The Plot Twist

Chapter 1 #2

‘Anyway,’ Allie began, beginning to feel very awkward and wishing that someone, anyone, would open that door and rescue her from this conversation. She was just starting to think about trying to find her way back around to the front of the building and starting all over again when Martin suddenly spoke.

‘Do you know how soul-destroying these parties are?’

Allie opened her mouth to respond, but Martin ploughed on.

‘Having to make small talk, having to listen to speeches telling us how much we’re all valued .’ He said the word ‘valued’ as if it was something filthy. ‘How important we all are. And all the while knowing that they’re only interested in how soon you can deliver your next manuscript.’

‘Actually,’ began Allie, ‘I do know.’ She leaned her head back against the wall and stared up at the sky. ‘It’s been almost twelve months since my last book was published. I’ve missed three delivery deadlines, and I’ve now promised my editor I’ll have something for her to read in the next few days. And do you know how many words I’ve actually written?’

Martin turned to look at her, his interest piqued by her confession.

‘None,’ she confirmed. ‘Zero. Zilch. That’s how many. And the worst thing is? I don’t even think I can write anymore. At least certainly not the type of books I used to write.’

Martin’s eyes began to sparkle, a ghost of a smile playing about his lips.

‘Don’t laugh,’ she snapped at him. ‘It’s not funny.’

‘Sorry.’ He held his hands up in defense. ‘I was only smiling because it’s exactly the position I find myself in.’

‘You too?’ Allie looked at him in surprise. ‘But you’re Martin Clark, international bestseller.’

Martin fixed her with a glare. ‘And when exactly did you last see my name on the bestseller lists?’

Allie looked down at her feet, not liking to admit that this was exactly the thought she had had not five minutes before. She shifted from one foot to the other, noticing that the toes in her left foot were now almost completely numb.

‘A while ago,’ she eventually admitted.

‘Exactly.’

They stood in silence for a moment.

‘So, tell me, Allie Edwards, what’s your genre?’

‘Romantic comedies,’ she said as defiantly as she dared. ‘I bet you’ve got a lot to say about that,’ she said with a challenge.

‘Don’t stereotype,’ he warned, waving his finger at her. ‘There’s probably quite a lot I could learn from your books.’

‘I doubt it,’ she huffed. ‘Especially as I can’t seem to write them anymore.’

He cocked his head in interest. ‘Can I ask why not? Surely you’re just the right age to be using your own romantic entanglements as inspiration.’ He held his hands up. ‘Or am I not allowed to say things like that these days?’

Allie raised her eyebrows at him, and even in the dim light of the alleyway he noticed.

‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘this is exactly the reason my books are out of favour and why, I too, find it impossible to write.’

‘Oh, OK. Right.’ Allie didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t deny she was intrigued to meet Martin and to hear about his struggles, but at the same time she wasn’t really in the mood to offer champagne and sympathy to a rich, white man, who suddenly found his views and opinions a tad outdated. But the champagne from the party had obviously loosened his tongue.

‘I’m a dinosaur, Allie. Apparently, I’m completely out of touch with what the readers want. Not able to write anything even vaguely inclusive or diverse.’

Allie grimaced. Given what she knew about novelists of his era, and everything he had said so far, he was probably right. She hoped she wasn’t about to be asked to make him feel better about any previously questionable content he may have written.

‘And that’s just what my wife says about me.’

Allie couldn’t help herself, she let out a big chuckle. Which she immediately tried to cover. Martin flapped his hand at her, giving her permission to laugh, which set him off too. And then Allie couldn’t stop. She tried to remember the last time she had laughed so much and couldn’t.

‘Well, that’s cheered me up,’ she finally said when the laughter had subsided.

‘Glad my disastrous career can be of assistance to somebody,’ said Martin.

‘So, if that’s what your wife says, who by the way I like already, what does your editor think? Don’t they have any good ideas on how to update your content?’

‘I hate that word.’

‘What, content?’

Martin nodded.

Allie grinned. ‘Thought you would, that’s why I used it.’ She was beginning to enjoy baiting Martin.

Martin frowned at her. ‘Very funny. My editor retired five years ago, and I haven’t had a proper conversation with Brinkman’s since his retirement party. And then suddenly, out of the blue, I get an email from a Jake Matthews who is apparently now very interested in the fact that Brinkman’s still have a book under contract with me.’

Allie shuddered again, this time at the recollection of Jake’s icy blue stare. She was fairly sure that if Jake got it in mind to get a manuscript out of an author he would achieve it more readily than getting blood from a stone.

‘What about your agent?’

‘Dead.’

‘Dead?’ spluttered, Allie looking aghast at Martin. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t be. It was a while ago, and it wasn’t exactly a surprise. He was the type to take enjoying a lunch out to a whole new extreme.’

Allie nodded her head, picturing exactly what Martin was describing.

‘Don’t think me callous, but we weren’t exactly close. I was useful to him when I made him some money, but he never seemed especially invested in my career or whether I was making wise professional decisions. My wife said I should have left him years ago, and then suddenly the decision was out of my hands. And as I haven’t actually written a book since he died, there seemed no point in bothering the nice young man who apparently took over most of his authors at the agency. What about yours?’ he asked.

‘Maternity leave,’ Allie said and then before Martin could respond she added, ‘and yes, I understand that for most women, career wise, it’s pretty much the same as what happened to your agent. And anyway, she seems to think I know what I’m doing and that she has higher priorities. Which I guess is understandable now that she’s responsible for actually keeping another human being alive. Have you met Jake Matthews?’ she asked, switching the subject quickly away from Mary Beth, because thinking about her agent just made her panic more real.

Martin nodded and took a drag on his cigarette, which made him double over and cough convulsively.

‘You know those are bad for you?’ Allie said sardonically.

‘Thanks for the advice,’ he shot back, not yet seeming able to straighten up. ‘You know I haven’t had one of these in fifteen years and then ten minutes after my first meeting with Jake Matthews and I find myself cadging one from the production director. Do you know him?’ Allie shook her head. ‘Great bloke,’ Martin said, ‘he’s about the last of the old guard.’

Allie watched Martin as he slowly began to stand upright again. She almost made a rude remark about the publishing old guard but decided against it. She’d never met Martin before, or the production director he was referring to, and really she shouldn’t bring her own prejudices to the party. Not that the publishing old guard had ever thought twice about bringing their own prejudices to the party, or the boardroom. Or indeed anywhere else they happened to be going.

‘And let me guess,’ Allie asked, ‘you haven’t written a single word of the novel you have under contract?’

Martin shook his head.

‘So, what’s your plan?’ she asked.

‘I’ve no idea. I’ve got a meeting with Jake Matthews coming up, and at it I presume he’s going to threaten me with having to return some of my advance, if I don’t deliver a new manuscript.’

This was exactly what Alice had been fearing. In fact, she was so sure it would come to pass that she had already transferred the amount she would owe Brinkman’s out of her savings account and back into her current account to make things easier.

‘The only problem is, I don’t have it anymore.’

‘Oh.’ Allie grimaced, surprised by the revelation and quite how confessional this moment was becoming. It might be awkward, but at least it was passing the time before she could get back into the party.

‘Yes.’ Martin continued, looking grim. ‘Oh indeed. Turns out, having children is expensive. Take it from me. Think twice before you decide to have some.’ There was a long pause while Allie thought about, and then decided against, telling Martin that she was fairly sure having children wasn’t on her agenda anytime soon. She was beginning to imagine whether the topic of children would go down less well with her or with Dominic, when Martin continued. ‘Although, to be fair, I do have one of each, a good one and a bad one I mean.’

Allie opened her mouth to ask Martin to say more on this topic, despite thinking quite how awful it would be for one of his children to overhear this and wonder which one they were, when at that moment, the door to the building swung open and both Allie and Martin lurched forward to grab it before it slammed shut again. Allie held the door open and stood to the side as she let a waiter walking backwards, carefully guiding a trolley of empty platters and glasses through. He came level with her and Allie watched his shoulders tense before her eyes ran down his arms, noticing the well-defined muscles and then recognising a tattoo she had seen earlier that evening. A tug in her lower belly immediately followed as he turned and fixed his grey eyes on her.

‘Oh,’ she stammered, ‘it’s you.’

He straightened up, his eyes meeting hers. ‘It is,’ he agreed. ‘Hello again.’ The way his cheek dimpled as he smiled floored her.

‘Er, hi.’ She smiled back thinking she could lose hours just staring at him and then remembering exactly where she was and how she might go about explaining her predicament without sounding like a complete idiot.

Before she could open her mouth, he said, ‘Did you get locked out?’

She nodded. ‘I was trying to find the coat check.’

‘Happens all the time. Hang on to that door.’ He finished pulling the trolley over the doorstep, pushing it away to the side of the building. She watched as he did so, wondering if that was the end of their conversation and desperately hoping it wasn’t.

‘Do you know where you’re going?’ he asked.

Allie shook her head and remembered to close her mouth, which seemed to gape open every time she looked at him. She didn’t want to admit to being completely hopeless, and she thought that she probably could find her way back if she really had to, but she was also half hoping that he might offer to walk her back. And for once, luck and circumstance were on her side.

‘I’ll show you the way.’

Allie did a little internal cheer, managing to stop just short of punching the air, because really this was just a polite waiter showing her back to the coat check, and she needed to get a grip on herself. Which was hard when the waiter in question seemed to make her entire body resonate with a feeling she dared not give a name to. And if giving herself a stern lecture wasn’t the equivalent of pouring a bucket of cold water over herself, then remembering that Martin was also standing behind her in the alleyway definitely was. Presumably he needed to get back in as well. Allie turned to look over her shoulder for Martin who had gone uncharacteristically quiet during her exchange with the hot waiter.

‘Martin? This man…’ She paused, realising she didn’t know what to call the hot waiter. Waiter seemed unnecessarily distant, but hot waiter went in completely the opposite direction and she didn’t want to be reprimanded by the organisers of the party for sexually harassing the staff.

‘Will,’ he said, straightening the trolley and yet again bunching the muscles of his arms as he did so, which Allie could have done without seeing if she was going to maintain any kind of professionalism about the whole situation. He put the brake on the trolley and walked back towards Allie, whose insides were doing something weird and tingly and had definitely not listened to the recent stern talking-to.

‘Right, erm, Will,’ she said, trying not to smile as she said his name. She cleared her throat and turned back to Martin. ‘Will said he’d show us the way back. Are you coming?’

‘I think I’ll stay here a bit longer, see if I can leave it long enough that Jake Matthews has gone home,’ Martin said morosely. He had resumed his position leaning against the building.

Actually, that sounded really appealing to Allie, too. The thought of having to make more painfully polite chit-chat with the ice man made her shudder. But more appealing was following Will down the corridors of the V&A without Martin crashing their one-on-one party. Even so, she did feel a tiny bit guilty about leaving Martin out there alone.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked, hoping that Martin really was sure and she wouldn’t be kicking herself if he changed his mind.

‘He’s sure,’ said Will, ushering Allie through the door and letting it close behind him. Allie decided not to dwell on quite how rude Will had just been to Martin, leaving him out there on his own, and instead chose to focus on the potential scenario that Will was equally keen on some alone time with her, because surely she couldn’t be the only one feeling these vibes? They stood for a moment in the dimly lit corridor, Will looking down at her and Allie wanting to meet his gaze but worrying that if she did she’d never be able to look away.

‘Shall we go?’ he asked, and Allie nodded dumbly and followed as he led.

‘So the party was that good, huh?’ Will smiled at Allie and then pulled her gently to his side as another waiter came down the corridor towards them carrying trays. He nodded at Will as they passed each other.

‘It was a mistake,’ she said, trying hard to sound as if she was cross with him for teasing her and failing as the smile spread across her face. ‘Obviously, I didn’t mean to get locked out.’

He nodded and they were both silent for a moment. ‘How was the vol au vent by the way?’

‘The what?’ Allie asked and then remembered. ‘Oh right, yeah, the vol au vent. Don’t tell your bosses, but I didn’t eat it.’

‘You didn’t … why not?’ Will sounded slightly shocked.

‘Too big.’

‘What?’

‘It was too big,’ she repeated. ‘Too big for a party,’ she continued. ‘How are you supposed to eat something like that with one hand? And one mouth,’ she added, helpfully pointing at her mouth as if Will might not know which part of her body she was talking about.

Will didn’t say anything at first, he just stopped and stared at Allie’s mouth, making her wish he was kissing her, and that she hadn’t just insulted his company’s food. He turned to carry on, looking thoughtful as they walked along the tiled corridor. Allie was even more aware of the sound of her heels clacking on the floor in the aftermath of her confession.

‘Sorry,’ she said, feeling slightly bad that she had besmirched the vol au vents.

‘Don’t be.’ He put a hand to the small of her back to guide her around a corner and she felt an electric jolt zip through her body. He took his hand away quickly as if he had felt it too. She looked sideways at him, just as he did at her. They both broke eye contact and smiled down at the ground.

‘I’d just never thought about it like that,’ he said, ‘about the right size for vol au vents.’

Allie shrugged. ‘Maybe you could give them some feedback?’ she suggested.

‘Maybe,’ he agreed. ‘So, you’re published by Brinkman’s then?’

‘Yep. Well, sort of.’ She paused. ‘Actually, to tell the truth, I haven’t written anything for ages. I think I’m having some kind of mid-life crisis to be honest. Promise you won’t tell anyone?’

‘Who would I tell?’ he said, looking around them as if a publisher might be lurking nearby just in time for Will to spill her secrets to. ‘And anyway aren’t you a bit young to be having a mid-life crisis?’

Allie looked over at him again as they went round yet another twist in the corridor. Honestly, she did need his guidance, she would never have found her way back on her own. She tried to work out how old he was. Probably about her age, maybe a little older, late thirties perhaps?

‘Well, maybe not a mid-life crisis,’ she finally agreed, ‘just the kind of crisis where you question what you’re doing, how you ended up doing it and how long you can keep doing it for before people discover you really have no idea what you’re playing at.’

Will laughed. ‘Got it. I can understand that feeling.’ He pointed left and Allie obediently turned, wishing he would dispense with the pointing and go back to directing her with a hand to her waist because that made her feel all the internal feels.

‘Hang on.’ Allie stopped for a moment and picked her foot up swaying as she did so. Will caught her elbow, immediately steadying her. She looked up into his eyes and felt her stomach swoop, refusing to feel guilty for the shameless attempt to feel his hands on her body again. ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘I just need to adjust this.’ She indicated the buckle on her silver sandals.

‘No worries,’ he said, keeping his hand on her arm, ‘I’ve got you.’

Allie blushed and looked quickly down at her shoe. He had no idea how much she wished that were true. She rearranged the buckle, taking longer than she actually needed, just so he would keep his hand on her.

Finally, realising that he might start to think her a bit odd, she straightened up and he let go of her arm. She looked down in disappointment at the spot, rubbing it with her other hand, feeling the warmth that his skin had left on hers. She sighed and then reluctantly started walking down the seemingly endless corridor.

‘So, do you work at a lot of these?’ she asked.

He gave her a curious sidelong look as if he was thinking about what answer to give her. ‘Some.’ He shrugged. ‘Just depends how busy we are.’

Allie felt a pang of guilt about her existential crisis over writing a book. At least she was earning, or had earned good money in her career so far. She wasn’t on some kind of zero-hours contract, sat at home wondering whether today would be the day she got a call to work and would get paid.

‘I guess that makes it stressful.’

He looked at her quizzically.

‘I mean, not knowing whether they’ll need you to work.’

Will seemed about to say something. He paused, and Allie wanted to ask him what it was, but suddenly they were back at the coat check, and Will had stopped walking. She looked at the cloakroom and then back up at him. He really did have the nicest eyes.

‘Well, erm, thanks for showing me the way,’ she said, desperate to prolong their conversation, hoping he might feel the same way.

‘You didn’t tell me your name,’ Will said, staring down at her and standing just that smidge too close so that she knew, just knew, that he must be feeling something too. ‘So I can look out for your books,’ he explained.

Allie tried not to let her disappointment show. ‘Allie Edwards,’ she said, wondering exactly what she would do anyway if he did touch her, or ask for her number, or do any one of the things she felt desperate that he do to her right away. She suddenly remembered Dominic and felt horribly guilty to even be having these thoughts.

As if Will could read her mind, he stepped away from her. ‘I should get going.’

‘Yes, yes of course.’ She nodded vigorously. ‘I don’t want to get you into trouble.’

Will cocked his head at her with that quizzical look on his face again.

‘I mean, I don’t expect your bosses would take too kindly if you’re not there to help tidy up.’

Amusement played around his lips. ‘Oh I don’t know,’ he said, ‘I think this is all part of the service.’

Allie blushed and stared at his lips as they parted in a smile and made her wonder what it would feel like to press hers against them. She felt herself go even redder.

‘OK,’ Will finally said, breaking the tension, ‘it was a pleasure to meet you, Allie, I hope I get to see you again.’

Allie watched him walk back the way he came. She had half a mind to chase after him and … what? Tell him that she thought him the most beautiful person at the party and confess that she’d like to kiss him? She could just imagine the look of absolute disapproval on the face of Jake Matthews if he caught them kissing in the corridor.

Not to mention the fact she had A BOYFRIEND, she reminded herself once again. Instead, she sighed and started searching in her bag for her coat check token, all the while thinking about Will and his eyes and his lips, and the way her body responded when he touched her. She blushed furiously again as she handed over the token and waited for her coat to be retrieved.