Chapter Nine Ella
Chapter Nine
Ella
We followed Harper down a corridor and into a vast conference room. Tall windows opened out onto Times Square, overlooking the endlessly bustling streets. A handsome man sat at the head of the circular oak table, chatting with a pretty young woman with a short, bobbed hairstyle.
‘Your ten o’clock, Mr Link,’ Harper said, widening the door and allowing us to step inside.
My palms were drenched in sweat, and I could tell by the looks on my friends’ faces that they felt the same way I did. Terrified.
Jimmy Link’s eyes fell on me as a broad smile appeared on his face. ‘Finally, I got you three to America!’ He approached us, holding out his hand in a gesture of pure confidence.
‘Nice to meet you. I’m Katy,’ she said, giving his hand a shake.
‘And I’m Zola.’
He turned to me, his head tilting slightly. ‘Which means you must be Ella.’
Jimmy Link was not only handsome, he was jaw-droppingly handsome. He looked like he might be Michael B. Jordan’s brother, with his smooth dark skin and crystal-white teeth. He held an immediate presence in the room; I could feel his energy and charisma bouncing off the walls.
‘Yes, I’m Ella. It’s so good to meet you finally in person,’ I replied, quickly skimming my sticky palm off my dress before shaking his hand.
‘Please, come in. This is my sister, Fee.’ He nodded to the young woman beside him.
‘Come right on up here.’ Jimmy walked back to his seat, ushering us to follow him.
‘Sit up here, with us. This damn boardroom is too big. I hate how everyone spreads out.’ His informal vibe immediately made me feel more at ease.
‘Thank you.’ I grinned, pulling out a chair and taking a seat beside Fee and Jimmy, my two friends doing the same.
‘So, the floor is all yours, ladies. Why don’t you give me and Fee the lowdown on The Dicktionary Club and how it would benefit the American people. I gotta say, when I read that article, I was blown away by the concept. How did it all come about?’ Jimmy leaned in, seeming excited already.
My two friends looked at me, and Zola nodded her head for me to begin.
‘Well, it actually began because of Katy here.’ I giggled, smiling towards my friend.
‘She hadn’t had the best luck on the dating scene, and the men she was meeting on apps were just awful and getting worse.
We thought: why do we leave reviews for everyday products we buy, for tradespeople and restaurants, but we can’t leave reviews for the men we’ve dated?
The good, the bad and the ugly, you know?
’ I glanced at Fee and saw encouragement and amusement in her brown eyes.
‘So, we developed The Dicktionary Club, a women-only website designed to review the men we encountered on apps and leave honest, reliable feedback – pretty much like Trustpilot – so other women can check out who they might be dating and what you should expect. And, naturally, who to avoid like the plague.’
Jimmy and his sister laughed together and nodded, keen to hear more.
‘It’s genius!’ Jimmy said. ‘Have you considered turning the website into an app before?’
I glanced at Zola, our IT expert, but she was already focused and ready to begin.
‘Yeah, absolutely. I mean, that is the natural next stage, and of course the site is easily transferred with the correct programming skills. Obviously, there are so many apps out there, and we wanted to do it exactly right. We know that if we collaborated with your Flirtify company, Mr Link, creating this type of app would offer unbelievable potential for all of us. We have created a slide deck on everything, if you have time. It runs through all our ideas and the scope, the benefits, the development offer of The Dicktionary Club.’ She sounded confident, totally on it, like I knew she would be.
Zola was the actual brains behind the business, understanding how to code and program to create the sleekest, most user-friendly and professional-looking product possible.
Without her, we could never have pulled off The Dicktionary Club in the first place.
We’d still be stuck at the concept stage.
‘Hell, yeah, for sure we have time.’ Jimmy glanced at Fee, who smiled back.
‘I should probably say, my husband, Travis, will be joining us in due course,’ she said. ‘He’s head of finance here, but he’s just landed from Florida, and he’s stuck in traffic. Don’t let him scare you girls off if he enters mid-pitch now.’
We stood up, shuffling our way towards the back of the room. Like magic, a white screen began slowly sliding down the back wall and the blinds tilted shut, allowing our slide deck to take centre stage in the boardroom.
I took a breath, nodded to my two friends, and began the pitch I had rehearsed a million times – going through the importance of websites like this from a personal safety point of view, delving into Clare’s Law, and speaking about an equivalent for Americans.
I finished up by showcasing some reviews from the website.
They laughed at the examples I highlighted, from the excessive wanker to the hat-fisher.
At that point, Zola took over and explained in detail how she was able to tap into Tinder and the mainstream dating networks, downloading their pool of clients, which allowed us to create our own search engine for women.
Jimmy clapped enthusiastically as we continued the pitch, while Katy did her best to smile and nod just like she was told to.
Zola was finishing off her part of the presentation when the door of the conference room opened. She paused briefly as a tall, immaculately dressed man entered. I felt Katy grip my hand, and I smiled.
‘It’s fine. It’s going well,’ I whispered.
‘Ahhh, finally my husband returns. Ladies, this is Travis. Travis, the Scottish girls who Jimmy brought over to pitch the new dating app, Ella, Zola and Katy.’
‘It’s very good to meet you all. I’m Travis Mason.’ He paused for a second, and I wasn’t sure if he was about to shake our hands or head back out of the room. After a few lingering seconds, he headed up to the back and sat beside his wife.
‘How was your trip?’ she murmured, straightening out his collar.
Katy whispered, ‘Oh my God,’ to Zola and me. We nudged her to keep quiet.
‘Please, continue,’ Jimmy said.
‘That was good timing. As we have pretty much wrapped up our Dicktionary Club presentation,’ I replied with a smile. ‘Thank you so much for your attention.’
The blinds opened again, letting the city light flood in, as the screen rose back into the ceiling.
Jimmy clapped once more, and I felt myself blush at his appreciation for our work.
‘Come on back up here. Good work.’
I felt a wave of relief pass through me, knowing at least that part was over, and turned to Katy, who had gone translucent.
‘Are you OK?’ I spoke through my smile, trying hard not to make it obvious.
‘No,’ she hissed back.
We all sat back at the table, and Jimmy turned to his sister and brother-in-law. ‘Questions?’
‘Yes, I have one. You ladies obviously know the Scottish dating scene very well,’ Fee began. ‘But what experience do you have of American men? How much crossover can we anticipate? I mean, different countries, perhaps different dating cultures . . .’
Katy tutted. ‘The same problems, I’m afraid, Fee.’
I laughed, nudging my friend to keep quiet.
‘But with respect, how would you know?’ Fee questioned.
‘If we were to invest in this idea – which I think has significant traction, by the way – we’d be investing millions.
We need to do extensive data analysis, to ensure the problems women face in Glasgow are in fact the same on this side of the Atlantic. ’
I felt my heart sink. Shit. She was right. We hadn’t spent enough time exploring the dating scene in America. I mean, I had watched movies, TV shows, insta reels and seen similar issues, but I didn’t have hardcore evidence that the fuck boy epidemic was worldwide.
‘I understand,’ I agreed, feeling a wave of defeat.
‘Oh, it’s the same as Glasgow,’ Katy piped up. ‘If not worse.’
Jesus Christ, what was wrong with her? I wasn’t sure if the jet lag had got out of control or if her hangover dehydration was causing some weird psychosis.
Zola laughed in a faux-cheery way, trying her best to cover up for our friend.
‘And how is that? Where is the evidence?’ Fee questioned.
‘I am the evidence!’ Katy called out, rising to her feet. ‘Me!’
I stared at Zola, who looked as freaked out as I was.
‘Hahaha, sit down,’ Zola warned.
But Katy began pacing. ‘Last night I arrived in this gorgeous, mind-blowing city and went on my first Tinder date.’ Her voice trembled.
If she was about to confess her love for the American guy she met less than twenty-four hours ago, she’d ruin the entire pitch.
We were trying to expose the flaws of dating apps, not present a perfect NYC love story.
‘Uh-huh?’ Fee replied, completely engrossed.
‘We went for cocktails, and he decided to take me on a whistlestop tour of New York since I’d only just arrived. One thing led to another . . .’
I edged forward, eyeballing Zola. What the fuck was Katy doing?
‘And before I knew it, I was back at his high-end hotel room – taking part in the devil’s tango, if you get me, Fee?’
Sitting beside Fee, Travis let out an enormous cough. Jesus, I felt for him. This poor guy must be wondering what the hell he’d walked into.
Zola stood up. ‘Babe, come on. Fun as it sounds, these lovely people do not want to hear about your sex life.’
‘Devil’s tango!’ Fee shook her head and for a hot moment I was genuinely afraid we were about to be deported. Then she leaned back in her chair and grinned. ‘Oh, girl, we do! Trust me, we seriously live for the drama. What happened next?’
Zola slowly sat back in her chair, covering her face with her hand.
‘Well, we did the tangoing, no messing. Nine times, if we’re collecting data here.’ Katy let out a puff, as if she’d run a marathon. ‘And I really had high hopes he could be the one, you know. But as I left the hotel room, I . . . I . . .’
Zola and I exchanged confused looks. Before she’d stepped into this meeting, Katy had been happier than Donald Trump at a Miss Universe beauty pageant with this guy.
‘I saw a message pop up on his phone. From . . . from his wife! He was working away and obviously thought he’d dip his dick in a dippy Scottish tourist who didn’t know better.’ Her eyes were filling with tears.
Jesus H. Christ, give this girl an Oscar, I thought.
‘Wow, honey.’ Fee let out a low whistle of disbelief. ‘You don’t deserve a douche like that.’
I agreed as sympathetically as I could.
‘So, you see? It’s a global problem,’ Zola concluded, holding up her hands. ‘A default option for sleazes the world over.’
‘Jesus, it makes me glad I skipped the apps,’ Fee admitted.
‘Tell me about it.’ Katy’s lip was quivering. ‘I mean, it toughens a girl up, but no one should have to be so goddamn resilient. It’s time, let’s face it, for a reckoning—’
‘OK, OK, let’s break up for a few hours,’ Jimmy interjected. ‘Travis will review the numbers, then we’ll reconvene to discuss. How does meeting back here at two sound?’
I grinned, beyond grateful for an out.
‘Perfect for us,’ I said, standing up and almost scrambling to the door. ‘Thank you all for making us so welcome.’
As we left the conference room, Zola and I turned to Katy, who was now as white as a ghost.
‘What the fuck was that?’ Zola asked, hissing under her breath. ‘We told you to stay quiet!’
I pressed my hand against Katy’s forehead, making sure she wasn’t about to die on us. No, she wasn’t running a fever.
‘That was him.’ She was zoned out, completely dumbstruck. ‘And I’ve got his Ralph freaking Lauren shirt tied round my waist.’
‘What?’ Zola probed as the lift hurtled back to the mayhem of a New York lunchtime. ‘What are you talking about, gal?’
‘That was my date. Last night.’ Katy glanced up at us, tears falling down her adorable wee face. ‘Fee’s husband, Travis Mason. He’s the one whose spunk we were brushing out of my hair earlier.’