Chapter 7
CLARA
I sigh and save the file I’ve been working on for the past few hours.
Pushing back my chair, I give my aching body a good stretch.
By tomorrow, all the auditions will be logged for Betsy in just the way she wants it.
Everything will be saved to the flash drive she gave me and entered in the exact format she’d asked for.
I’m determined to win the woman over. I’ve been professional all my working life, even if I have been working in the wrong profession.
This is my chance, and once Marco is on more of an even keel, I’ll get Amy back in here too. There’s enough work for both of us.
Terry pokes his head into the office. ‘You’re still here, Clara? Jeff and I are heading to Luigi’s for pasta and wine. You should join us.’
I force a smile. ‘Thanks, but I have to finish up. You guys go on ahead.’
Terry smirks. ‘Where have you been all our lives? Did you manage to weasel out of your other job?’
‘Hmm.’ I raise one eyebrow thoughtfully. ‘Not so keen on the word weasel.’ I smile. ‘But yeah, I got it covered at least. There are a few of us on the team. Someone’s always happy to step in.’
‘Well…’ He nods his head appreciatively. ‘Don’t you go stepping out on us now.’ He pauses. ‘I mean permanently, but breaks are fine.’ He smiles. ‘Luigi’s, though… they do a mean carbonara.’
‘Seriously, I’m fine.’ I laugh. ‘Go enjoy yourselves.’ I’ll have a rummage through the studio’s kitchen after they’ve gone. There must be some biscuits still lying around from the auditions.
Terry shrugs. ‘Our loss, but okay.’ He’s about to go when he stops in the doorway, turning back towards me, his features genuine. He’s no longer joking. ‘And thanks, Clara.’
‘Thanks?’
‘You saved the day.’ He points one long, thin finger straight at me and gives me a wink. ‘Star quality. Seriously. That’s you.’
‘Go.’ I laugh, shooing him toward the door, eager to get back to work.
‘Bye!’ Terry and Jeff chorus, the door closing behind them with a bang.
Silence. I breathe out, the tension easing from my shoulders.
Now I can finally focus without anyone distracting me.
Cracking my knuckles, I dive back into the files, the familiar routine of organisation soothing my frazzled nerves.
Terry appreciates me. He really does. This is where I belong – here, in this office, working behind the scenes to help launch new talent into stardom.
Okay, so it’s not the total dream fulfilled – I’m not launching myself, but that wouldn’t be possible anyway.
Who’s ever heard of a solo singer with stage fright?
It just doesn’t stack up. In truth, I don’t want to be out at some fancy Italian restaurant, pretending to enjoy small talk.
I’m happy here, lost in the magic of making dreams come true.
The phone rings, shattering my concentration. I could leave it, but that’s maybe not the best thing to do. It could be anyone, maybe even Marco. I grab the receiver a little too quickly. ‘Delagado Sounds, Clara speaking.’ I get a thrill just saying the company name.
‘Clara, it’s Minty!’ my brother’s over-enthusiastic voice booms down the line.
‘How did you get my–’
‘Stan. I saw him down the pub. He told me what happened. Just watch out, babe, you know what those music people are like.’
My brother seriously dislikes this industry. My parents struggled to make a living for so long.
‘It’s fine.’
‘Hmm,’ he grunts. ‘Besides, this is not exactly the best timing.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I’ve got a date lined up for you tonight. It’s with a mate of mine.’
‘Minty, no,’ I groan. ‘Why didn’t you mention this yesterday!’
There’s a beat of silence on the phone. ‘Well… you were a bit down on my mates, to be honest.’
‘With good reason.’
‘Maybe but, look, this one I promise you, he’s absolutely perfect.’
‘I doubt it. What’s the dress code? Anoraks, in time for the meal deal?’
‘Not this one, sis. This guy is class. He’s done university, the whole thing.’
‘Minty!’ I sigh.
‘Just this once. If I get it wrong this time, seriously, never again.’
Now that is an offer almost too good to let slip. ‘You mean that?’
‘Yeah. Absolutely.’
I look at my crowded desk, it would be lovely to get Minty and his matchmaking off my back, but he couldn’t have picked a worse moment. ‘I can’t do it tonight. It’s been mad here. I’m exhausted.’ I stare at the rows of unchecked digital files. ‘And I haven’t even finished yet.’
‘Has to be tonight,’ Minty returns, enthusiastically. ‘He’s only in town for one night. You can make time for him. Just this once?’ There’s the muffled sound of the phone being grabbed and passed over.
‘Hi, Clara…’
It’s Tim, my brother’s best mate, his partner in crime. Tim had been on the scene the whole time I was growing up. He’s kind of Minty’s support network. Becoming a guardian must have been scary for my nineteen-year-old brother, but at least he had Tim there when he needed a buffer.
‘His name’s Robin,’ Tim says eagerly. ‘And Minty’s right, lovely lad and great name. Don’t you think that’s a lovely name? Robin.’
I sink down in my chair. Why is my love life so public? ‘Hi, Tim, the name is fine. It’s just–’
‘It’s like Christmas,’ Tim pipes up.
‘Thanks for the clarity, but–’
The phone is passed again. Minty’s back. ‘I told him all about you, showed him photos.’
‘Which photos?’ Tim asks, his voice sounding slightly distant.
‘The one at the water park.’
‘In my bikini!’ I shriek.
‘Nah. The other one. When you’re in the…’
‘Kaftan thing,’ Tim adds helpfully.
‘Exactly,’ Minty says. ‘You’re my sis, sis. No bikinis till you’re married.’
‘Minty.’ My voice carries a warning note.
‘Anyway,’ my brother continues, ‘Robin is super keen to meet my little sis!’
Oh dear. I massage my weary temples. The screen in front of me blurs. I could do with a break, but not my brother’s matchmaking. Although if this seriously was the last time…
‘I’m not a child, Minty. I can find my own relationships.’ There’s now absolute silence from the other end of the line. ‘I can!’
‘Sure,’ they both bluster together.
‘Only,’ Minty says, ‘we know men.’
‘Yeah.’ Tim’s voice booms. ‘On account of the fact that we are…’
‘Men.’ Minty fills in Tim’s missing words.
‘So we’re kind of on the inside loop,’ says Minty.
‘The inner circle, and we just want you to be happy.’ Tim’s voice sounds small, pathetic, but absolutely sincere.
‘I can’t,’ I say, exhaling a long, low sigh. ‘Even if I wanted to. I’ve got way too much work.’
‘That new job?’ Even Tim sounds excited.
‘Oh, Tim, it’s so good.’ I glance around the office: at the gold records on the wall. At the guitars propped in corners. ‘For once in my life, I feel like I’m in the exact right place.’
‘Brilliant,’ Minty says with genuine warmth.
‘Couldn’t happen to a nicer gal,’ Tim adds.
I can hear Minty grunting in agreement. ‘So, we just need to get that love life sorted. Only you’ll need to come now.’
‘Grrr.’ I find myself gritting my teeth. ‘I haven’t finished logging this stuff.’
‘Tomorrow,’ Minty says.
‘Get in early,’ Tim adds.
‘Sorted,’ Minty drawls. ‘Come on, Clara! You work too hard. You need to get out more. Robin’s a great guy. You’ll love him. Do this for me? Last time,’ Minty wheedles, his voice taking on a pleading note.
‘Last time?’ I restate the offer, no one is wriggling out of it.
‘The work will still be there tomorrow,’ Tim says reasonably, ‘but Robin won’t. Come on, Clara. You need to have some fun!’
Despite everything, their words strike a chord.
Maybe they have a point. I have seriously been working far too hard at this.
I’m not even sure how they’re going to pay me.
Overworking is a part of who I am, but my life is a bit of a mess.
I seriously need to start putting myself first. I stare at the spreadsheet in front of me.
I could get in early and tie it up before everyone gets in.
Wouldn’t it be amazing if I could get all the elements of my life sorted: great job, wonderful man?
I glance towards Marco’s empty office. The man is gorgeous, but trouble, and my brother and Tim may have a point; maybe Robin really is worth a try?
They’ve had so many duds that the odds are, at some point, they’ve got to come up trumps.
‘I don’t know,’ I say slowly. ‘I really don’t think this is a good idea.’ But even as I say the words, I know my resistance is crumbling.
Tim and Minty pounce.
‘Come on, Clara! Live a little!’
‘Do it for me,’ Minty says sadly. ‘I just want you to be happy!’
‘It’ll be fun,’ Tim adds eagerly. ‘We promise!’
I close my eyes. They always gang up on me like this to get their way. But Minty is my brother, and he cares about me, even if he has a clumsy way of showing it. Finally, I surrender.
‘All right, all right. But if this is a disaster, I will never, ever, ever trust you with my love life again.’
A roar of triumphant laughter greets my words. ‘Great, we’re downstairs in the lobby.’
They’re in the building!
‘Get yourself down here quick.’
I cringe. I’ve told them so many times not to come into the lobby.
They always leave something. The goblin mask is a case in point.
‘Okay, but get yourselves back in the car. I’ll come out.
’ They can do less damage that way. I hang up the phone and slump back in my chair with a groan. What have I gotten myself into?
When I emerge onto the street, Minty is waiting for me in an ancient hatchback, the engine rumbling. Tim and Minty cheer when they see me.
‘You look gorgeous, C!’ my brother says, eyes bright. ‘Robin’s going to be blown away!’
I roll my eyes as I slide into the back seat. I’ve been in this dress all day. I certainly don’t feel gorgeous. ‘I bet he’s awful,’ I say.
‘Don’t be daft,’ Minty scoffs, his unruly hair flopping over his eyes as he pulls out into the road. The car vibrates in time with the radio. ‘I have excellent taste in men.’
I clear my throat. ‘Apart from the last three.’
‘Sorry about that.’ Minty winces. ‘But Robin’s going to be different.’
‘We can feel it!’ Tim adds enthusiastically.
I shake my head, stare at the streets sliding by the car. The city is glittering in the twilight.
Maybe, just maybe, my brother will get it right this time. Maybe this date won’t be a total disaster after all. Maybe today is the day I nail everything: dream job, dream man, dream life. In the darkness of the back seat, I take a deep breath and smile.
* * *
Only, it is a disaster. The reason Robin is in town for one night only is because he lives with his mum.
That kind of thing might tick my brother’s boxes on the sensible and stable front, but the man is in his mid-thirties, and his mum does everything for him.
She rang him three times whilst we were having a drink.
It was a short date lasting precisely fifty-six minutes.
I timed it. Not only does he live with his mum, he also works for her, and he managed to bore me rigid for over an hour, giving me details of his recent holiday – with his mum.
He even showed me the accompanying snaps.
It’s true, he’s good-looking enough. And okay, so he is kind of sweet, and his mum’s done a great job of bringing him up and squeezing him into a two-piece, but there’s no spark.
Not even a fizzle. I have to admit, the shadow of work comes in mighty handy.
It’s a relief to be able to tell him that, actually, I’ve got a lot of urgent admin to do back at the office, and would he mind dropping me off at Delagado Towers?
He didn’t. Most likely, he wasn’t getting any chemistry, either.
Once again, I cross the wide marble foyer, saying hi to the night porter before pressing the golden button for the lift. It’s going to be a long night.
As I stand waiting, I pull out my phone and bring up the family group chat – Tim is also in it.
Strike.
I write.
You two are out.
That’s the last time I go on a date set up by my brother or his mate. Next time, I’m going to find my own man.