Chapter Forty
Money buys you an in to all the best places, and it also provides an out, too. That night, Ajax decided it was time to get out of Dodge, and by the morning he and his closest staff had gone, including Olly.
I knew this because Olly had messaged me. Several times. Progressively later and later, but I could not bring myself to reply.
OLLY: I’m sorry.
OLLY: Lizzy, I’m so sorry.
OLLY: I just went into emergency mode.
OLLY: Please, will you speak to me? Tell me I’ve been an asshole and let me apologise.
At midnight, woken from an exhausted doze, still feeling empty, cold and hurt, I sent him one line.
LIZZY: If you send me one more message I will block you.
He left me in peace after that. Early that morning, I received an email to say that the belongings of Resilience Needs staff who had moved to The Hexagon were already being removed to their offices in Clerkenwell.
Chroma would be a collaborative venture, but there would be a brief hiatus before the project was taken forward.
There was no intention for the two companies to be merged.
Everyone else started trickling home, depending on availability of flights, even though our office manager was claiming she was going to ‘rip a new one’ for anyone who tried to change their tickets at great expense.
The collective hangover from the trip – colds, embarrassment, disintegrating marriages back at home – was going to be a big one.
To give me some strength, and in lieu of buying more cakes, I Zoomed Sara in Australia. She had just finished applying a mud mask when she appeared in front of me, her hair wrapped in a towel turban.
When I told her about Sasha, she claimed to be attempting to raise her eyebrows. ‘I guess with this girl there’s no such thing as hoes before bros,’ she said.
‘Is that even a thing?’ said Dex in the background.
‘Yes,’ Sara and I said simultaneously.
‘Rah to the sisterhood,’ he said, and went to watch some sports re-runs on the television.
I smiled, but the smile faded as I thought about the situation.
‘I thought we were tight, Sasha and me,’ I said.
‘I mentored her, I did my best to be a supportive manager. Before Jack turned up, she told me a lot of what was going on in her life, said she wanted to learn from me, be inspired by me. I thought we trusted each other. What did I do that meant she didn’t see things that way? ’
‘Don’t even think about blaming yourself for this,’ said Sara.
‘But—’
‘Uh-uh.’
‘But—’
‘Nope. I mean it.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve known people like Sasha before.
I’m not being funny, Lizzy, but most people have a work persona.
I know we’re supposed to bring our whole selves to work but most sane people know that’s bullshit.
If she flattered you, then showed you her vulnerability – which it sounds like she did – she was essentially inviting you to care for her a bit, take her under your wing.
And you obliged. That doesn’t mean she gave a monkey’s about you. I’m sorry.’
I nodded. I knew she was speaking the truth.
But it didn’t ease the sting that I’d been essentially taken in by Sasha.
I prided myself on having good judgement about character: I thought I’d been getting the real, unvarnished person.
With Jack Dillane, I’d always known he was a dodgy one; his wickedness had even been part of his charm to start with.
I’d ignored all the red flags going up, even when they were waving madly, deciding (wrongly) it was a risk worth taking.
But with Sasha, not even a bit of me thought she was anything other than she presented herself to be, and the fact she now thought of me as ‘the enemy’ had blindsided me.
‘It sounds like she’s in competition with you,’ said Sara, picking up a glass of rosé. ‘That’s the patriarchy. Make women hate each other and compete with each other for resources.’
‘Why are we friends then?’ I said. ‘When we met, we worked in the same place.’
‘That café was hardly a cutthroat environment, but we would always have been friends,’ she said, ‘and that is because we are both exceptional human beings who have the emotional and intellectual breadth and depth to rise above prevailing cultural norms.’
‘I’m so glad we cleared this up,’ I said.
‘Hon, my mask is dry, I have to wash it off in a min, anything else to tell me?’ she said.
‘I’ve been having sex with Olly,’ I offered.
She all but spat out the mouthful of wine she’d just taken. ‘And this is second on the agenda? Below your regular issue fake ingénue girl?’ she screeched.
‘I wasn’t going to tell you. I just wanted to see rosé explode out of your mouth,’ I said.
‘And?’ she said.
‘It was amazing. Then I told him not to message me again,’ I said. ‘Please note, this is a slightly abridged version of what has happened.’
‘Elizabeth the first, you are one sexy badass,’ she said. ‘My mask is properly cracking now, can I call you back in a min for the deets?’
‘I promise, those were the highlights,’ I said. ‘I should probably go to bed now. So is it okay if we catch up when I’m back in His Majesty’s United Kingdom?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘All right then, you fucking tease. But make it soon. I love you, Lizzy boo.’
I winced at the memory of Sasha calling me Lizzy-Lou.
‘Love you, too, Sara boo.’
‘It’s been taken down,’ I said, watching Esme as she looked out at the lagoon, a commuter boat passing, crammed full of suited workers, just another day. ‘The Skirmish article.’
Esme and Ajax’s lawyers had proved the worth of their eye-watering hourly rate by briskly filing charges of defamation and by representing the photographer who’d taken the shot of Ajax in a copyright claim.
That hadn’t stopped the rumours from spreading, of course, because by that time the article had been seen and shared over seven hundred thousand times, with every Tom, Dick and Harry taking screen shots of the pictures, which were appearing everywhere.
The legal team were doing whack-a-mole every time a picture popped up (I guessed an intern was stationed to watch the alerts every time it was republished), so perhaps in six months the whole story would have mutated into vague rumour.
The good news was, Jack had had to publish an apology about the sex dungeon claims, and the newspaper who’d originally been due to run the story was still happy to have a no-holds-barred interview with Ajax.
I’d been informed of this in a crisp group email from Olly, which had been signed ‘Best, Olly’.
I suppose, considering I’d stonewalled him, I was lucky he didn’t sign it ‘Regards’.
I’d considered messaging Jack and asking him if he had managed to get the Aperol out of his white jacket, but instead I blocked his new number. If he wanted to get in touch, the least he could do was buy a new SIM card. I felt sure he wouldn’t go to that trouble.
As I greeted her that morning, Esme didn’t seem that bothered by the claims. She was pleased she looked good in Sasha’s grainy photo.
‘And I’m quite flattered that they think I’ve got a sex dungeon.
’ She was now quietly occupying the suite that she and Ajax had shared (‘I can starfish in the bed,’ she said), and after a couple of facials and some steaming, she looked as fresh as a daisy.
Sketches were piling up around her as her creativity released itself, and she’d been in touch with Chiara to discuss a possible exhibition of new work.
She’d even had a make-up artist in to give her a newer, softer look: no smudged lined eyes or red lipstick, she was all bronze and gold neutrals.
Ironically for a millionaire, she did indeed look a million dollars.
I stood near her, laptop in hand. She stood at the window, sipping an espresso (having just finished boiled water with a squeeze of lemon, obviously).
‘Take a look in that box,’ she said, gesturing towards one of the marble side tables.
I knew what it was, of course: it had the distinctive red leather and gold tooled decoration of a Cartier box.
I put my laptop down, picked up the box, popped its catch, and gazed at the biggest yellow stone I’d ever seen, set on a platinum band.
It was lavish. The stone was literally the colour of sunshine, but there was something jarring about it, too: the cool metal, the almost too-bright stone.
I turned it around in the light, and it glittered.
‘It’s a coloured diamond,’ she said.
‘I never doubted it,’ I said.
She winked at me. ‘Look at the card.’
‘It’s obviously private.’
‘Go on, Lizzy.’
I opened the folded piece of cream card. Written in perfect calligraphy were the words:
Ez. Like diamonds we were formed under pressure. My love for you is as permanent and as bright as this diamond. I love you forever. Ajax.
I looked back up at Esme.
‘He arranged for it to be sent before’– she waved her hand in the air vaguely – ‘everything. And he didn’t bother to cancel it. Anyway, looks like he’ll love me forever.’ She smiled, misty-eyed.
I had no way of accurately reading this situation. ‘Do you think there’s any chance you might get back together?’ I hazarded.
‘Not really,’ she said, slowly. ‘Also, there’s someone else I’ve been kind of seeing casually. I think that might have more legs.’
I shut the box with a snap and put it back, suppressing my shocked reaction.
Somehow, I managed not to raise my eyebrows.
I took a sip of my own coffee rather miserably.
She sounded bored, as though she was exchanging a set of trousers in a shop, or getting rid of last season’s handbag.
‘I hope this new relationship is very much under wraps,’ I said flatly.
‘The optics wouldn’t be good if it came out now. ’
‘He’s the soul of discretion,’ she said, then whispered, ‘Billionaire. Anderson, who invited us to the ball.’
There was really nothing I could think of to say. So I sighed.
‘Anyway.’ She brightened up. ‘I’ll always love Ajax, too. Maybe I’ll get this diamond cut in two? Have something made for him? An ear stud? He does look fab with a diamond stud in one ear.’
I thought, privately, perhaps they could just have a conversation rather than cleaving a diamond. ‘Whatever you think,’ I said. ‘Shall we prep for this afternoon?’
She shrugged. ‘Fine.’
The meeting for possible investors was still going ahead, with Ajax’s agreement, although as Olly’s ‘best’ email to us all had put it:
He would be grateful if personal matters are not mentioned. These will be dealt with in the upcoming interview.
‘Can I just say, before we begin, I do think this is madness,’ I said.
‘We’re already taking a break on the app development, and it’s not as if the details are nailed down.
We could just cancel the meeting.’ As we’d tempted a bunch of people to attend because we were putting them up in fancy hotels, it would have been perfectly legitimate to call it off.
And it certainly would have been prudent given that personal matters were now off the agenda.
Also, if I caught a flight in the next couple of hours I could be on the sofa with Pebble by nightfall.
‘Fuck’s sake, Lizzy,’ said Esme gently. ‘Give it a rest? I’m doing it.’
I put my hands up in surrender and opened the laptop.