Counterfeit Love (15 page)

‘Lucy, what are you doing?’

She waved to Mac. ‘I’m just having a look around.’

‘What about editing the piece?’

Lucy shook her head. ‘We might find one of the delegates down here. Come on.’

The cameraman followed Lucy down a long corridor, and then another. She checked two doors and found them locked, then tried a third, which wasn’t. She tentatively opened the door and then looked around. The meeting room was empty, except for a couple of used coffee cups.

‘There’s no-one here,’ Mac said impatiently, following her. ‘I think you better give up. And I’ve got to set up for the next presser.’

‘Yeah, just another minute. Let’s have a quick look in that back room.’

Mac shrugged. ‘It’s your call, but I should get going.’

‘In a sec,’ Lucy said, rushing through another two empty rooms. She’d been sure she’d find someone to talk to, but she was out of luck. Checking the time, she realised she was definitely out of that too!

‘Okay, looks like that’s it,’ she sighed.

Mac handed her the memory card with the footage and she shoved it into her laptop. There was no time to edit the story. She’d just have to line up the sound bite and send that for the next bulletin.

She was looking through the footage when Mandy Cheung called on her mobile.

‘Got the bite from the Malaysian minister?’ she asked.

Lucy lined up the sound bite as she spoke. ‘Yeah, he didn’t say anything, though.’

There was a pause. ‘I just saw him on CTV,’ Mandy said eventually. ‘They’ve agreed to an extradition – in principle.’

Lucy’s heart fell to the floor. ‘I … I didn’t get it.’

Another deathly silence. ‘You’re joking, right?’

‘I went to look for delegates, but I must have missed … ’

‘
Right,
’ Mandy interrupted, then the line went dead.

Lucy dropped her mobile, feeling sick to her stomach. She sent off the footage, dashed off a script to go with it and then slumped over her laptop. It was only a matter of time before someone called to shout at her. She deserved it, but she just wished she hadn’t screwed up in front of Mandy Cheung! She felt like a complete failure.

Lucy was still feeling bad as she and Mac headed back to the media centre for the next presser. With any luck she’d be able to avoid Mandy for the rest of the day. But out of nowhere Mandy came rushing towards her. Lucy’s heart was in her mouth as they met.

‘Mandy, sorry, it won’t happen again. I’m really … ’ Lucy began.

Mandy put her hand up and smiled gently. ‘Crisis averted,’ she said. ‘Just heading off for an interview with Nashir, now.’

Lucy raised her eyebrows. ‘Wow! The Malaysian Foreign Minister? How’d you do that?’

‘I’ve been working on his office for months,’ Mandy explained, still smiling. ‘But they like to keep you hanging until the very last second.’

Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been saved. In an hour’s time, no-one would remember her screw up; they’d all be talking about Mandy Cheung’s exclusive interview.

‘Thanks for not being totally pissed off with me,’ Lucy said.

Mandy shook her head. ‘No-one is expecting you to star at the summit. Just keep on top of things.’ Then she hurried off.

Lucy watched her go feeling relieved, until she checked the time. She was covering a press conference that started in five minutes. She sprinted off after her cameraman.

Late that afternoon Lucy wallowed in her hotel pool, admiring the view of Singapore from the fifty-seventh floor. It had been a long day!

She had elbowed her way to the front of more media scrums than she cared to remember, covered more press briefings than she thought possible, and had just done a live cross because Mandy was tied up with another interview. Lucy was exhausted, but still buzzing with adrenalin. She leaned against the edge of the pool and snapped a selfie with the Singapore skyline in the background and sent it to Charlotte.

Another hard day in the office?

Came the reply. Lucy’s phone quickly pinged again.

Loved your story, BTW. And where did you get that jacket – is it new?

Lucy shook her head. She bet Charlotte had no idea what the story was about, but the jacket – she remembered that all right. She was just about to reply when another text pinged on her phone. It was from Byron.

Great report. You nailed it. How’s the weather in Singapore? Or are you stuck inside the conference venue?

Lucy stared at the message, wondering if Byron had been watching TVi all day to work out where she was, or if it had been a coincidence that he’d tuned in right when she was presenting her report. She texted Byron.

Not too bad.

And then she couldn’t help herself. She sent him a selfie from the infinity pool.

A reply came straight back.

Half your luck! Wish I was there with you. It’s pouring here. See?

The message came with a misty shot of the harbour.

Lucy smiled to herself. For a moment, she let herself imagine Byron in the pool with her. She knew she shouldn’t be thinking like that until she knew who he really was, but it was the sort of place that lent itself to a daydream. She replied.

You’d like it here. Plenty of room in the pool for one more.

Lucy had composed the message without too much thought, but as soon as she’d pressed the send button she realised it was massively flirty.

Is that an invitation?

Was Byron’s reply. She blushed and texted back quickly.

No! Don’t think that would do my career too much good if I spent the next two days in the pool with you!

Byron’s reply came with a picture of a bottle of Moet in a fridge door.

See you when you get back, then. The champagne’s on ice. Well, near the ice.

Lucy put her hand over face to hide a smile. Byron was impossible. She was trying to be dispassionate, she was trying to be wary and, if she was honest, she was trying to use him to get a story. But here he was seducing her by text! Her body tingled at the thought of sharing a glass of champagne with him when she got back to Hong Kong.

The messages from Byron came thick and fast the next day. Every time one of her reports went to air, a text would ping on her phone. But it wasn’t like the
Well done. Good job. Nice eye make-up.
messages she was getting ten times a day from Charlotte. Byron commented on her reports, like he’d actually listened to every word and was interested in what she said. It was totally cute!

Lucy snatched a moment to herself on the poolside terrace that evening, reading the latest message from Byron.

TVi is now the top-rating network in the world, since you appeared on camera. (It’s official.)

She texted back.

Please name your sources.

Her phone pinged immediately.

Byron Lloyd, your number one fan.

It was totally corny, but it made her laugh. Lucy was having so much fun with him that she could hardly remember why she’d got angry over the shirt. The sailing shirt and the random key seemed to belong to a different life altogether.

So Byron had a wacky boss who liked to sail and keep everything he did top secret. The mining industry was probably full of people like that! Byron, on the other hand, was different from anyone else she’d ever met. She wondered if it was time to just let go of the mystery key and give things with Byron a chance to work.

The sun was barely up as Lucy raced out of her hotel room on the final day of the summit. She pulled out her phone, going through the news sites, checking what had happened overnight in the rest of the world. As she waited for the lift, a text popped up from Byron.

Good morning! The sun has finally come out but Hong Kong is still grey without you. Good luck today. Byron xxx What a way to start the day,
Lucy thought. She could really get used to Byron’s compliments.

Thank you. If you keep sending me fan texts my head is going to get too big for the camera! But I’m wearing something bright today, just for you.

She sent him a selfie, showing off her pink-and-black top. A reply came straight back.

Is it legal to look that hot while covering an international summit?

She suddenly felt worried.

Do you think I should change?

The reply came immediately.

Not a single thing!

Lucy tapped speedily at her screen.

Oh, now you’ve done it. My head is too big to fit into the lift.

Byron was definitely on a charm offensive. And it was working!

Things were flirty between them all day. While Lucy waited outside a meeting room for summit delegates to emerge, she and Byron spammed each other like a pair of schoolkids.

Byron texted her.

Can’t stop thinking about you.

Lucy replied.

Thinking of u 2
☺
Getting bored here.

Byron:

I should come to Singapore to entertain you.

Lucy:

How r u going to entertain me?

Byron:

I have a few ideas.

Lucy felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She had ideas of her own, too. In fact, all she could think about right now was kissing Byron.

‘
Lucy
.’ The cameraman nudged her. Lucy’s mind snapped back into news mode. Around her reporters, snappers and camera crews positioned themselves as the doors to the meeting room opened and out filed the summit delegates. She’d nearly been caught out, daydreaming over Byron – but it was certainly a pleasant way to pass the time!

In between flirty texts, Byron had been sending Lucy updates on the match-fixing story. One came right before a big news briefing. It was just in time for Lucy to ask a killer question at the briefing. Everyone ended up using the minister’s answer on their news bulletins. It was unbelievably dedicated and completely sweet of him to be following the breaking news that closely. She was lucky to have a friend like Byron!

Lucy flopped into bed that night and grabbed her phone off the bedside table. A message had arrived from Byron while she was in the shower. She closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the anticipation of what the text might say. An ache crept through her body as she thought about him. Fatigue was gnawing away at her after a massive three days, but more than that there was a longing to see Byron. There might be things that she didn’t know about him, but he more than made up for that by everything else he did. Lucy opened her eyes and checked the latest message.

I wish I could be there to kiss you good night. Thinking of you. Byron.

Lucy felt every molecule of tension in her body dissolve one by one as she read the words. Lucy closed her eyes and imagined a knock on the hotel door. She would open it to find Byron standing in the corridor, with that lopsided smile on his face and a bottle of champagne in his hand. She would let him in without saying a word. There would be no questions about keys or shirts or Miss Chan. No questions at all. They would just kiss – all night. She replied.

Thinking of you too
.

Lucy sent the text before she had time to change her mind, then she flopped back into bed and fell asleep, too exhausted to dream of anything.