The Cinderella Reflex (28 page)

“Are you changing your image?” she asked casually.

Andrea closed her mirror compact with a snap. “Not especially. Are you?”

“Well, yes! Trying to anyway.” Tess hesitated. “I have been through two makeovers already, if you count my efforts to do myself over for the reunion. But Paulina has just suggested now that I should see a stylist – a Mai Mooney?”

“I wouldn’t bother with what Paulina says. Not when you have the ear of Jack McCabe.”

“I don’t have his ear!” Tess protested.

“Come on! Going out to dinner with him must have been pretty productive!”

“Not really.” Tess wasn’t sure she liked the tone in Andrea’s voice.

“Why not? Didn’t he buy your elevator speech?”

“What is
wrong
with you, Andrea? There was a time when you would have found the elevator speech
hilarious
.”

“Hah, bloody hah!” Andrea turned to the mirror over the sink and began working on her hair, shaking her head to settle it back into shape.

“Oh, get down off the cross, Andrea!” Tess suddenly snapped. “You’re doing stuff to win the contest! Seeing Mai Mooney, for instance. Twice, according to Paulina.”

Andrea looked at her coolly. “I’m ambitious. It’s not against the law. But I’ve always been upfront about it. You, on the other hand, were so good at playing Little Miss Scatty, promising me how you’d help
me
to win, while all the time you were planning your own secret strategy to bag it for yourself.”

“I said I’d help you because I’d been sacked!” Tess exclaimed. “I didn’t think I would be coming back to work here. But … look, it’s tough out there, Andrea. It’s not as if jobs are growing on trees. And I’ve already explained, my so-called elevator speech was just an attempt to get another shot at the agony-aunt gig, like you’ve been advising me to do from day one. Okay, so my method was a bit unorthodox – I got carried away with Chris Conroy’s bizarre methods of career coaching.” She shook her head in disbelief at what Chris had talked her into. “Don’t ask me how.”

“So how didthe dinner date come about?” Andrea persisted. She was looking at Tess as if she didn’t know whether she should believe her or not.

“Jack turned me down for the agony-aunt slot. Or should I say Paulina turned me down.”

“Paulina was there?” Andrea’s eyes widened.

“In the lift, yes. But not at dinner. Jack wanted me to come back to produce Ollie until the relaunch. I didn’t want to at first. Producing Ollie feels like going around in circles. Unpleasant circles. Anyhow, Jack asked me to dinner to talk about it.” She shrugged. “What can I say? He’s very persuasive.”

Andrea still looked suspicious. “Paul said you and Jack looked very cosy together. It didn’t look very business-like to him.”

“Well, Paul’s dinner didn’t look very business-like either, Andrea!” Tess pointed out. “But clearly it was.
I
jumped to all the wrong conclusions – thinking that just because Paul was having dinner with a woman, he must be having an affair or something. That’s why I’ve been avoiding you, Andrea. Because I didn’t know how to handle it. But Paul wasn’t doing anything wrong at all! So just accept that it’s possible that
you
could be doing the same thing right now. Jumping to the wrong conclusion about myself and Jack.”

Tess stopped, alarm bells ringing far too late.

“What woman?” The blood had drained out of Andrea’s face, leaving it waxy white.

“The woman he was with at the dinner … I thought you said he told you …”

Andreas’s nostrils flared slightly. “He told me he was having dinner with a former colleague of his called Terry – said he might have a tip-off about a new job. Well, I presumed it was a he – and Paul didn’t say anything to make me think any differently.”

“Well, what does it matter if Terry was a man or a woman?” Tess’s voice was too bright. “It was a business colleague. That’s all that matters, right?”

“Right,” Andrea said grimly. She dropped the compact mirror and lipstick into her handbag and walked away without a backward glance.

Damn
, Tess thought, putting her face in her hands.
Damn, damn, damn
.

Chapter Nineteen

Finally, the day of the relaunch party rolled around. Tess took a deep breath, turned sideways and sucked in her stomach. She was spray-tanned and squeezed into a black dress that pushed up her cleavage and gave her lots of
va-va-voom
. Her hair was a credit to Mr Cheung and her kohl-rimmed eyes and Purple Passionlipstick made her look like a vamp. But inside she felt like a wreck.

Nerves were now so frayed at work that no matter what happened tonight, Tess felt things could only get better once the wretched contest was over. Ollie was still treating her like an outcast. Helene had taken to wandering around the office like a ghost, looking so preoccupied and downright lost that Tess almost found herself wishing for the old, snappy, dynamic Helene back. And as for Andrea – Tess’s stomach lurched when she remembered the look on her friend’s face when she’d revealed that Paul’s work colleague was a woman. They had been avoiding each other since and Tess had never felt so miserable in her life.

She sat down to wait for her taxi, pleating the sofa cushion-covers absentmindedly between her fingers. She was meeting Chris later, at the party, and she felt as confused as ever about him. She still hadn’t collected her clothes from his apartment. She had told him she was too busy putting the final touches to her pitch for
It’s My Show
and Chris had empathised only too well. It was partly true anyway, she reflected. Things had been manic for everyone as they tried to perfect their entries for the contest. A last-minute stipulation obliged each entrant to submit a six-minute recording, illustrating why they felt they had the elusive X-factor.

Tess had been glad to have something to focus on, because it meant she had neither the time nor the energy to think about Chris, Andrea or Jack. Tonight, though, she was going to have to face all her demons together. The sound of the taxi honked outside and Tess stood up reluctantly. She did a last quick check in the mirror, forcing her shoulders down from around her ears. Showtime, she thought automatically. Then she clattered down the stairs to the waiting taxi.

Traffic was unusually heavy and they inched their way towards the hotel. Tess had eaten very little all day but, by all accounts, tonight was going to be a lavish affair, so there’d be plenty of food at the party. Sara had said there would be a red carpet at the hotel entrance and that lots of national media were expected, hoping to report on Atlantic 1FM’s national licence award.

As the taxi slid to a halt, Tess saw that Sara was right as usual. There was the red carpet laid up the steps to the hotel door. There were the burly bouncers dressed in black and white, standing guard against gate-crashers and a posse of photographers lined up on either side of the two ropes, which formed a pathway for guests. A knot of local people stood by curiously. They were probably wondering whether any real celebs would show up, Tess thought, as she passed by with her head down. She showed her invitation to one of the bouncers, feeling like an idiot as he scrutinised it, and then her, closely, before finally waving her in.

Paulina Fox, looking immaculate in a white silk, sari-style dress, was handing out press packs to the arriving media in the lobby. Helene stood beside her, scanning the crowds anxiously. Tess ducked out of their sight and made her way to the function room where tall, lanky models looking beautiful and bored posed for the press, while a coterie of media and business types leafed idly through Paulina’s handouts. She spotted Sara perched on a high stool by the bar, nursing a very colourful cocktail. Tess weaved her way across to her.

“Who
are
all these people?” she asked, looking back at the crowded room.

“VIPs,” Sara murmured, sucking her drink through a straw and watching the action from under long, spidery false eyelashes.

Tess looked admiringly at the skinny strip of fuchsia pink chiffon that was masquerading as a dress on Sara’s skinny frame. “You look fantastic!” She gave her a nudge.

“Thanks!” Sara grinned and looked down at her outfit. “It’s my slut dress – in case there’s any talent here. Or Jack McCabe is looking.”

Tess nodded at the bartender. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

“Hey up!” Sara nodded towards the door. “Look who’s arrived.”

Tess looked up to see Richard Armstrong enter the room, one arm draped around a dark-haired, plump woman who, even from this distance, looked uncomfortable.

“She must be his wife,” Sara said thoughtfully.

Louisa. Jack’s sister.
Tess craned her neck, to see her better. She felt a stab of sympathy for her. If Rosa was right, and Helene was pregnant, it was going to be a nightmare for everyone involved. But Tess had made enough mistakes herself to know that people often found themselves in situations they had never envisaged. The truth was, she wouldn’t like to be in Helene’s position tonight.

The barman returned with her cocktail and Tess clinked her glass against Sara’s.

“Good luck for tonight. When are they announcing the result anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” Sara said through her straw. “Are you nervous?”

“Not at all. I’m not going to get the gig anyway.” Tess sipped the pink sugary cocktail, the strong alcoholic kick on an empty stomach making her feel slightly giddy.

“None of us are going to get this gig,” Sara said gloomily. “Daddy says it’s definite now that the winner is an outsider. And after all that work we did with those bloody recordings! Honestly, we are
so
not appreciated. I’m going to look for another career after tonight.”

“Mmmm … well, good luck with that,” Tess said through her straw, thinking of her own recent brush with unemployment.

The two women scanned the crowds to see if they could read any small gesture of triumph in the body language of any of the guests.

“Hey – there’s Ollie!” Sara poked Tess in the ribs and nodded towards the other end of the bar.

Tess followed her gaze to see Ollie balefully surveying the pint of lager and shot of whiskey lined up in front of him. Ollie drinking whiskey chasers at this hour of the evening didn’t bode well for later on, especially if, as Sara had predicted, the gig was going to an outsider. That particular rumour had been circulating around Atlantic for the last couple of days, ratcheting the tension levels in the office to near hysteria, and Ollie was clearly brooding about it now.

“Excuse me, ladies, can I take your picture?” Tess turned to see a photographer with his camera trained on them. He was a young guy with dirty-fair hair and slightly protruding eyes. He was wearing jeans, runners and a long trench coat.

“Who’s it for?” Tess asked.

“I’m a freelance so I’m not sure yet. But photos of beautiful women always sell!”

Tess smiled at his cheek and moved closer to Sara so he could get his shot. He spent the next few minutes barking orders at them, directing them to first look cheerful, then sultry, and finally, moody.

“Thanks, ladies!” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a grubby-looking business card.

Sara took it and giggled. “Gai Gordan Ryder? Seriously?” She raised incredulous eyebrows at him.

“What? That’s my real name,” he said, surveying the room for more photo opportunities.

“Yeah, right!” Sara laughed.

“Food!” Tess spotted several large silver trays of canapés being carried around by waitresses dressed in short black skirts, opaque black tights and white frilly blouses.

Sara nodded towards the entrance. “See Andrea’s just arrived with the hubby.”

Even from a distance, Tess could see the stiff set to Andrea’s shoulders and the grim expression on her face. When Paul quickened his step to close the gap between them, she shrugged him away angrily. Tess winced. Clearly they were still having trouble.

“I’ll go and see if they want to join us – you go and get some food.” Tess placed her drink on the bar and started across the floor before she could change her mind. If she didn’t face Andrea now, she would spend the rest of the night fretting about it.

Andrea had her back to her, trying to attract the barman’s attention.

“Hi!” Tess smiled at Paul who responded by giving her a warning shake of his head:
Don’t make matters worse.
But Tess was already tapping her friend on the shoulder.

Andrea stared at Tess. “Did you want something?”

Tess was horrified to feel tears welling up. “I was just going to ask if you and Paul wanted to join myself and Sara.”

“We’ll stay on own for the time being. Thanks.”

“Oh! Okay then.” Tess turned away abruptly, trying to hide her discomfort, and bumped into someone standing directly behind her. “Sorry! Sorry,” she muttered automatically, and looked into the face of Jack McCabe.

“Tess!” He looked at her curiously. “Are you okay?”

He was wearing black tie, looking ridiculously handsome.

“I’m fine.” Tess blinked away the tears and pasted on a smile. She stared into the crowd to distract herself from both the effect he was having on her and the upset she felt over Andrea’s reaction. “Amazing party. It must have taken some organising?” she said brightly.

Jack shrugged. “It’s just work. But you’re right. It did take some work – all Paulina’s of course.”

Of course, Tess thought.

He followed her gaze into the crowd. “I can’t help wondering if the woman Richard is having an affair with would have the nerve to show up here.” He scanned the crowd hungrily, as if he could figure out who it was just by staring into it for long enough.

“Right.” Tess felt a wave of discomfort. She didn’t want Jack asking her more questions about Richard’s love life.

She was relieved when Paulina pitched up, enveloped in a cloud of her Power Woman perfume. Even in a room full of beautiful people, Paulina still managed to look standout stunning. She leaned in and kissed Jack on both cheeks.

“Everything is going marvellously, isn’t it?” she said softly, her voice full of muted excitement.