Chapter Twenty
Ella
By five minutes to seven, I could feel my legs shaking with anxiety – what was I doing?
I stood up and glanced down at the busy street, lined with parked cars below me.
I sighed heavily. It’s not a date. It’s work , I reminded myself.
All you have to do is write one article about this man, Ella, and that’s it.
The sound of my phone made me jump.
Philip: Which buzzer?
My heart dropped to my arse. Fuck. There was no way I was telling him which flat it was.
Ella: No need to come up. On my way down.
I picked up my bag and locked the door behind me, then checked it again, just in case.
I took a deep breath in the hallway, straightened my shoulders and headed down the stairs.
I could see a black shirt through the entrance glass; it must be Philip, standing with his back to me.
I closed my eyes briefly, taking one last breath of courage – but when I opened them again, he was staring back at me through the glass, watching me walk down the stairs.
I felt my cheeks redden, and finally pulled open the door when I reached the landing.
Instantly, I could smell his musky, deep scent, which was becoming familiar now.
‘Hi,’ I said, meeting his gaze.
‘Good evening. Wait – are you nervous?’
I pulled a face of confusion. ‘Why would I be nervous? It’s just dinner.’ I watched him smile at my confident reply. ‘Are you?’
He shrugged casually. ‘A little.’
‘Hmm .?.?.’ was all I could say, probably because I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t imagine this man getting nervous over anything. Did he think I’d find that cute? Oh, the renowned millionaire is soooo into me that he’s nervous about taking me to dinner? Well , I didn’t fucking buy it.
I followed him down the stone steps to a black Audi parked up against the kerb. How many cars did this guy own? As he approached it, he pressed the fob key, and opened the door for me.
‘After you,’ he said, leaning on the door and watching me bend to sit down.
He closed the door, and my heart pounded in my ears.
Why did he make me feel like this? I wondered.
Why was I so nervous and we’d barely even said hello?
I decided it must be a red flag, my body’s own nervous system’s way of telling me this cunt was terrible news.
I pulled it together by the time Philip opened his door and sat down, slipping on his seat belt.
‘So, how did your boss take the news of the gallery?’ he asked as he pulled smoothly away from the kerb and into the flow of traffic.
I smiled, thinking of Andrea’s stunned face earlier that day. ‘She was surprised and happy. Not that she’d ever say well done or anything. But yeah, the entire office is buzzing about it.’
‘I’m glad.’ Philip glanced across at me, and I felt my eyes drop to my knees, too awkward to hold eye contact. ‘Now, let’s celebrate, eh?’
As we drove through the city, I kept my eyes mostly out of the window, occasionally glancing over and observing Philip.
He was well groomed, with biceps that bulged through the outline of his tailored shirt.
But the most compelling thing about him was his eyes.
I had never seen more mysteriously dark eyes.
They made him incredibly difficult to read, and I hated that.
He oozed confidence and charm. I could see why this man would make vulnerable girls like Katy out there fall so hard, so easily for him.
‘So, what’s next on the gallery project?’ Philip asked.
‘Well, I have to make sure enough people come. I sent out press invites today, as soon as we secured the venue. Everyone from the office will be there, of course.’
‘The thirty-first you agreed, wasn’t it?’
I nodded.
‘I thought so. I’ve realised I’ll be in Berlin, unfortunately,’ Philip replied, sounding disappointed.
‘I’ll forward you the photos. I could even make you a sponsor on the press release?’ I replied, still feeling distracted by my workload. ‘I need to start creating some social media hype around it, too.’
‘There is no need for including me as a sponsor, it’s a favour. But yes, it’s all about socials these days,’ he agreed.
‘I do have a good influencer network, but I’ll have to see which brand Alexander would fit best with. Maybe some of the home accounts,’ I said, thinking out loud.
‘Like Mrs Hinch?’
I tilted my head and laughed. ‘Yeah, exactly like Mrs Hinch!’
‘Why are you giggling at that?’ he asked, showing his perfectly white straight teeth.
‘I don’t know. I suppose I didn’t think you’d know who Mrs Hinch was. I didn’t think you’d be following those types of socials,’ I admitted.
‘Not at all! She introduced me to the Minky Cloth. Well .?.?.’ He paused. ‘She introduced my cleaner, and I bought a job lot of them for her to use at my place.’ Philip laughed at himself, and I joined in, shaking my head. ‘Plus, Mrs Hinch is extremely attractive!’
He was right, of course, so I agreed, still smiling at the thought of this man and a box of Minky Cloths.
‘Alexander’s focus will be on showcasing and selling his paintings,’ I continued, ‘but one lucky guest can bid to win a unique commission. When that happens, they’ll book in with him to paint a loved one or have a self-portrait done. So, I’m going to build the advertising campaign around that.’
‘Wow! So, someone wants to buy a giant portrait of themselves? I didn’t think anyone would do that these days!’ He sounded shocked. ‘To what? Hang above their fireplace?’
‘Yeah, I guess. But it doesn’t have to be of themselves, maybe people want one of their kids or something.
Their dog even. Basically, the auction winner will email him the image they would like painted, and he’ll recreate it with his style.
It’s an unbelievable prize, Philip. His paintings sell for two hundred grand a pop. ’
‘I suppose if it’s good enough for King Charlie!’ Philip laughed.
‘Exactly!’
‘Surely your usual influencer market would enjoy that type of thing? You’re creating a unique experience and girls love these big royal events nowadays, don’t they? To plaster all over TikTok and Instagram, that type of thing.’
I gasped as an idea struck me.
‘Ella?’
I was silent as the idea expanded and clarified in my head. This could be brilliant.
‘Is everything all right?’ Philip asked.
‘Please ssssh just now,’ I said and closed my eyes to concentrate. Finally, after weeks of stalling and uncertainty, my brain had clicked into action.
When I opened my eyes again, I noticed Philip had stopped the car at a bus stop near the city centre and was gazing over at me curiously.
‘Fuck. I’m so sorry, Philip. But I think I have to go!’
‘What?’ he said.
‘I know I sound crazy, but I’ve just had a great idea for this exhibition, which I have to work on straight away.’ I felt my jaw tense. I didn’t care what he thought of me right now, I just knew that I had to work.
‘Like, right now?’ He seemed a little confused, but also entertained at my impulsiveness.
My legs were bouncing up and down, full of the thrill of this new idea. I nodded back at him, eager to get started.
‘Well, yes, of course you can go. You’re not a hostage. I can drop you. Errr .?.?. Will I take you home?’ he asked, starting up the engine again.
‘Erm .?.?. no. Back to the office, please,’ I replied, feeling the adrenaline pulse through my body. This was it – I was finally ready to nail this project.
Philip swung around and began driving towards Smart Reputations. I sat back with my eyes tightly closed again, holding my head in my hands, piecing everything together in my mind. A few minutes later, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
‘You have arrived at your destination, Ella.’
I immediately pressed down on my seat belt and smiled gratefully. ‘I’m so sorry about this. I honestly am. But if I don’t work on this right now, I might simply lose it all from my brain. I’ve been waiting a month for this moment to happen.’
He let out a chuckle, baffled and delighted at the same time. ‘Go! Seriously. Can I help?’
I shook my head. ‘You’ve helped, trust me.’ I opened the car door and swung my legs out, saying, ‘Thanks for this. I promise I owe you big time!’
‘Yep, certainly the most intriguing girl I’ve ever met,’ Philip mumbled under his breath.
I smiled at him and shut the door, then watched as he drove off.
I unlocked the door of the office, entered the dark building, switching on all of the lights and heading to my station.
The Smart Reputations floor felt strange at night.
I had only been in a few times before when I had forgotten my purse or bank card, but I’d never come back to actually work.
It felt eerily quiet, without my friends chipping in or slipping me their sarcastic comments and gossipy updates.
I sat at my desk and pulled off my shoes to get comfortable, then grabbed some paper and pens from my drawer.
I loaded up my desktop, desperate to get cracking, my mind and body still thrilled by what I’d come up with.
I started by researching Alexander’s most famous art pieces and studied them intently.
His primary focus was on traditional portraits, which were so realistically done that they almost looked like photographs, with the exception of the bright primary colours he liked to use.
Alexander changed the skin colours and features of his portrait sitters with a unique, hyper-real brightness, making his work completely distinctive and sought after.
In his earlier days, he’d painted landscapes and briefly had a spell as a street artist, doing fancy murals and public commissions.
But his portraits seemed to be the most recognised and celebrated of his works.
Most of Alexander’s collectors were wealthy international businesspeople, but he had painted a duke and duchess before, and I knew that one of his most recent pieces was hung at Balmoral.
I began creating a mood board, focusing on reds and golds.
I sat for hours scribbling, making detailed notes on exactly how I wanted everything to be at the exhibition, from the décor to the floral arrangements to the music.
I even thought about what canapés and drinks we could serve to match the vibe.
I could work wonders with Alexander’s ten grand budget now that, miraculously, I didn’t have to pay for a venue.
Not only that, I actually had the most gorgeous art venue in the country.
I then opened my laptop and created template invitations for the guest list beyond the press people I’d already alerted.
I was sure Zola could probably do a better job, but the adrenaline was still pushing through my veins and I wanted to map it all out while my creative streak was alive.
It was 2 a.m. when I finally I sat back, with a solid plan mapped out. I, Ella Banks, was about to throw the best art exhibition this city had ever seen.