Chapter 6
Day five of living in the World’s Grottiest Flat. The thought reverberated around Alyssa’s brain like the voiceover from Big Brother. Just two days until she’d be evicted, and she still had no cash or coaching clients to help pay for anything else.
Right then she was pacing around London’s Victoria Park, taking smiley snaps of herself for social media and pretending to the world that everything was fan-sparkly-tastic.
She was trying to ignore the fact that everyone else seemed to be in twos, as though there’d been an announcement she hadn’t been informed about.
Couples ambled around the lake, pointing at the fountains and grinning.
Others sat on benches, cuddling up against the cold.
Even the solo walkers had a dog to fuss or a friend to stop and chat to.
Well, at least she could take some discreet, long-distance shots of smoochy couples for her love coaching promo.
She was in the business of selling the togetherness ‘dream’, after all.
Alyssa had spent the past few days frantically trying to attract some love coach clients, in all the ways she knew. She’d emailed and messaged and posted everywhere online. She’d even phoned past clients to see if they needed any help or had friends who were struggling.
Then there had been the copious number of selfies she’d been taking around the trendier parts of her new area, from the Shoreditch street art to the Camden markets, making out she was creating an attractive new life for herself now she was temporarily single.
She’d even snuck to the top of an exclusive apartment block and made a video of the London skyline, pretending she was recording from the balcony of her new penthouse suite.
The fakery wasn’t making her feel good, but she had to do something to help her look like a desirable person to work with.
Though none of it was bringing her any clients or enquiries.
Could people see through it? Was she giving off desperate vibes?
The most attention she’d had was from Pikachu the reappearing mouse guest. Well, that and a whole lot of online nagging about a certain love app. She preferred the rodent.
Just as she was trying to pull yet another forced smile at her phone screen, it buzzed. It was a message from her monumentally useless talent agent, Rufus Diamond, whose name was probably as false as his dayglow veneers.
Rufus: Got a job for you. This one’s a blinder. Meet at the usual café? 3pm? We’ll have to move fast.
Much like a diamond, Rufus had shown moments of brilliance when she’d first become his client, all those years ago.
He’d hooked her up with a few TV interviews and speaking gigs that had helped to kick-start her career and explode her Instagram following.
For that reason, she felt a strange sense of loyalty to him, even if these days his dwindling list of clients called him Ruthless Rufus, and he only dished out dregs of questionable work.
He pretended to favour his usual dingy café, so they didn’t get ‘spotted’. She knew the real reason was that he was a total cheap-arse. But who wouldn’t love a free packet mix crappuccino when they had nothing else going for them?
Alyssa: Today? Quite busy, but I’ll see what I can do.
He didn’t need to know her only other options to chat would be with a bunch of randoms on Instagram, or a mouse.
Rufus: See you later, Hot Lips. Prepare to be amazed.
Alyssa: FYI, calling me Hot Lips is not acceptable.
If there was a ‘dickhead’ emoji, she’d be using it.
Rufus: Noted. Though you WILL want to kiss me when you hear this. Just saying.
She doubted that very much.