“You have my sympathies there. I’m certainly pleased I don’t have to manage her. I probably won’t have to manage anybody soon.”
She stops brushing her hair and turns to face me. The bridge of her freckled nose crinkles into a frown. “What do you mean? You’re not thinking of resigning again, are you?”
“No, I’m thinking I’m probably going to get fired.”
“Don’t be so sure. Stella is a dragon, but she’ll get to the truth.”
“We already know the truth – I sent Media the wrong file. Even if Georgie sent the wrong file to me, I should have checked it. Doubtful Stella will find a way to keep both me and Georgie.” Freja sighs sadly, and I realise how much she must be worried about her best friend, as well as me. “I’m not going to let Georgie take the hit for my mistake. You needn’t worry.”
She looks in the mirror and applies a fresh coat of shiny cappuccino-coloured lipstick. Then she rubs her lips together and smiles at her reflection. “I used to be an actress, but now I film other people . . . and I lead a team. It’s always tougher for creative people to adapt to management responsibilities – our brains are wired differently – but you’ll get there.”
Freja turns back to the mirror and decides she needs more mascara. I don’t know how she can be bothered, unless she’s prolonging her visit to the ladies room for a reason. I watch her apply a fresh layer to her already perfect lashes and decide that she is. “Why are you here, Freja?”
She sighs and plonks her mascara tube down on the dressing table. “Look, normally I wouldn’t repeat things like this, but . . .” She sighs again, her caramel eyes intent and supportive.
My stomach starts to churn in that unsteady, anxious way it does when bad news is on the horizon. The fact that my stomach is also starving doesn’t help. “Just tell me.”
She turns to face me and leans forward. Her long, shiny orange hair falls over her shoulder. “When you left Lucas’s party last night, I was a little worse for wear. Ethan was helping me get downstairs for a taxi, which was kind, but Jadine was there too. I don’t think she thought I was compos mentis, but I heard everything she said.” Her face bends for a moment, her eyes registering my fear. “She told Ethan you couldn’t be the snow queen everybody calls you if you were about to ‘screw a stranger’.”
I can’t speak for fear of dropping nothing but f-bombs.
“Ethan gave her a mouthful,” Freja continues. “I was practically comatose, but he leapt to your defence. I would have too if I had my wits about me . . . Jesus Christ, what a night. It’s taken all day to clear my head. Anyway, she said she thought you were in love with Ethan and that was the reason why you’d been, uhm, a bitch to her from day one.”
I take to my feet, and I’ve no idea why but I start walking towards the door. A hot, burning rage surges in my veins. “I’m going to kill her,” I say as tears fill my eyes. “I’ve been really trying to be nice to her.”
“Have you?” Her eyes pop. “Whatever you do, don’t go out there and confront her.”
“I can’t let it go. I want to know why she’s doing this.”
“You know why she’s doing it.” She stands and places her hands on my arms. “Take a moment to calm down. Going out there angry will be playing straight into her hands. This is who she is.”
“You don’t understand. If he even suspects anything happened with Cosmo . . . Ethan doesn’t know about the mugging, I kept it from him . . . Jesus, if he finds out about Cosmo’s Fifty Shades moment he’ll beat the shit out of him. He’s very protective.”
Freja studies me for a moment. She places her hand on my arm and I wish she wouldn’t. Physical comfort when I’m angry makes me squirm. “What do you mean his ‘Fifty Shades’ moment?”
“He came on to me and wanted to have . . . alternative bedroom fun.”
She laughs. “You’re kidding? Him?”
“It wasn’t funny. It was horrible. I had to tell him four times to get off me—”
“What!” She steps back in horror. “Start talking now.”
“Please, don’t say anything. He was really creepy, but he apologised. We were both drunk. I just want to forget about it.”
“Oh my god, this is not fucking okay, Violet! I can’t believe this . . . I always thought there was something odd about that man.” Her freckles converge as she twists her face into a frown. “It seems Max is a very good friend after all.”
“He is, but he’s also as unpredictable as the weather.”
Freja and I are just about to return to the others when she realises she left her mascara on the dressing table. Then the car crash that my life has become takes yet another fatal turn. We turn back just in time to see Ruby Sloan appear from inside a toilet stall.
All three of us freeze with shock.
“I . . . I . . . thought you’d left,” she says awkwardly, tucking her sky-blue shirt into the waistband of her grey pencil skirt.
“How much did you hear?” asks Freja.
Ruby’s dark eyes turn to the ground. “I’m sorry, I tried not to listen.”
My heart plummets to my feet. What did we say? Does she know about me and Ethan? No, I don’t think so . . . but she must have picked up on how I feel about him. “Please don’t say anything, Ruby.”
Ruby nods. “I won’t. I’m sorry, truly I am.”
Freja takes my elbow and guides me out of the bathroom. “Don’t worry, she won’t say anything.”
I think we all take that for the warning it clearly is.
23
I COULD HAVE HANDLED EVERYBODY falling silent when I return from the loos if I knew I still had Ethan. My circle was always small – just him and Max – but that’s all I ever needed. I felt like we could conquer the world when we were together, whether we were winning awards, knocking out fabulous campaigns or just working into the night with a few beers and takeout pizza. We were unbeatable, we were special and we were strong. But now? Every time I think about what has happened to us I have to battle to stop myself from crying. But it’s my fault. I walked away from him and shut myself off.
I sit back down at the table, avoiding eye contact with everybody. I look at my watch – it’s still only eight fifteen. I tell myself I’ll go home in five minutes, then I take out my mobile and see I’ve got a rather lengthy message from Daniel Noble. It’s about Jelly Whizz, the sweet and toy company we’re about to shoot a TV ad for.
Accounts just got a film location licence bill through for 5k for Jelly Whizz. How has this happened? I haven’t signed off any creative yet. It looks like we’ve hired a Japanese botanical garden in Holland Park. How the hell is that relevant to a traditional British confectionery brand? Please tell me this is a mistake.
Jadine was working on this campaign with Will and Pinkie. How have they managed such a spectacular cock-up? I march over to Jadine, who is talking with Georgie and Ruby, bringing my phone plus angry message with me.
“Jadine, please tell me you haven’t given the green light for a Japanese botanical garden shoot for Jelly Whizz.’
“I haven’t,” she says quickly. “Of course I haven’t.”
“Then why is Daniel Noble sending me angry text messages because a bill for five grand was sent through to him?”
Jadine swallows so hard I can hear her throat rattle, then she flicks her golden mermaid waves over her shoulders and beams as if this was nothing, which only serves to make me even more furious. “It must be a mistake. One of Will’s early ideas was to add a Japanese flavour to the ad, but then we dropped it.”
“Do we have to talk about this now?” asks Ethan. He takes a drink of something that looks stiff and necessary.
“Yes, we do have to talk about it now.” My voice is raised probably a little too high – my overreaction due to what Freja has just told me about Jadine. It’s as if I’m a bystander listening to the words fall from my own mouth, cringing, but continuing to talk regardless. “Are you intentionally trying to screw up another of my campaigns?”
&
nbsp; Jadine looks hurt. “I had nothing to do with what happened on the Belle Oaks ad.”
“That’s not what I asked!” I yell.
Ethan interrupts again. “Alright, that’s enough. We’ll sort this out tomorrow.”
Jadine lowers her voice. “Is this about Cosmo?”
She may as well have flicked a switch lighting up the fiery pits of hell. “No, this is about you landing the agency with a five-grand bill for work nobody signed off on.”
“I can’t believe you’re making such a fuss over this. Just return the invoice and say we don’t want to book the location – no big deal.” She rolls her eyes at her stunned audience, and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to slap somebody so much in my entire life. “I told Cosmo he’s too soft. He shouldn’t have let you off the hook by resigning.”
“Are you kidding me? Do you want to repeat that?”
“You heard me the first time. Cosmo didn’t do anything wrong.”
My blood starts to boil. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Violet’s right, Jadine.” Freja swoops over to stand by my side. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“And you do?”
Freja steps forward, her hands on her hips and her long red hair falling like a wall of flames down her back. She looks like fire, but her glare is pure ice. “You need to back off. This is none of your business, and whatever bullshit story Cosmo has fed you won’t check out.”
Jadine freezes and looks to Ethan for support, but his gaze is fixed firmly on me. And I wonder why he’s not saying anything. Why isn’t he backing me up? Why is he standing back while a woman I’ve known a few weeks leaps to my defence?
I count to ten. Then I – somehow – manage to regain my composure. Jadine, on the other hand, looks like she’s about to collapse in a pool of tears. Ruby consoles her. “Hey, why don’t we get that party started back at my place?”
I don’t wait to find out her answer. I pick up my bag and head for the Tube station.
* * *
The crisp night air bites my face as a couple of tears escape. I curse myself for spinning out of control again. I’m so tired of crying. I’m so tired of being embarrassed by my own behaviour. At BMG I was nicknamed the Snow Queen. Now I’d be lucky if my colleagues called me the Melting-into-a-permanent-blubbing-mess-of-sludge Queen. Ethan, Max, Freja – everyone champions the benefits of opening up and sharing their feelings, but I was definitely more emotionally stable when I was a closed book. And I was happier.
The noise of my shoes clicking on the pavement syncs with the movements of my shadow. I’ve only worn these shoes twice before, and they’ve been pinching the back of my heels since I left the office earlier this afternoon. Every step is torture.
I see the huge glass-and-steel arch marking the entrance to the station and I pick up pace. I hear footsteps behind me, but I don’t realise who it is at first. Not until I hear him call my name.
I spin around, wincing as my ripped-up ankles grind against my shoes. I look directly into a familiar pair of piercing blue eyes. “Why are you here, Ethan?” I ask wearily.
“I need to talk to you.” He has a discernible measure of “boss” in his tone, but at least there’s kindness in his expression.
“Before you say anything, I know I overreacted. I’ll apologise to Jadine tomorrow.”
“It’s not going to be that easy. She wants to make a formal complaint to HR.”
I roll my eyes and shrug. “Let her. I’ll counter her complaint with one of my own. Freja told me she’s been spreading rumours about me.”
“You need to rise above it.”
“You need to mind your own business.”
“What? It is my business.” He takes my elbow and leads me to a quiet spot away from the steady traffic flow of evening commuters. “It is literally my business – Tribe is my agency.”
“Your one per cent is nothing. Stella said so herself, remember?” He flinches at my comment, sadness landing in his eyes. Why do we keep hurting each other?
“Well, you know what, she’s probably right. I’m sure my one per cent won’t be enough to stop her booting me out on my backside for having the world’s most dysfunctional department.” He’s pissed off with me. But not as pissed off as when I told him about Ryan, or when I messed up the Belle Oaks ad, or when I told him I wanted to cool things, or when I ranted at him over Jadine . . . Christ alive, was there a time in the last month when he wasn’t pissed off with me over something?
“I’d lay a bet on Stella booting me out on my backside first.”
“So don’t let her. You sent the right work through to Media. Stand up for yourself.” The wind starts to pick up. I wrap my scarf around my neck, sinking my face into the soft wool. “This is killing me, Vi. This isn’t you.”
“This isn’t a picnic for me either. I’m usually so together, but today, with Jadine, I just can’t get a handle on my emotions.”
“I like that you have emotions now.”
“I’ve always had emotions, Ethan.” A lump forms in my throat. “I just used to be better at hiding them.”
He sighs. “You’d be happier if you didn’t try to hide them at all.”
“Why didn’t you speak up for me with Jadine? Why didn’t you take my side? Why can’t you see what she’s doing? Why are you so bloody . . . you?” Oh, god. Why did I have to say that? In the absence of a boot to kick myself with, I dig my fingernails into the skin of my palms.
He blows out an exasperated sigh. “Violet, I have absolutely no fucking idea what the hell is going on and I don’t know what you think Jadine’s doing, but what the hell does it matter?”
“She’s spreading rumours about me. Freja caught her doing it at work and last night.”
“Then make a complaint about her and I’ll back you all the way.” He shrugs, and I realise he doesn’t think this is anywhere near as big a deal as I do. “Vi, please, I can’t stand this. I don’t think I’ve ever been more miserable. How did this happen to us?”
“We changed.”
“Is this what you want? Because it sure as hell isn’t what I want.”
“No, Ethan, it’s not what I want. Truth be told, this was never what I wanted. Tribe was your dream, and I’m here because I had no choice. You just expected me to come work with you.”
“I didn’t expect you to do anything. I only hoped you would.”
“Well, I did and now I’m unhappy here. I hate the people, I hate my job, I hate Tribe and I hate my—” My throat locks as my voice breaks. Two pathetic cries in the space of ten minutes must be a record.
“You hate your what?” he asks softly.
I sniff and raise my face to the sky. “I hate myself.”
The agitation on his face transforms into pity. Great. Just what I need. He looks at me like I’m a hurt child or a teenager going through an identity crisis. I despise it, yet at the same time I let his concern wash over me and nourish my soul. Pity is better than no emotional connection at all.
“I’ll be fine,” I say with a reassuring smile. “Just . . . I need to work a few things out.”
He runs his hand through his hair. “Okay, but don’t blame me for being distant when you’re the one pushing me away.”
I dare to meet his gaze and my heart aches. Because even when he’s angry and frustrated with me, he’s still so beautiful. In another world, a braver version of me would tell him he could fix everything just by loving me. “What Cosmo told Jadine isn’t true.”
He looks confused. “Which part?”
I feel the shame creeping back through my veins. “I only went back to his house because I was sick. He loaned me some clothes.”
“Okay.” His face is blank. “I admit I was mad that you left with him, but you’re allowed to have a guy friend. You have Max, after all.”
I start to laugh, but really I want to cry. I don’t want his consent to have a friendship with another man. I want him to fight for me, to be jealou
s – to feel something. “Max is a non-threatening beta male. Of course you’re not bothered by him. His DNA was plucked directly from a box marked ‘friend zone’. Why do you have to be so bloody reasonable? I left with Cosmo to get back at you.”
“I know you did, but I didn’t understand why.”
“I’m trying to tell you why! It’s just . . .” I breathe through my nose to stifle a sob. “It’s just really hard.”
His face stiffens. “Cosmo told Jadine you ran out of his house in the middle of—” He inhales deeply and momentarily looks at the ground. “He said you ran off in the middle of making out with him. I didn’t believe that though.”
I shake my head. “None of that is true.”
“I believe you, but Stella told me he repeated that line to HR. And I know you didn’t fall down the stairs – Cosmo told HR all about the mugging. Why the hell didn’t you tell me about that, Vi? Cosmo says Max threatened to kill him for taking advantage of you.”
Every part of my body gasps. “Taking advantage . . . ?”
“For making out with you when you were drunk.”
“That isn’t why he threatened him.”
I can read the confusion in the mess of lines on his face. “So why did Max bombard me with all those messages? Why was he after Cosmo’s blood?”
My stomach tightens and I can’t form the words I need.
“Vi, you have to tell me what happened. I can’t help you out of this mess if you don’t.” His eyes grow large. “Violet, please. Tell me. Did he do something?”
“I went with Cosmo for a ride in his Bentley to look at the Christmas lights. Then I was sick. He took me back to his house, gave me some clothes . . . and then he came on to me. And not in a nice way. In a gross way.”
It's Complicated (The Agency Book 2) Page 23
