5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
‘ H ave we been burgled?’ Evie had walked into her office, two coffees in a tray in one hand, her phone in the other. She’d had a terrible night, with very little sleep as she’d spent it tossing and turning in her bed thinking about James. About the prom. About their love and missed opportunities, and his most recent demeanour. Functioning on barely two hours’ sleep, what she needed was a day of feigning work at her desk whilst attempting to sleep with her eyes open.
Instead she’d been met with chaos. Paper was all over the floor, fabric samples were scattered across both desks and Grace was in the middle of the whirlwind, her hair fixed up with a pencil, frantically sketching on a large white pad whilst simultaneously having an argument with someone on her phone on loudspeaker. She held her finger up to shush Evie as she took her turn to reply.
‘Whilst I can understand the issue you’re having, you need to understand what I’m managing right now. I need to have those lights delivered to the address I’ve given you in a fortnight. And yes, I know they take six weeks to manufacture. I know they’re made with special glass blown by monks in Tibet but honestly, if you want your company in business for any longer you will get these delivered in fourteen days. Why? Because our most high profile client, you know the one I’m talking about, has decided to get married at their brand new home this summer. But they want it fully decorated, the grounds landscaped and a wedding temple built in time for that to happen.’
Evie sat heavily at her desk, listening to what Grace was dealing with. She waited for her friend to press end and throw her phone on the floor before bringing her a coffee in the middle of the interior design detritus which littered the room.
‘It’s just the one,’ she said, before Grace said no but her friend accepted it gratefully, sitting back on her heels and gulping the caffeine down. ‘So?’ Evie inclined her head at the papers in a questioning manner.
‘I’m officially living in a nightmare. Malcolm called me at five this morning with the happy news that Cyan is getting married, and she wants to do it at her house. It’s all extremely hush hush as she has a deal signed with one of the magazines for exclusivity to the story, and she thinks doing it at her home will give her more control over who sees what.’
The non-disclosure agreements the firm had signed since Cyan had come on board as a client just three months ago, had put the ones they had with kings and presidents to shame. The popstar, who had shot to fame at just fourteen after winning a talent contest had continued to stay relevant for the past ten years because she was the queen of reinvention, beloved by her fans for her honesty, impeccable sense of style and her unashamed nerdiness. Young girls wanted to be her and so did their mums. But she was also extremely private. When she became a client, Grace, as the most experienced designer had been immediately put on her account. Which, as it turned out due to the star’s frequently changing design needs, had been a blessing and a curse.
‘What can I do?’ Evie saw the drawn expression on her friend’s face, who was subconsciously rubbing her stomach. ‘Set me to work. I can do anything you need, even if it’s bringing you food – I just don’t want you making yourself ill over this,’ she said, hugging Grace.
‘I'm a bit peckish, but I’m still feeling sick in the mornings,’ Grace admitted, then looked around as the reality of what was expected of her fully dawned. ‘But I think I will need your help on this too.’
Diving for her soft black leather Margaux bag, gifted to Evie by a benevolent client and one of her most treasured possessions, she had a quick look through for something to stave off Grace’s hunger pains. She didn’t usually accept gifts, but when the client who’d been thrilled with the work she’d done on his three yachts, which included one for him, one for his wife and one for his mistress – had presented her with the bag of her dreams, who was she to say no?
‘Found it,’ proudly brandishing an apple and a three pack of biscuits, taken from a hotel stay just a week before, Evie crossed back to her friend and handed them to her.
‘Biscuits? You carry biscuits in your bag?’ Grace shook her head with good humour. ‘Is there any eventuality you’re not prepared for?’ Evie’s level of preparedness was the cause of a lot of jokes between the two of them, but she knew her friend was only being kind. ‘I don’t have any Tibetan lights in there,’ she said, referring to the conversation Grace had been having earlier.
Immediately her friend’s face fell. ‘Don’t remind me. Oh this is all going to end terribly, I’m sure of it.’ She hid her face in her hands and did the quietest scream. ‘Okay, it’s all going to be fine, isn’t it? It’s going to be fine,’ she repeated, more to herself than Evie. ‘Just a house to design and decorate and some sort of temporary wedding venue to create and build. In less than a month. Absolutely fine,’ she said with zero conviction.
‘I’m here, I’ll do whatever you need.’
Grace held Evie’s hand. ‘I’m so glad you said that but I should warn you, everyone who’s available is being pulled onto this including…’
‘Morning, my office in five okay Grace?’ James appeared around the doorway, leaning on the frame, a light grin on his face which froze in place when he locked eyes with Evie.
‘Absolutely. We’ll just get this lot gathered together,’ Grace gestured to show the current floor status.
James rubbed a hand through his hair. ‘We?’
Evie hadn’t moved, she hated herself for it but just being near him made her heart beat quicker. Not helped by going through a photo album last night which contained pictures from their year together. He’d given it to her as a one-year anniversary present and she hadn’t been able to part with it. Instead she occasionally took it down from the shelf where it gathered dust, to look through the images and torture herself with it. Last night had been particularly bad as now she could see the man he was going to become in those photos. The jawline. The strength in his shoulders.
‘We?’ James prompted, bringing Evie back to Earth with a jolt.
‘Sorry, yes, I’m helping Grace. She needs as much as she can,’ Evie mustered, hoping her erratic breathing wasn’t audible in her speech.
Grace looked between the two of them. ‘That’s not going to be a problem is it, James?’ she challenged and immediately his demeanour changed towards them both. He straightened up in realisation that Evie would have told Grace everything.
‘Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? Five minutes,’ he almost barked out the last command and marched away, Evie watching the now empty space where he’d once been.
Gathering together the paper and fabric from the floor Grace locked eyes with Evie. ‘Well he is just charming. Are you sure you want to help?’
Evie looked at her friend. Grace was weary, beginning to slow now she was in her third trimester and clearly in over her head. Of course she was going to help. Even if it meant working out a way which involved communicating with James that didn’t include talking to him, or looking at him.
‘I’m certain.’