended. ‘You really don’t have to. I know I didn’t look my best the first time you came to the office, but I swear I don’t wear skater skirts everywhere!’
She stares back at me quizzically.
I try to explain myself fully. ‘My brother didn’t take his clothes out of the dryer and then there was no time to get to the office. I practically ran to the bus stop in the rain and then—’
‘Maddison,’ she says, gently stopping me in my tracks. ‘This isn’t because I don’t think you can dress.’
‘It’s not?’
‘No!’ She takes in my panicked expression. ‘Do you know why I started my channel?’
I know she’s gone from strength to strength in the fashion industry and covered pretty much every area she can.
I know she is synonymous with luxury and beauty.
I know that her YouTube channel grew so huge that the major streamers had a multi-million bidding war to turn Evielution into a studio-style show.
I don’t, however, know why it all started. What made Evie Evie.
‘I started because there was a huge disparity between the life I wanted and the life I was told I should settle for.’ Her voice is firm. ‘I knew that working twice as hard for half as much was bull. If I was going to work twice as hard, I wanted twice as much.’
I blink. Her intensity is startling and maintaining eye contact with her is like staring straight at the sun, but I can’t look away. She is pulling me in, making me hang on to her every word.
‘My parents begged me to get a real job, but I wanted to use my obsession with clothes and hair and make-up to give every other Black girl the chance to be as frivolous and stylish as they wanted to be.’ She takes my hand. ‘I’m doing this because I can. And because you deserve this.’
I don’t even know what to say. It’s too kind and too much, and has prompted a knot in the back of my throat.
‘If your boss asks, we worked super hard today,’ she says, winking before she scoots to the side so Anika can measure me.
‘How’d you feel about glitter? I know it can sometimes be tacky, but not the way I do it,’ Anika says, boasting.
She turns back to her racks, tape measure balanced between her lips as she pulls out the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.
The design itself is simple – mini, with a sweetheart neckline and off-the-shoulder sleeves that drape lightly on the shoulders.
It’s a deep grey – smoky and mysterious, and adorned top to bottom in fine glitter detail.
Each fragment catches the light, radiating perfect tendrils on the patterned walls.
It’s understated yet showy, elegant but simple, and I can’t stop staring at it.
‘Oh, I love it,’ Evie says. ‘You must try it on.’
The pair excitedly hurry me behind the bamboo room-divider, shoving the hanger in my hand and paying no heed to my polite objections.
I unzip it slowly, careful not to snag it as I’m sure it’s worth more than I make in a month.
I can hear them chatting animatedly – already brainstorming accessories and cheering for me from the other side – but I’m not prepared for this.
I’m in mismatched socks and the completely wrong bra for anything that remotely shows cleavage.
I try easing the straps off my shoulders and shoving them into the cups.
It’s bulky and unrefined, and so wrong for the dress.
‘You OK?’ Anika asks carefully. ‘We’ll be tailoring, so I can let it in or out.’
‘Uh . . . I haven’t got it on yet, just figuring out what’s best . . .’ I’m trying to find the most appropriate way to phrase things in front of my sort-of boss and her accomplished stylist. ‘The neckline is a bit lower than I—’
‘Go braless, hun,’ Evie shouts out, somehow reading my mind. ‘It’s best for the fitting anyway.’
I pull my trousers to the floor, cautiously stepping into the dress and shimmying it up my legs. It tugs slightly at the hips, which is to be expected. Kimi always lovingly reminds me that what I lack in boobs I make up for in butt.
‘I need a little help with the zip,’ I say, scurrying out from the divider once I have it covering most of my modesty.
I swivel back and forth, trying to reach round the back for myself while I wait for one of them to rush over to assist, but neither does. Instead, they both stand and stare.
‘Anika. You have outdone yourself,’ Evie whispers, hand on her chest in sheer awe.
‘We need photos – she’s going in my portfolio.’ Anika nods.
They beckon me over to the mirror, turning me to face it as Anika ducks behind me to get the last of the zip.
‘Woah.’
It sounds conceited, I know. But it’s not. Because I don’t feel like I’m looking at me. I’ve worn dresses and cute outfits, and done my best, but none of that compares to the way I look in this dress. Everything from the colour to the shaping makes me glow in a way I didn’t know I was capable of.
‘Sorry, but your bum!’ Evie grabs my hand and twirls me around. ‘This is the one. What do you think?’
‘I love it,’ I say softly, eyes still glued to the mirror.
The material hugs my curves, the boning in the top snatching in my waist and curving out to accentuate my hips.
Even my boobs – a modest B-cup (approaching C on my period) – have the kind of cleavage I’ve only dreamed of, and that’s without a bra.
I’m lost in its sparkles, its shaping and structure, and the indescribable way it’s making me feel.
I don’t want to take it off ever, let alone before I leave.
They both stay standing behind me, taking it in as I turn to catch myself from every angle.
‘We’ll keep the accessories simple. I’m thinking black bangles, small earrings,’ Anika says, jumping back to work. ‘Maybe dangly, maybe large stud – I’ll pull some options.’
She faffs around me, rummaging through drawers and holding pieces of jewellery up to my neck, wrist and ears.
She shoves various clutches into my hand, slips my feet into different shoes, has me twist and turn and bend until she’s happy with what she sees.
But I can barely engage. I’m floating on the high that overcame me the moment I stepped in front of the mirror.
I can focus on nothing but the dress until I’m reluctantly back in my own clothes and sitting down with Evie in a nearby restaurant, having said my goodbyes to Anika.
‘I’m so excited for you.’ Evie is babbling away between bites of her scallop. ‘I wish I could experience the Lounge for the first time again. Are you much of a clubber?’
‘Occasionally,’ I say, trying not to sound too boring.
‘Understandable. I only like going with the right people.’
She finishes her bite, chewing vigorously and swallowing it down, before dropping her cutlery and staring intently at me.
After we left Anika’s, dress and accessories in hand, Evie insisted that she had to take me for lunch and wouldn’t accept no for an answer.
She swore it was ‘nothing’ and that the lunch wouldn’t take too long.
Now here we are, a good two hours later, still munching away.
Do I feel bad? Of course, but I’ve been having a ball just listening and soaking up all her expertise.
At least, I have been until now. Now Evie’s staring closely in a way that’s making my heart rate rise rapidly.
‘I like you, Maddison. You’re so bright, so hard-working. You have the drive that I wish I’d had at your age.’
‘Didn’t you have, like, your first million followers at my age?’ I ask.
She chuckles softly, a proud nod at my clear research.
‘Yes, but if I’d had your drive, I’d have turned that into a profitable business far sooner than I did.’ She pauses to take a quick sip of her champagne, before tilting her head and continuing, ‘How long have you been at Abbingtorn?’
I sigh. ‘Four years.’
‘Do you like it?’ Her eyes narrow conspiratorially. ‘Be honest.’
‘Of course.’
‘Be honest.’
Her gaze is soft – I want to trust her. I feel like I can trust her, but there’s a niggling at the back of my mind that keeps me quiet. I’m a professional and this is a work lunch with a client. A client I absolutely shouldn’t slate the company she’s working with to.
‘I think you’re underutilised there, from what I’ve observed,’ she says, willingly filling in the blanks that I left with my silence. ‘Would you agree?’
Her fingers trace the rim of her drink as she patiently awaits my response.
‘I definitely have more that I’d like to achieve in my role. That’s why I’m grateful for you letting me lead on the Summer Splash,’ I reply. ‘Hopefully after this, I can take on more responsibility.’
‘That was so diplomatic, I love it,’ she says, giggling. ‘That’s the kind of professionalism I look for on my team.’
I can’t stop myself from smiling at the end of her sentence. Empty comment or not, on some level, Evie thinks that I’d be good enough for her team. But she doesn’t smile back, just keeps looking straight at me, a serious expression on her face.
‘I want you, Maddison. As a part of my team.’
She states it without an ounce of emotion, like she didn’t just drop a chunk of gold into my lap. I grit my teeth in an effort to stop myself from choking on my prawn in shock.
‘I plan to take all my events in-house and I need a head of department,’ she continues.
I probably look constipated, but it’s the only way to stop my jaw from dropping open. A job like that would be everything I’ve wished for and more, headed up by someone who I’ve admired for years.
‘You want me to head your events department?’ I say to clarify.
The words sound absurd. Absolutely unheard of. Who goes from assistant to head of events? Head of Events for Evielution, no less, one of Forbes’ Most Innovative Companies of the last financial year.
‘It’s a big step up from assistant, I know.
And I can’t just give you the role – my board of investors would kill me.
’ She rolls her eyes at the red tape. ‘But I like what you’re doing with the Summer Splash and I see a lot of potential in you.
I’ve been singing your praises to the board and they’ll all be at the event, so if you pull it off in the way I know you can, you could bag that bonus and a new job. That’s if you’re interested at all?’
She continues to swirl her finger round the glass, anxiously watching my reaction. It’s ridiculous to think this is something I’d even waste time considering. There’s only one answer.
‘Oh, I’m interested. Definitely.’ My spluttered reply is met with a smile.
‘Perfect!’ She lifts her glass, prompting me to cheers. ‘Here’s to next steps.’
We clink our drinks, the sound rippling through me and hugging my heart.