The Making of Mia (31 page)

Mia suddenly felt ashamed of herself; after all, what had Madeline ever done to her? She’d given Jo Hill her first break as
Joshua’s PA, and even when she’d sent Madeline the knickers picked out for Marina Stone she’d never been mean to her – she’d
just chosen to believe her husband over her. And, Mia thought glumly, what wife wouldn’t? Mia
wondered what Madeline’s reaction would be to the article detailing her breakdown, and worried that she’d helped Joshua push
her over the edge. As the guilt firmly began to set in, Mia looked up from her desk, spotting some of the editorial team whispering
to each other in shock while holding the newspaper. A couple of the designers were talking to Helena, wondering if Joshua
really would sack Madeline, and they concluded that he most probably would have to, that there was no way he could condone
Madeline’s talking to the press and saying such explosive stuff.

By the end of the day Mia was sick of everyone talking about the situation, and her head pounded, despite the Nurofen she’d
swallowed. Debbie had tartly told her that both Joshua and Madeline would be working from home that day, and Mia had fended
off all types of intrusive questions about what was going to happen from her team, from other magazines within the group,
and from the press. Although she hated Debbie with a passion, she felt a tiny twinge of sympathy that the girl had had to
answer the phone all day to the media. If she had been Joshua’s PA she’d have probably burst into tears, but Debbie had remained
calm, telling every journalist that phoned up that Garnet Publishing had ‘no comment’, and that a statement would be released
at some point during the week. Mia noted that Debbie enjoyed feeling important, and she wondered if she knew more than she
was letting on.

Of course, it was entirely possible that Joshua would issue a press release explaining that Madeline had been under a lot
of stress and that she was sorry for the email she had sent, before allowing the situation to die down and putting Madeline
back in her office as normal. Mia wondered if Joshua’s silence on the situation was indicative of that, and as minutes ticked
away the tension headache that had wound itself around her head pulled tighter. An hour before she was
due to go home Mia picked up her bag and caught the Tube back to Hampstead, where she allowed herself to bite her nails and
feel as insecure as she had done when she had been overweight and called Jo Hill. Even a bar of chocolate did nothing to ease
the pressure.

That evening Mia had just sunk on to her sofa to watch
EastEnders
when Joshua phoned her mobile. As she had predicted he sounded fucked off and tired, and Mia reminded herself to sound sympathetic
and not anxious to know what had been happening. She knew how much Joshua hated the appearance of desperation in anybody,
and she was determined to play it cool.

‘It’s been a hell of a day, but I’ve managed to speak to the board and we now have closure. Madeline has “resigned”, but before
we issue a statement to the press, my father and I would like you to confirm that you’ll be editor of
Gloss
. Before you say yes we need you to agree with two conditions.’

Mia stared at her phone incredulously – she was so excited that she wasn’t sure if she could breathe. This was the most amazing
phone call of her life; she could feel her tension easing away and her head feeling light. Just before Mia floated away –
or fainted – Joshua continued.

‘Number one, we need to get some decent press about Garnet Publishing into the media asap,’ Joshua began, and as he spoke
Mia realised she’d never heard him sound so efficient before. She wondered if Harold Garnet was in the room with him, and
where Madeline Turner was. Were they in Joshua’s living-room while Madeline was in the bedroom? Or had Joshua decamped to
a hotel, desperate to leave the marital home? ‘As soon as you sign on the dotted line we’re going to want to do some intensive
PR with you. You’re going to be the youngest women’s glossy magazine editor in history, but you’re also the little sister
of a major Hollywood star, so the company is going to want to capitalise on that. Although
many people already know who you are, by becoming editor of
Gloss
you are going to be A-list. Everyone will know your name, and everyone will be watching your every move.’

Mia remembered how she had seen Joshua and Madeline entering Chantez a few years earlier, and how awe-inspiring they had been.
Mia was younger, prettier and skinnier than Madeline Turner had ever been, and she instantly realised that by committing herself
to a career of editing
Gloss
she was agreeing to become a serious player, one who was talked about as much as her magazine was. It was the stuff dreams
were made of.

‘And what’s the second condition?’ Mia asked neutrally, not wanting to give her excitement away.

‘Number two, you have dinner at my house tomorrow night so we can discuss this, and our relationship, in more detail.’

Mia remained silent for a moment as she thought about what Joshua was implying. Mia knew that he had only married so that
he could demonstrate to his father that he had given up his playboy ways, and that marrying Madeline was proof enough to Harold
Garnet that his son was ready to control Garnet Publishing. Now that his wife had disgraced the company so dreadfully, Mia
realised that there could be an opening for Madeline’s other position within the Garnet empire. The thought of it excited
and disgusted her all at once, but Mia now realised just how powerful she could become if she did end up being Joshua Garnet’s
second wife. If Madeline hadn’t been able to get pregnant, Mia was sure that the family would see her as surplus to requirements,
leaving Mia shining so brightly as Garnet Publishing’s new golden girl that nobody would see Madeline lurking in the shadows.

‘Let me think about what you have just said, and I’ll let you know my thoughts about this at dinner tomorrow night,’ Mia
said, after some consideration. She had briefly toyed with the idea of announcing to Joshua that he had just offered Joanne
Hill a job as editor of his most popular magazine, but Mia knew that if she bided her time, her declaration would be even
more spectacular.

Joshua agreed. ‘A car will pick you up from your house at eight tomorrow night,’ he said, and Mia felt a shiver of excitement
run down her spine as she remembered that one of the perks of being an editor at Garnet Publishing meant you were automatically
assigned a gleaming dark red Mercedes complete with driver. ‘Dress up, Miss Blackwood,’ Joshua said softly, and without saying
another word he hung up, leaving Mia speechless that she had just been offered the job of controlling
Gloss
. It took a moment, but she suddenly realised that she was so close to having her revenge on Garnet that she could almost
smell it. The thought of finally treating Joshua Garnet as he had treated her was exhilarating, and all night she tossed and
turned in bed, guiltily imagining herself encased in Madeline Turner’s office, but also wondering what she should wear to
dinner the following night.

Mia was standing by her window when she noticed the dark red Garnet Mercedes discreetly pull up outside her house. She skipped
over to her full-length mirror and checked her reflection one final time. She looked like Cinderella, she thought, as she
remembered how she had loved the old Disney film as a child. A man named Pedro at Vidal Sassoon had spun her blonde hair into
an intricate bun earlier in the afternoon, and as Mia twisted in front of the mirror she noticed that the gems on the tiny
combs that held her hair in place sparkled in the light. Mia’s dress was a cloud of peacock blue, with hand-sewn crystals
twinkling on a bodice that pushed her full breasts higher and made her already small waist look even tinier. At her hips a
full skirt flared into a waterfall of silk that cascaded down to her delicate silver heels, and as Mia walked over to her
bed to pick up her silver Prada handbag the skirt moved with her, making Mia look as though she were gliding across her bedroom
carpet. She had never looked lovelier, and she couldn’t wait to present herself to Joshua. He would want to ravish her, she
thought, as she sprayed herself lightly with Ralph Lauren Romance. And the best bit was that she’d never, ever sleep with
him. She only wanted to tempt him, to make him crazy about her.

The car left Hampstead, eventually pulling up outside a tall Georgian house in Connaught Square, and Mia tried not to let
her eyes widen in disbelief. Was this really where Joshua and Madeline lived? It was so grown up, so expensive,
so exclusive. Her surprise was answered soon enough, as Joshua pulled open the heavy black door and grinned at her from inside
his house, which, despite looking cold and imposing on the outside, appeared to be warm and inviting on the inside. Joshua
was wearing a navy Turnbull & Asser suit and a white shirt from Haines & Bonner, and Mia could see a shadow of stubble on
his chin. Despite the stress of the Madeline situation he still managed to look attractive.

‘Glad you made it,’ Joshua said, drinking in Mia’s appearance as she walked up the path to his house. The press would love
her, he thought, as his gaze swept over her breasts, her waist and her hips. Just looking at her turned him on, and it made
him grin. Working even closer with Mia when she was formally editor of
Gloss
would be a lot of fun.

‘I was beginning to think old John here had got lost,’ Joshua remarked as he nodded curtly at the driver, and he shut the
front door firmly on Mia’s chauffeur, refusing to tip a Garnet driver when – in his opinion – they were paid well enough.
Mia stood in Joshua’s hallway, but before she had the chance to take in her surroundings he led her into one of his sitting-rooms.
Mia looked around nervously, hoping there’d be no personal items of Madeline’s lying around. She didn’t think she’d be able
to cope with seeing a more human and intimate side to the woman she’d pushed over the edge.

‘Have a seat,’ Joshua gestured, as Mia took in the room. Cream rugs were thrown across the oak floor, and four large chocolate-brown
leather sofas formed a square formation around a huge glass coffee table. A plasma television screen dominated one of the
white-painted walls, and gold-framed mirrors hung from the others. Joshua clearly liked looking at himself, and thankfully
there were no photos or traces of Madeline’s personality dotted around – it was as though she’d been erased. Mia perched gingerly
on one of the sofas and she looked up at Joshua, who was staring at her with
a mixture of pride and lust so intense that she could feel herself involuntarily squirming under his gaze. To distract herself
Mia concentrated on the leather beneath her hands. It was soft and buttery, and without warning she remembered the feeling
of William’s skin. She couldn’t shake the memory of him, no matter how much she wanted to.

‘I adore your house,’ Mia said, as she tried to stop staring at what looked like an original Vettriano hanging on a wall.
‘It’s beautiful.’

‘It’s not too bad,’ Joshua said, brushing the compliment aside. ‘I’m sure the price has devalued since that politician and
his awful wife bought the one down the road, but there wasn’t much I could do to stop him from getting it. There’s an actor
who lives here too, terrible riff-raff. To be honest, I’m thinking about moving out, getting a place in Mayfair.’

Mia gulped. Although she’d always read about the Garnets’ enviable wealth she’d never imagined stepping into Joshua’s life
and experiencing it for herself. A memory of an article about Joshua running baths of Veuve Clicquot Grande Dame for former
kiss-and-tell lovers flashed through her mind. She’d always thought that the Garnets’ wealth was more urban myth than fact,
but sitting here, in one of Joshua’s opulent sitting-rooms, Mia could tell Joshua Garnet had never needed to work in the equivalent
of The Royal Oak. It intimidated her, and she had to remind herself that she was good enough to be Joshua’s companion for
the evening. Mia had earned her position by working up the ladder and being cunning. It was more than Joshua Garnet had ever
had to do.

‘Drink?’ Joshua asked, as he leant against his original Georgian mantelpiece. ‘Have you ever had a Louis XIII cocktail?’ Mia
shook her head, and Joshua looked pleased. ‘Women love them. Marina Stone, the model, is a dear friend of mine, and she once
had one at the Piano Bar at the
Sheraton Park Hotel. I managed to persuade the head man there to make two for us to celebrate your editorship. They were delivered
ten minutes ago. Let me get my girl to bring them in.’

Joshua pressed a subtle panel in the wall and murmured something quietly into it. Within a minute a girl in a French maid’s
uniform placed a silver tray with two cocktails on the coffee table, and before Mia could thank her she slipped back out of
the room. Mia wanted to laugh. Of course Joshua would have servants, and of course they would be dressed in French maids’
uniforms that, if made of latex, wouldn’t have looked out of place in a sex shop in Soho. Joshua raised his eyebrows at Mia,
as if he could tell what was on her mind, and passed her the drink.

‘I don’t fuck her, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ Joshua said, startling Mia with his frankness. He changed the subject.
‘Now, before you taste this, let me tell you exactly how it is made,’ he said. ‘Knowing how expensive it is will make it taste
even better. A shot of Rémy Martin Louis XIII – the finest cognac in the world, I must add – is poured into this crystal martini
glass. A sugar cube is then added, along with two drops of angostura bitters, and then it is finished off with Charles Heidsieck
champagne.’ Joshua stared at the liquid in the crystal glass and then looked at Mia. ‘But look closer. Can you see any other
ingredient?’

Mia peered at her cocktail, and, in shock, she realised there was a diamond nestling at the bottom of the glass. It had to
be a whole carat. Her mouth dropped open and Joshua laughed.

‘That’s four thousand pounds’ worth of cocktail in your hands, Mia. It’s a special cocktail for a special girl, and I couldn’t
think of anything finer to toast your promotion with.’ He raised his glass and Mia copied him, still grinning in disbelief
at the cost of the drink in her hands. ‘Congratulations, Mia Blackwood, and welcome to your editorship of
Gloss
.’