The Cinderella Reflex (21 page)

She saw Jack exchange glances with Paulina.

Paulina stepped into the corridor. “The agony-aunt slot is on hold at the moment, as are any changes until the relaunch of Atlantic 1FM.” She turned and gave Tess a malicious smile. “Sorry. You’re too late.”

Tess blinked. Was that it? After all the role-playing and scripting and visualising a positive outcome, she had been turned down flat. In less than three minutes? She cast around wildly for something to say. She had to think of a way to retrieve the situation. If Chris was in a war zone and his plan to get a top interview ran into a roadblock and he had travelled thousands of miles through enemy fire to get it – well, he wouldn’t just walk away, would he? He would do
something.

Just like Tess’s Cinema Self would. But what? What would Cinema Tess do?

She stepped out of the lift for starters, racking her brain as to what this new heroic version of herself, who Chris said lay just under the surface of her normal personality, might do next. But nothing came. She felt as if her head were full of cotton wool. Her mouth felt parched. She had no Plan B. Why hadn’t Chris given her a Plan B?

Jack was in the corridor now. He would disappear soon, into his meeting with the snooty Paulina and she couldn’t think of anything to make him stay. He looked at her speculatively.

“Why don’t you put in for
It’s My Show
?” He pulled a sheet of paper out of his briefcase. “This is the press release. We think it’s really going to pique the interest of the public.”

“Jack! We’re already late for our meeting,” Paulina said.

At the same time Tess’s phone started to ring. She pulled it out of her bag. “Just give me one more minute, can you, Jack?”

“Here, you’ve dropped something,” he replied.

“Yes, yes, the press release. I know.” Tess pressed the reject button on her phone to silence it and turned back to take the sheet of paper.

Jack was hunkered down, picking something off the floor. Something white, crumpled and very, very familiar. The elevator speech! She must have dropped it when she’d pulled the phone out of her bag.
Don’t let him read it, don’t let him read it, don’t let him read it
, Tess begged the Universe.

But Jack had already spotted the heading on the top of the page.

“It’s an elevator speech!” He stood up, looking at Tess admiringly. “I’ve heard about them. Hey! Are you trying to pitch your book for a film?” He looked up and down the corridor as if he were expecting a Hollywood mogul to miraculously appear. Paulina gave him a pitying look.

“No, I’m not.” Tess snatched the paper before he could read any more.

“Nice to meet you, Tess.” Paulina placed a firm hand on Jack’s shoulder and steered him towards a nearby conference room.

He turned back and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t forget. Put yourself in for the competition.”

Tess followed and watched Paulina propel him into the room and bang the door in her face. She slumped against the wall. She couldn’t think of one thing she could do now to retrieve the situation. Cinema Tess didn’t seem to be any more resourceful than Normal Tess. The sound of her phone ringing again jolted her out of her misery. Tess glanced at the caller ID. Chris. She pressed the reply button reluctantly.

“Hello?” she whispered.

“So how did it go, babe?”

“Badly. They didn’t buy it. Some woman called Paulina said the agony-aunt slot is on hold until after the relaunch. Jack said I should go in for
It’s My Show
instead.”

“Right. That would be a pretty big jump for you though. From, like, nothing to hosting your own show? The whole point of getting the agony-aunt gig back was so you could use it as a springboard.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t,” Tess reminded him.

“Right. Well, what about your old job back as Ollie’s producer? Did you pitch for that?”

“No.” Tess was surprised. “We didn’t discuss that.”

“So what was your Plan B then?”

“I was just thinking about that myself. How come you didn’t give me a Plan B?”

Chris sighed heavily. “I can’t do everything for you, Tess. You have to put some effort in yourself as well.”

There was a silence in which Tess wondered briefly if he had hung up on her.

Then he said sharply, “Look, maybe it’s not too late. Where’s Jack now?”

Tess looked at the conference-room door. “He’s in a meeting with that Paulina woman and I don’t know who else.”

“So wait around and give him another elevator speech on the way down,” Chris ordered. “Take a ‘you need me’ angle.”

“
No!
” Her response came out almost in a shout, surprising even herself. But she was done with elevator speeches for today, and possibly for the rest of her life. She retraced her footsteps back up the hotel corridor. She was going to find a decent coffee shop and buy herself a giant slice of chocolate cake.

“Okay, okay,” Chris soothed. “Why don’t we go for dinner tonight and we’ll work on a proper Plan B then?”

“Fine,” Tess said half-heartedly and hung up. She couldn’t think of anything she’d like less.

She pressed the button for the lift but the sound of a commotion distracted her. The conference-room door was suddenly wrenched open and Ollie Andrews came storming through it, his face like thunder.

Tess darted backwards into an alcove beside the lift. She didn’t want Ollie to see her. God forbid that he, or anyone from Atlantic 1FM, should ever,
ever
hear about her elevator speech! She waited, flattening her back against the wall until she heard Ollie step into the lift and the doors close behind him. Then she ventured cautiously out of the alcove.

Jack and Paulina were standing there, staring at the closed doors of the lift, looking nonplussed.

“Is he normally this volatile, I wonder?” Jack asked.

“Who knows?” Paulina sounded irritated. “What I do know is that the launch party is in less than a month and we don’t exactly have time for celebrity histrionics! All I suggested was that maybe he should consider getting an Extreme Makeover … I didn’t think he was going to
explode
in the way –” She broke off as she noticed Tess. “Oh! You’re still here.”

“Tess!” Jack smiled at her. “I’m afraid Ollie didn’t take what we had to say very well, at all. We obviously have a lot to learn about dealing with the artistic ego. Have you any tips on what makes him tick?”

Tess shrugged. It was clear Ollie had just treated them to one of his full-on temper tantrums. “The only predictable thing I found about Ollie was his unpredictability – he’s a law onto himself, I’m afraid.”

“I think we need to consider this really carefully.” Paulina spoke as if Tess wasn’t there. “It’s a sensitive issue, taking a show away from someone like Ollie. He has a listenership who won’t like it if they think we’re being unfair to him. Plus he may go to the papers making all sorts of claims about us. We can’t just dump people because we decide their face doesn’t fit any more.”

“Can’t we?” Jack seemed surprised.

“Not without giving them a valid reason.” Paulina massaged the bridge of her nose, deep in thought.

“Tess, how would you feel about coming back temporarily to produce Ollie again?” Jack asked. “To help us manage the transition?”

“And I can have the agony-aunt slot back?” Tess felt relief sweep through her. It was Mission Accomplished after all! Chris wouldn’t be so judgemental about her lack of a Plan B now!

“I’ve already told you,” Paulina snapped. “We can’t consider that until after the relaunch. If we bring it back now it will confuse the listeners. But,” she looked at Jack and shrugged, “if you want Tess to work behind the scenes, that’s your decision.”

Jack was looking at Tess eagerly. Tess hesitated. Chris had said this should be her Plan B. But it wasn’t Chris who was going to have to work with Ollie Andrews. An Ollie who would be more difficult than ever now that he was under such intense pressure.

“It would only be temporary,” Jack pleaded. “And I’ll make sure you’re very well rewarded financially. We,” he looked at Paulina ruefully, “have never had to deal with such an … er …
artistic
personality before. And I can’t stress how vital it is that we keep the station going as normal while we’re working on the new schedule. Look,” he glanced at his watch, “I have another appointment now. But how about we go for dinner later on and discuss it there?”

“Er …” Tess remembered promising to meet Chris for dinner. But the thought of more lectures from him wasn’t very tempting. And who knew? Away from Paulina’s prying eyes, she might be able to persuade Jack to give her another chance at the agony-aunt slot. Chris would understand. To his mind, dinner with Jack would be like an extended version of the elevator pitch. She could hear him now: ‘
This will be two whole hours to convince Jack McCabe of your all-round fabulousness.’

Besides, she was enjoying seeing Paulina looking so discomfited. Supercilious cow. She barely stopped herself from batting her eyelashes, as she’d seen Sara do so many times. Instead she put a big smile on her face and replied, “I’d love to go to dinner, Jack.”

Chapter Fourteen

Tess slipped off her shoes and threw herself onto the enormous black leather sofa in Chris’s living room. It was the archetypal bachelor pad: the room dominated by an enormous flat-screen television and an expensive sound system, stark white walls hung with disturbing abstract paintings. “An investment,” Chris had explained when he’d shown her around. Although he needn’t have bothered. Tess couldn’t imagine anyone buying them for pleasure.

She thought back to the night of the reunion. Ardent as Chris had been that night in her hotel room, he had left at three o’clock, citing an early work assignment the next day. But they’d met for lunch the next day, when he’d convinced her to push herself forward more with the help of his career-coaching techniques.

And although they had made love a few times more she had to admit there was a business-like quality to the relationship that disturbed her. Chris was always yakking on about the best way to get ahead, what Jack McCabe might be looking for and how she, Tess, could give it to him. Frankly, she was exhausted by it all.

She padded through to the bedroom, trying to decide between her boring business suit or the dress she’d bought for the reunion. She opted for the suit, pulling her hair back into a chignon, intent on presenting a professional front. She glanced at the clock. Still no sign of Chris. Tess tried his number but got his voicemail again. She scribbled a note, explaining that she was meeting Jack to talk about going back to Atlantic 1FM and apologising for changing their plans. She pinned it to the fridge with a magnet emblazoned with the words
You Can’t Control Everything.

Hmm, you could have fooled me, Tess thought. She opened the hall door and felt a deep sense of relief overcome her and the further she got from Chris’s apartment the better she felt. Funny how she had fantasised about Chris for all these years but now that he was back in her life it felt all wrong. She wondered whether, in the intervening years, they had both changed so much that they just didn’t fit together anymore? Or whether she had been wearing the proverbial rose-coloureds all those times she’d thought about him as the One Who Got Away? She didn’t know the answer, and she didn’t have time to figure it out now. She had her career to think of but, as she walked along the city streets, she realised her whole life didn’t depend on her going back to Atlantic 1FM.

The weather was balmy and the air was alive with the promise of summer. People were sprawled on benches along the canal and sitting outside cafés sipping beer and coffee, making the most of the lengthening evenings. It occurred to Tess that she could move to Dublin, rather than start her globetrotting again. It would mean she could still get a foot on the career ladder and she had already broken the ice with her old college friends at the reunion. She had met up with Katie Lawlor for lunch during the week and got the impression that, as a new divorcee, Katie would be more than happy to have someone to hang out with. But first she’d hear what Jack had to say.

The restaurant was tucked away on a corner of a busy street, on the top floor of a handsome Georgian redbrick. A queue of people snaked down the stairs and onto the pavement outside.

Tess eyed them curiously. Everyone was suited and booted, shirts and ties for the men and formal jacket and skirts on the women. Some of them were carrying folders and one man had a briefcase. She frowned and looked down at her navy business suit. She fitted right in here.

A dark-haired woman with a pretty, open face turned to face Tess. “Can you
believe
how many people have turned up for the interviews this evening? Did you think there’d be this much competition?” She made a dramatic, eye-rolling gesture at the people just in front of her, as they shuffled self-consciously from one foot to another.

Something cold unfurled in Tess’s stomach.

“Competition for what?”

“Duh – the
jobs
, of course.” The woman noticed Tess’s astonished expression and did the eye-rolling thing again. “I
know
. You wouldn’t think a call centre would get so much interest, would you?” She waved a hand towards the queue again. “God knows how long we’ll be here!”

Tess followed her gaze and saw that the people snaking down the stairs were actually queuing for a small recruitment agency’s office on the first floor of the building.

The dark-haired woman was looking at her with sympathy. “So what did you do before the recession? Solicitor? No – don’t tell me. You were in banking?”

“Er … I’m not here for the job. I’m going to dinner, actually.” Tess apologetically gestured towards the top floor, from where the unmistakeable aroma of good Italian food was floating down to them.

“Lucky you!” The woman looked wistfully at Tess. “I used to eat in restaurants like that all the time. That was until my business went bust, of course. I owned my own florist shop – living the dream, or so I thought. But then one of the big multinationals in the town I was living in folded and trade just went through the floor. My shop’s been closed almost a year now, I’m up to my eyes in debt and I’ve given up on being my own boss. If I don’t get this, I’m going to be evicted!” She gave a small shudder.