Chapter 17
17
GRETA
‘Hi, babes. I’m just on my way out the?—’
‘Can I come over?’ I ask, talking over Tiggy.
‘—door,’ she finishes. ‘Oh, you mean now?’
‘Yes, now. I need to debrief – desperately .’
‘I can’t – I’ve got a client meeting.’
‘On a Saturday afternoon?’
‘The life of the freelancer.’
‘Right.’
‘I’m guessing this is a dating debrief?’ she asks.
‘Yes. I just spent the better part of two hours with Ollie – you know, the naturist. We have very little in common, so definitely not a match, which I expected, but he is a lovely, lovely person, Tiggy. There’s no way I can write about him in Nouveau Life , even if I change his name. I mean, how many full-time vets and part-time naturists do you know from East Horsley?’
Tiggy’s quiet for a moment, which is probably because I’ve been rabbiting on and she’s waiting for me to take a breath.
‘That is oddly specific,’ she says eventually. ‘Not sure how you’d disguise that – unless you made him a part-time vet and full-time naturist from Hertfordshire.’ She laughs at her own joke.
‘Hilarious,’ I reply drolly.
‘I always am,’ she quips.
‘Well,’ I say, ignoring her self-congratulations, ‘I suppose if you’re not about, I’ll just head home and watch Bouquet Battle or something.’
‘Greta Lennox Davies!’ she rebukes. ‘It’s a gorgeous day and if you go straight home to watch reality TV, I will?—’
‘Reschedule your client meeting and come to mine?’
‘Nice try. Why don’t you call the woman from the dating agency?’
‘You know she’s called Poppy and it’s a matchmaking agency.’
‘Whatevs! Call Poppy ,’ she says emphatically.
‘It’s the weekend.’
‘You know what they say: a matchmaker never sleeps.’
‘Can you hear my eyes rolling to the back of my head?’ I ask.
‘Message me with updates but I’ve got to go. Uber’s here.’
‘All right. Love you.’
‘Love you back.’
She rings off, still sniggering, and I pop my phone in my bag and look about. It really is a stunning day: 25°C, puffy, white clouds in a cerulean sky, the vibrant green of the plane trees contrasting beautifully against the sky…
Tiggy’s right. Being inside on a day like this would be criminal. No doubt Ollie would agree. He really was such a kind, gentle person. There’s no way I’m writing about our picnic – one he’d thoughtfully assembled from his local farmers’ market.
So, that leaves me with only two horror dates to write about – Marcus and Aman. Ugh, maybe I should gird my loins and agree to meet the misogynist – Michael – and make it a trio of articles.
As I make my way home, I decide I should stick to my previous declaration: I will not date Michael, not even a little bit. No article is worth that .
Poppy
‘Wow,’ I say as Jacinda heaves an inch-thick, leatherbound scrapbook onto the kitchen counter. ‘What is that?’
‘You said to bring my dating war stories…’ She waves a hand over it like a gameshow host. ‘ This is a history of every date I went on before I met Ravi.’
She and Ravi, who is Tristan’s oldest friend, met through the agency before I started working there.
I open the scrapbook and on the first page are three selfie Polaroids of Jacinda around age fifteen. In each photo, she’s with a different, awkward-looking boy and next to the photos are handwritten captions with the boy’s name, age, and a brief biography, like Vihaan’s:
19, likes video games and football
‘Jass, this is…’ I say, throwing her a quizzical look.
‘I know, right? It started as a bit of a laugh, but…’ She trails off, tilting her head from side to side, as if she’s figuring how best to explain it.
‘Remember I told you about my cousin, Aashvi?’
I nod – Aashvi was like an older sister to Jacinda growing up.
‘Well, she gave it to me in secret along with the camera, suggesting I document all the blokes my parents set me up with in the hopes of matching me with my future husband.’
‘Your future hus— But you’re only, what? Sixteen here?’ I ask, pointing to the first photo in horror.
‘Well, eighteen – I was expected to focus solely on my studies until I finished school – but even eighteen felt too young. It was overwhelming for someone as na?ve as me, and Aashvi must have seen that. Being older, she was already deep into the vortex. Anyway, she had a scrapbook – her way of coping with her parents’ expectations – and thought I might want one too. It was our little secret – a fun way to maintain some control over the situation.’
‘Oh- kay ,’ I say, trying to wrap my brain around this as I turn to the next page.
Jass once told me she approached Ever After because of the intense pressure from her parents to get married – and to a man of their choosing. But I never expected that their efforts began when Jacinda was still a teenager .
Jass peers over my shoulder as I turn more pages.
‘When I was a bit older, I started including the blokes I dated that my parents didn’t know about – like Kabir,’ she says, pointing to a photo of an attractive young man with a beaming smile.
‘And what does this denote?’ I ask, tapping on the ‘5’ next to his photo. ‘Some kind of rating system?’ I ask.
She laughs. ‘No, that’s the number of dates we went on.’
‘ Oh , yeah, that makes sense.’ I scan the current page, then turn to the next one. ‘So, not many of these guys made it past a first date,’ I say, observing all the 1s.
‘I did have a few longer-term boyfriends in my early-twenties – they’re back here,’ she says, turning to the middle of the scrapbook. ‘But none of them would have been considered a suitable son-in-law.’
‘Geez, I knew about the pressure from your parents, but this…’
‘Mmm, I know.’ She breaks into a grin. ‘I’ve got some brilliant stories, though.’ She flips through a couple more pages, then stops and points to an extremely handsome man called Avyaan. ‘On our third date, we ran into his fiancée.’
‘What?’ I ask with a laugh.
She closes the scrapbook. ‘I told you,’ she says with raised eyebrows, ‘brilliant stories – but let’s wait till the girls get here. When are they due?’
I glance at the clock on the stove. ‘Any minute, but then Evie’s almost always late – it drives Olivia mad.’
‘And has she dumped the boyfriend yet?’
‘According to Olivia, no.’
‘Well, then, we need to help her decide to dump him so she can find her real person. There’s a new solicitor at work who might be a good fit for her – clever, funny, socially conscious…’
I regard Jacinda with a smirk. ‘You sure you don’t want to give up the law and come work for the agency?’
This isn’t the first time Jacinda has actively nudged someone towards love. Earlier this year, she was the instigator of an intervention to move Shaz into Lauren’s place while Lauren was on a work trip. All in the name of love – Jacinda is a closet romantic.
‘Hah! Erm, no. I’d rather keep matchmaking as a hobby,’ she says with a wink.
Greta
‘Oh, were you just on your way out?’ Bex is standing in the doorway to my office, her gaze landing on the handbag slung over my shoulder with my laptop peeking out.
‘I was about to pop down to The Daily Grind to work on my assignment, but I’m happy to stick around if you need me. Is about next month’s issue?’
She continues lingering, her expression pained.
‘Bex?’ I slide the handbag off my shoulder and set it on my desk. ‘Why don’t you come in and close the door?’
She does, reluctantly, and in moments, we’re seated on opposite sides of my desk. She clearly has something to say but, for some reason, can’t get the words out.
‘You know you can tell me anything, right?’ I say, trying to set her at ease, but she recoils with a sharp intake of breath. ‘Wait,’ I say, eyeing her closely, ‘are you leaving ?’
I can’t think of any other piece of news she might share that would warrant her nervous behaviour.
‘No! No, nothing like that. It’s just…’ She sighs.
‘Bex, what is it?’
‘Why wasn’t I brought in on the decision to kill the advice column?’ she asks, finally meeting my eye.
‘Oh! Right, that,’ I say, relieved she isn’t resigning. ‘Well, it all happened so quickly. I made the discovery, then immediately escalated the matter to Anjali… It was decided in minutes – we didn’t really have time to bring you in.’
I don’t add that it wouldn’t have been her call if she’d disagreed with us, as that would just add salt to the wound – it’s clear she’s already doubting her role within the team hierarchy.
She scowls but remains silent.
‘I thought you’d be pleased that we pulled the column. You weren’t particularly happy with Poppy’s submission and?—’
‘You didn’t think it was any good either.’
‘To be fair, it did need work, but setting that aside, it was obvious you were annoyed that we brought on Poppy in the first place.’
‘Because you didn’t even consult me!’ she shouts.
I can tell the instant Bex realises she’s been disrespectful. ‘I’m so sorry – that was out of order. It’s just…’ She looks at her hands, which are clasped tightly in her lap. ‘You didn’t even discuss it with me,’ she says quietly.
‘Discuss what exactly?’
‘ Any of it,’ she says, lifting her gaze. ‘I’m supposed to be the assistant editor of Nouveau Life and you keep making decisions without me. If you’d consulted me about Poppy, I would have voiced my concerns. I’m the one who’s worked with her before.’
I nod slowly as Bex’s words register. I’m not sure what to say, because she’s right. I was Anjali’s assistant editor for years before the vertical – and she always consulted me on any major decisions that impacted the features department. Whereas, ever since Nouveau Life launched, I’ve been treating it as a solo gig, making unilateral decisions without conferring with my team. That’s got to end – and now. I make a silent vow to do better by Bex and the team.
While I’ve been self-reproaching, Bex’s eyes have glossed with tears. I quickly stand and slip around to the other side of the desk, where I crouch beside her. ‘Bex, I’m so sorry. You’re absolutely right. I’ve messed up – without question.’
‘I know I’m only twenty-six, but I’m clever and hard-working and I deserved this promotion,’ she says, still making her case even though I’ve already sided with her.
‘You are absolutely right – and I promise that from now on, I will discuss all decisions with you, and we’ll make them together, okay?’
She smiles and sniffles, dabbing under each eye with her fingertips. I reach for the box of tissues on my desk and she takes one.
After wiping her tears, she expels a long, slow breath, as if an enormous weight has been lifted from her chest. What a terrible boss I am for not realising what she was going through!
‘Right.’ She gets up, sniffles loudly, and tosses the used tissue away. ‘I should let you get back to your writing,’ she says, flashing me a warm smile, then heading to the door. ‘And which assignment is this?’ she asks, turning back. ‘I wasn’t aware you were working on anything.’
Mere seconds ago, I promised myself I’d do better by Bex and I’m about to break that promise already. ‘Oh, it’s just in the research stage, something Anjali wants me to look into. I’ll let you know if anything eventuates – I promise.’
‘Sounds good. Well, see ya.’
She goes and I lean against the desk, hating myself for the half-truth I’ve just told. How do I make amends for that ?
Perhaps a latte and a leafy outlook will give me a fresh perspective. And if I happen to run into a certain friendly face at The Daily Grind, all the better!