Chapter Eight Ella
Chapter Eight
Ella
Zola and I were standing outside the Flirtify headquarters on Times Square at nine forty-five, waiting for Katy’s arrival.
I had never seen anything like this place – from the endless bustle to the lights to the giant advertisements featuring celebrity endorsements, it was all on such a grand scale that it was almost overwhelming.
I knew that on any other day I would be taking it all in, but today Katy had well and truly shat all over my New York buzz.
I couldn’t believe she had stayed out the night before the biggest deal of our lives.
But I knew I was prepared; I wasn’t going to let her ruin it for us all.
Around ten to ten, a taxi pulled up and Katy staggered out, still in the same clothes from the night before with the added bonus of what looked like a man’s shirt tied around her waist. Her face was chalk-white, and her hair looked like it had been brushed with a fucking toffee apple. Great.
‘I’m so sorry. Honestly, I’m so, so sorry,’ she said, rushing towards us.
‘It’s fine, but we need to sort you out.
Here.’ I rummaged through my bag, pulling out my favourite Chanel bronzer and Mac lipstick.
I began applying it to her face, trying my hardest to spruce her up a little.
Everyone in this city was polished to perfection and my so-called business colleague seemed to have slept under a bridge.
‘What about the hair?’ Zola asked, touching the ends.
‘I’d be careful, Zo. Last night was pretty wild.’ Katy side-eyed Zola, who immediately pulled back.
‘Lovely,’ Zola said, exhaling a deep breath.
‘Should I wear the shirt or not? Mason gave it to me,’ Katy said proudly.
I was in the zone, too busy concentrating to ask about Mason at all.
‘Wear it. It covers you up a bit, makes you look slightly more professional.’ I took a step back and shook my head.
‘It’s the hair.’ I pulled out my neat bun, feeling my hair flow down my back, as I passed the bobble and scrunchie to Katy.
‘I have a brush in here somewhere.’ I dipped my hand into my bag again.
‘Thanks, Ella.’ She smiled gratefully and brushed her hair firmly as we headed into the grand building.
Flirtify was situated right in the heart of the city.
I couldn’t help but wonder how much a building like this would cost to rent.
After being greeted by the doorman, we joined the security queue, which seemed more rigorous than what you might expect at the White House.
Katy was still brushing the crusty tugs from her hair, which was getting bigger and fluffier the more she carried on.
‘Guys, I think I’m in love,’ she said.
Zola and I shared a glance. I could tell she was struggling not to smirk.
‘I had the best fucking night of my life last night!’ Katy continued.
‘Next here. ID?’
I passed over my passport.
‘Look straight to the camera, miss.’
I did as I was told, and an ID badge with my photo was printed. I stood at the other side of the line, watching the storm of people enter the building behind us.
Eventually, Katy and Zola joined me.
‘OK, we’ve to wait at the reception on level four.’
I edged towards the elevator, where we squeezed in. Zola leaned forward to press the button.
‘I went to Central Park! And on one of the wee bike rickshaws,’ Katy whispered, not managing to keep her excitement in.
I felt my face squirm as she spoke. ‘Katy, what’s that smell?’ I asked quietly.
‘Jesus, yip.’ Zola covered her nose and mouth. ‘It’s strong, girl.’
Katy’s face reddened. ‘Is it me? Is it the . . . you know?’
‘You didn’t grab a shower?’ Zola rolled her eyes dramatically. ‘Jeez Louise.’
‘I didn’t have time! I came straight here, remember!’
‘Shh. It’s fine, we’ll go to the bathroom,’ I muttered under my breath, nudging them both, feeling butterflies turning to dread in my stomach.
I was trying to go over the pitch in my head, but with Katy’s disappearance and reappearance in full-on tramp mode, I seemed to be forgetting all of my major points.
We stepped out of the lift on the fourth floor and headed to the reception, where we introduced ourselves and were shown to the waiting area. I pointed to the bathroom, and the three of us scrambled inside.
‘It’s not that bad, is it?’ Katy panicked, pulling her knickers down at the sink.
‘Babe, it smells like BV!’ Zola gagged. ‘Bacteria in that vag is nasty.’
Katy started splashing water up over the sink and under her dress in panic.
‘Fuck. I’m so sorry, guys. Is it away yet? Maybe I should wait here. Let you two pitch?’ Katy’s eyes were watering and I wasn’t sure if it was the realisation of being so underprepared, the hefty hangover she was experiencing, or the smell that had been accumulating between her legs.
‘Katy, look, it’s fine. You stayed out late, you’re safe,’ I said. ‘Zola and I know the pitch inside out. You can stand there and nod that bushy head of yours, OK?’ I said, gently touching her hair, then – remembering what it contained – pulling back.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes! Come on!’ Zola pleaded, glancing at her watch. ‘It’s five past ten now.’
‘I’d better fix this.’ Katy gasped, looking at her reflection in the mirror and noticing the full glory of her hair.
Zola nodded. ‘Yes.’
Katy pulled up her knickers and combed water through her hair, tying it into a small, respectable bun at the back of her head.
‘You good?’ I asked, hearing my foot tap nervously off the floor.
‘Yeah, but I can’t wait to tell you all about Mason,’ she gushed.
Zola and I burst out laughing as we headed back to the waiting area.
‘After the pitch, of course, but honestly, I think American guys might be different! I’m starting to think that maybe I was born on the wrong continent!’
We’d barely sat down when a petite woman in a pinstriped suit appeared.
‘Ella, Zola and Katy?’ she asked. ‘I’m Harper. Mr Link is ready for you now. Follow me.’
I glanced at my two friends and gulped down my saliva. This was it. This was our big chance.
‘Oh God!’ Katy murmured nervously under her breath.
Zola stood, smiling widely at the woman. ‘Just smile and nod, Katy. We have the pitch. We’re going to be just fine.’