Chapter Ten
‘We’ve got great news,’ said Ajax proudly.
It was the day after the press conference and we were sitting in a meeting room, one of Esme’s meditation tracks playing in the background.
‘EKArts and Resilience Needs are going on a working holiday! A quick trip away from the office, to brainstorm Chroma, followed by a meeting for possible investors riding on the crest of that wave of enthusiasm. And it’s going to be in… ’
I glanced at Olly. Every day really was like Christmas Day here – you couldn’t move for surprises.
‘Drum roll,’ murmured Olly under his breath. He had shadows under his eyes. I did, too, but they were from lying awake having imaginary arguments with Jack Dillane, followed by me being annoyed with myself for wasting any of my bandwidth on that horrible man.
Whereas Olly… Olly had been on a date.
Ajax was sipping a sports drink rather than finishing his sentence. I gazed at Esme’s smiling, unlined face. She looked happy, yes. But also slightly… absent. Like she’d taken an accidental blow to the head or had a little too much Botox.
‘Venice!’ Ajax cried, and I couldn’t help but jump. He was never one to hit a beat, that man. He’d clearly taken the framed admonition to ‘Expect the Unexpected’ on the wall of his office to heart.
‘Great.’ Olly sounded tired. ‘Also, why?’
‘It’s the city of romance,’ said Esme softly.
Her eyes met mine. She’d told me Venice hadn’t exactly been a happy experience for her when she’d travelled there with her musician lover, who’d written the song ‘Esme’.
It had just come out, so they’d been papped relentlessly, and despite Esme’s status as a body-positive icon now, things had been different then, and she had been mercilessly critiqued over her appearance in the tabloid press.
Maybe she fancied a do-over now that she was more confident and established.
‘We’ll be announcing the date of the wedding then, too,’ said Ajax.
‘Before the investors’ meeting or afterwards?’ asked Olly.
‘Details TBC,’ said Ajax, and I saw Olly’s shoulders sag momentarily. ‘Our main focus on the trip will be Chroma.’
Chroma: the dating app which would connect people through art, because people wanted to be connected on a deeper level.
Not my experience, I thought, then had to mentally correct myself from being bitter and twisted.
‘Remember, Lizzy,’ Dad had said over the phone the evening before, when I’d made the mistake of briefly mentioning my irritation with the lovebirds, ‘women can either age like a fine wine, or like vinegar.’
Later on, feeling vinegary, I’d googled Olly, just after midnight when I couldn’t sleep.
Flash-bang-wallop, there’d been images of him stumbling out of a nightclub with a model the year before.
I’d felt a mixture of glee tinged with an unsettling sadness.
‘Ah, the beautiful people,’ I’d said to Pebble, whose look suggested she was a beautiful person, thank you very much.
I hadn’t felt insecure about my looks in a long time.
I’m plain, I know I am. Hence the bright glasses, the rich red lipstick.
I know how to make a statement and I’m comfortable being jolie laide.
But someone like Olly could pull an all-nighter and, like Esme and Ajax, still look like he was destined for stardom the following day.
I felt the merest twitch of Olly’s elbow against mine, and was back in the room.
‘My EA, Tara, is across the arrangements for the week,’ said Ajax. ‘We want every detail to be right.’
‘Right down to the colour of the towels,’ said Esme airily.
‘Which will be white,’ I said. Everyone looked at me. ‘What?’ I said. ‘Rich people’s towels are always white.’
Ajax grinned, showing perfect, pearly veneers. ‘What we need from you both,’ he said, ‘is a fire speech for us for the potential investors.’ And with that, he began to reel off a list of topics he wanted covered, which ‘Tara will email over to you.’
‘But none of this is about the detail behind Chroma,’ I objected.
‘We can fill in the detail when we’ve worked it out,’ said Esme throatily.
‘Just cover the things Ajax mentions for now. And brainstorm some related content? Do you think you could have something for us by tomorrow? I know, I know, it will mean working late. But you can use my office, it’s more comfortable than yours, Lizzy.
Just dial up for food. We want a draft as early as possible so we can let it percolate for a couple of weeks, and we can add to the content in the run-up to Venice. ’
She didn’t say the words which I knew were hanging in the air. We pay you enough to work late and the deadline isn’t optional.
‘Right,’ I said.
‘I guess I’ll cancel my plans,’ said Olly, tapping away on his phone. It looked like it was his turn to be the grumpy one.
‘Meanwhile, we’ll be selecting the Venice Chroma team,’ said Ajax. ‘We leave in three weeks. And you’ll both be coming, of course.’
‘What?’ Olly and I said in unison.
‘Business class, of course.’ Esme twinkled.
‘Of course,’ we chimed, as though we’d rehearsed it.
Ajax frowned slightly. ‘Good to see you two are so… in synch,’ he said. ‘But don’t get too cosy. We need you to bring your different skills to the table, to spark off each other.’
‘Sure,’ I muttered.
‘Absolutely,’ said Olly, absentmindedly jabbing at his phone screen.
I spent an hour with Sasha, tying up some loose ends on press enquiries and freezing other projects.
I hated the process. And clicking some of my current projects into archiving felt horrible, like I’d run out of time or failed in some way.
Last week, I’d been spinning lots of plates, sure, but it was my normal, everything running as usual plate-spinning, and I felt nostalgic thinking about it.
‘Anything else you need from me?’ asked Sasha, after I’d given her a list of holding messages to send out.
‘I think that’s it for now.’ I smiled at her.
She looked different again: her hair pulled into a high, glossy ponytail, her skin powdered and her lips blood red, like a 50s starlet.
But more than that, it was her expression.
She looked less sunny than usual, and slightly buzzed, like she’d drunk one too many espressos.
‘What’s with the new, new look?’ I said, updating one of my contact sheets. ‘Another makeover? You don’t need it.’
She touched her face. ‘Oh, this – do you like it? I bought the lipstick on the way in today.’ She took a breath. ‘I might have met someone. Very early days. He mentioned how he’s into this burlesque performer, Dita von Teese. I looked her up and – ta dah!’
‘Well, that’s great,’ I said. ‘Do remember, though, Dita von Teese looks the way she does for herself, not for a man. Plus’– I hesitated, wondering how to put into words the harshness of my own experience without revealing too much – ‘the best people fully accept you for yourself. He’s not been telling you to change, has he? ’
‘Oh no,’ she said, ‘he’s great.’ She tilted her head. ‘Don’t you worry about me.’
‘Good.’ I smiled and turned back to my work, wondering if I’d said too much.
‘And,’ she said. I looked back at her. ‘If I’m going to get anywhere in the corporate world, I’m going to have to develop a bit of rizz, aren’t I?’ She gave me her usual sunny smile, and sailed out of the room without waiting for a reply.
As she went to her desk and settled down, I puzzled over her words, which had sounded very un-Sasha-like. Then I looked at my screen and saw another ten emails had arrived in the last two minutes. I didn’t have time to worry about it.