Chapter One #2
I’ve been working at the eponymous Kat Moretti for over eight years now, joining the company as Kat’s PA before managing to bag a job as an event planner in my own right.
I can remember the first event Kat let me organize by myself, launching a personalized marshmallow company, and I was absolutely terrified.
Literally shaking! I prepped so hard I could still tell you the exact running order of that party, even now.
But oh my days, I loved it. The buzz when everything went well!
The feeling of elation when I saw how pleased the clients were!
The fact that I was eating marshmallows with my face on for weeks after!
It was like my own personal drug and I’ve been addicted ever since.
Now I’m proud to say that I head up the events team at Kat’s office, but still, the butterflies are real ahead of this gig.
My clients Clio and Brody (code name Cody) are meeting me here at the airport.
I haven’t spotted them yet but I’ll know when they get here because there will be screaming.
Cody are former reality TV stars who have a huge following and wherever they go, madness ensues.
When we first met for lunch to discuss initial plans for this party, a crowd of crying teenagers formed outside the restaurant and we had to leave via the fire exit, which was not nearly as glamorous as it sounds.
Just a lot of side-stepping crates really.
In the six months I’ve been working with them, I have learned that Cody do not arrive at places early.
I just hope the security queue has gone down by the time they get here.
The shuffling line has come to a halt so I open up Kat’s email.
She’s one of those women who voluntarily wakes up at 5 a.m. to get a workout in before getting her kids up, breakfasted and dropped off at school.
Then she arrives in the office looking like perfection incarnate, which is very much not how I’d look if my alarm regularly went off at that time in the morning.
Kat is super successful, wears a lot of animal print, and has the rattling cough of a reformed party girl. I adore her.
To: NinaMoss@
From: Kat@
Subject: GO GET ’EM, TIGER
Darling Nina!
My superstar. Wanted to wish you all the luck in Australia. Not that you will need it, of course, I know how hard you’ve worked on this and am certain it’s going to be a roaring success.
A swell of pride fills my belly.
Quick last-minute change of plan on the job.
Scratch that. My stomach clenches. As a planner, I’m not a massive fan of ‘last-minute changes’. With trepidation, I read on.
I’ve decided to send Callum Bang along too. He’ll be joining you at Heathrow for the flight out.
And now everything is clenched. She cannot be serious? I carry on reading in the hope that this is a terrible prank from the Noughties and Ashton Kutcher will pop out at any moment.
As you know, Cody want to scope out possible venues for their wedding day itself while you’re there. Your schedule is tight as it is, and I’ve decided that a second pair of hands will be invaluable for you. Seems right to send our head of design along too.
Cal is designing the wedding invites, after all, and is excellent at drilling down into a client’s needs. So, please use him as much as you can. Send him on recces, bring him to meetings, etc. COLLABORATE.
I trust you two will work fabulously together.
Ciao for now, Kat
Callum Bang is coming to Australia?
CALLUM BANG.
Thunderstruck, I glower at the email until Kat’s words become a jumble of letters dancing before my eyes. My jaw is set and I’m gritting my teeth when someone behind me reminds me to keep moving.
I bumble forward, coaching myself to take some deep breaths and also to try to unclench my butt cheeks.
A look around confirms that there are no signs of Ashton Kutcher.
Damn it. Plus, my boss isn’t much of a prankster.
‘Ciao for now’ is usually the only annoying thing about Kat, until, that is, she fired a Callum Bang-shaped grenade right into this trip.
‘Argh,’ I mutter, squeezing my phone so hard that it pops out of my hand in protest and lands on the floor.
I scoop down to pick it up, mind reeling.
Callum regularly sweeps the board at my Most Annoying Human on the Planet awards.
If medals were bestowed for dedication to the pursuit of being an absolute bellend, he’d be highly decorated.
And now I find out that this master of infuriation will be joining me on a long-haul flight to the other side of the world?
Just the two of us. On a work trip. To Australia.
I feel sick.
This cannot be happening.
I’m a lover, not a fighter, but if there is one thing I very much hate on this beautiful planet of ours, it is Callum Bang.
Reasons Why I Hate Callum Bang
Oh, let me count the ways. He’s a nepo baby for a start.
Kat is his aunt and I am certain that he strolled into his job at Kat Moretti for that reason alone.
While the rest of us have had to slog away from junior positions, spending our early years making endless cups of tea and getting well acquainted with the photocopier, Callum Bang nonchalantly walked into his head of department role at the end of last year with, as far as I can gather, no prior experience.
Is there anything more maddening that seeing someone glide so easily into a position which you worked incredibly hard for?
To make matters infinitely worse, it turns out he actually is good at his job.
Attentive, creative, always nailing the brief.
The tiniest part of me begrudgingly admires Callum’s work ethic but I’d sooner peel off my own skin than tell him that, what with him being the human equivalent of a cancelled train and all.
It doesn’t help that everyone else in the office bloody loves him.
He slotted in beautifully with the rest of the team and was on first-name terms with everybody within a day.
I thought I was popular until Callum came along and people were practically tripping over themselves to become his best mate.
I have put this down to the fact that he is endlessly enquiring about the health of random relatives and loved ones.
‘Morning, Jan! How’s your neighbour’s cat doing?
Any news?’ That’s how Callum began last Friday in the office, asking after our accountant’s neighbour’s cat.
I remember bristling, as I often do in Callum’s presence, because I was annoyed that I hadn’t been up to speed on all the felines in Jan’s vicinity.
Naturally Jan was thrilled and spent a long portion of Friday morning telling Callum all about Cheddar Gorge (the cat, not the place).
‘So glad to hear Cheddar Gorge is on the mend,’ he beamed, genuinely thrilled and flashing his perfect white teeth as Jan finally came to the end of her story.
‘Do you have cats, Cal?’ Jan had asked.
‘Sadly not, I’m allergic. Besides, I can barely look after myself!’ He said self-effacingly.
Jan, by now putty in his hands, had found this hilarious.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t help but tut because it was such obvious crap.
Maybe not the allergy thing, but the barely looking after himself thing?
Tosh. There is no man better turned out than Callum Bang.
He steps into the office each morning sporting his go-to look, which is Hot Male Model Visits the Library.
Tortoiseshell glasses, dark floppy hair, a smattering of perfectly trimmed stubble lining his strong jawline.
Infuriating.
The most awful thing about him is the reaction he elicits in me.
I’m usually so perky, but Callum has this nail-scraping knack of bringing out the very worst in me.
Probably because, for reasons unknown, he is charming and engaging with absolutely everybody on earth apart from me.
To me, he is rude, offhand, pedantic and quite frankly, vexatious as hell.
I do not know what I did to deserve this behaviour but it’s been this way from the moment we met.
My hands are balled into fists as I near the scanner. I can’t believe we have to endure one another’s company for the next seven days. Put simply, I don’t want to!
I just need to call Kat, explain that I’ve got this trip covered and absolutely don’t need Callum Bang coming along to hold my hand.
(Shudder at that thought). My flights alone were eye-wateringly expensive, why double it?
We’ll save the company loads of money by letting me go alone.
That’s it, I’ll appeal to her financial brain.
Maybe even copy in Jan from accounts, she’s bound to be keen on my cost-saving approach. Also, Kat knows I can do this alone.
Doesn’t she?
A tiny seed of doubt lodges itself in my brain.
Why is she insisting on Callum coming along?
After all, I’m the one who’s spent the most time with Clio and Brody as we plan their engagement party.
Sure, Callum’s been patched in on the odd Zoom meeting.
And yes, I suppose they did seem to really like him and his stupid design ideas. But still.
‘You can’t make a call while you’re going through security,’ says a member of staff as I reach the bag scan. ‘All electrical items need to be in a tray.’
I did know this.
‘Sorry,’ I say, placing my phone into a grey tray along with all my other bits, and sliding them along the rolling conveyor belt.
By the time my bags and I are scanned I am itching to get hold of Kat.
‘Darling!’ she answers.
‘Kat, sorry it’s so early,’ I begin.
‘Nina, it’s nearly six o’clock in the morning!’ Kat chuckles as if this is practically midday. ‘You’ve just caught me, actually. About to whip up a green juice before I get the kids up. Is everything okay?’
‘Oh yes, no major problems,’ I say hastily, not wanting her to worry that there’s an issue with the job. ‘I just read your email and wanted to catch you really quickly before you dispatch poor old Callum off to the airport too.’
I think on my feet, aware that I need to tread lightly given that she’s my boss and he’s her nephew.
‘He really doesn’t need to come,’ I say decisively. ‘As much as I’d love to “collaborate” on this, I’ve totally got it covered. You know me! Nothing will go wrong and this way, you can keep Callum in the office, save on the cost of another flight—’
‘Nina, let me stop you there,’ she says, pausing for a coughing fit. ‘I know you’ve got this covered, but I want Cal to come and that’s the end of it.’
‘But—’
‘No arguments,’ Kat cuts me off. I can hear her chopping vegetables in the background. ‘Don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing. I know that you and Cal don’t get along.’
‘What?! Ha! That’s not true!’ I protest, making some shocked noises for good measure.
The loud whirring of Kat’s industrial juicer fills my ears.
‘You don’t like each other,’ she insists. ‘You try to pretend that you do, but I am neither stupid nor deaf. You’re the only person in the world who addresses him by his full name, for a start. You mutter under your breath every time he has something to say in meetings, Nina.’
I do do that.
‘And then there was that weird atmosphere after the Christmas party,’ she continues.
Urgh. Callum and the Christmas party. Now there’s a thread I do not want to pull at right now. The words Christmas party hang like a cloud over the conversation until Kat finishes some loud juice slurping and continues.
‘Darling, it all boils down to this. I need my heads of department getting along. Think of this as an opportunity to learn and grow. To open yourself up to new voices. By the time you and Cal get back into the office next week, I want you to be best friends. Sympatico. I want you finishing each other’s sentences, sharing lunches, innately knowing when the other one needs a coffee, that kind of thing.
Because Kat Moretti needs a team that gels together. Capiche?’
(The ‘capiche’ thing is also a smidge annoying).
I am standing stock still, people bustling past me on their own quest to get to duty-free, with my mouth wide open in shock. There’s really no way out of this, is there? Kat wants Callum and me to become ‘sympatico’ by this time next week.
‘Capiche?’ Kat presses, more loudly this time.
I sigh in frustration.
‘Capiche,’ I echo with a grimace.
‘Excellent!’ she says. ‘He should be with you shortly. Right, we’re eating into my five-minute juice window so I must dash. Keep me updated?’
‘Of course.’
‘Ciao for now.’
‘Bye, Kat,’ I say dejectedly. Damn it.