“OK sorry what can I say? You bring out the caring side in me”, Adam’s voice trailed off. He had reached the kitchen at the far end of the international department. “Will they ever let me grow up?” she muttered as she lifted the receiver to dial Tony Black.
The phone had hardly rung and was picked up straight away.
“Tony Black”, a sharp, confident voice said.
“Hi Tony, it’s Laine over at Vestal. I’m afraid Reggie won’t be able to make lunch, he’s been delayed”. See? She could sound professional and make a stupid phone call.
“‘Never mind Laine, why don’t you come instead? In fact I insist.” Tony Black’s voice was as smooth and levelled as ever.
OK, I can handle this. no big deal, thought Laine.
“That is really kind of you Tony, but last time I looked they weren’t handing out expense accounts to assistants”, she joshed; yes I’m in control she thought.
“No problem Laine, it’ll be my pleasure to pay, 1 o clock. I’ll pick you up, I’ll book 192, see ya then”, and with that the phone went dead.
Shit, not in control now - what just happened? Exactly what Reggie & Adam had warned her of, that’s what. Shit, what now?
Tony Black was editor in chief of the UK’s largest selling music paper, Trash Central. Every record company would give their eye teeth to be having lunch with him. Many a deal was reached over a few glasses of chardonnay at 192.
What the hell am I gonna do? thought Laine. She knew it was an opportunity most would give their right arm for, but there was a sense of unease biting at her. She knew that Reggie and Adam were jesting and just winding her up about Tony’s crush on her, but it was peppered with fragments of truth. Anyone who’d been in the same room as the two of them could plainly see the way Tony looked at her. Whenever Laine was at a gig or a press launch Tony always made a beeline for her. What is it with me and older men? she thought. Tony was about fifteen years her senior, tall with an athletic build – and a charmer if ever there was one. Laine was sure that the last time he had been told no was when he was a child, and she was convinced he’d have been a very naughty child!
“Hungry like the Wolf” by Duran Duran was turned up in the International Department, which meant most of the building was suffering.
“Adam, I think we have a problem and it’s not Duran Duran”, said Laine in her I’m-not-panicking-but-really-I- am voice.
Adam laughed when he heard what had happened. “Oh Laine, what is it with you and this one?”
“Me?? I had nothing to do with it. He’d put the phone down before I could say no! What should I do Adam? I’m really not comfortable being on my own with him; besides, I don’t want to say anything I shouldn’t. I’ve heard he’s very good at worming things out of you”, she said, sounding a bit panicked and possibly a bit paranoid.
“Don’t worry, where did you say he’s taking you – 192?”
Laine nodded.
“I’ll give you guys a head start and then Ambra and I will’ - Adam raised his hands and mimicked quotation marks – “”accidentally on purpose” also have lunch at 192, OK?” said Adam, walking into his office.
“Yeah OK but don’t leave it too long”, sighed Laine.
“I’m on the hunt, I’m after you, smell like I sound…”, Adam’s voice could be heard singing through his office door.
“Adam that is not funny, really not funny”, shouted Laine.
The morning seemed to fly by: filing, coffee, press releases, meetings with photographers – Laine’s feet didn’t touch the ground. Vestal’s Managing Director Freddie Taylor had popped in with new signing Bandit, and was giving them the grand tour. Once signed to Vestal, Freddie always got the newbies to see Adam first, after all PR was his game and if anyone was gonna give you the feel good factor it was Adam Brighton.
“OK hot stuff go get tarted up for your hot date, you don’t wanna keep lover boy waiting”, joked Adam, making some rather lewd gestures. Not for the first time today Laine blushed and felt ill at ease.
“You really are not funny Adam. I just want to be myself, but I don’t wanna mess it up and give him the wrong impression. I’ve heard he can take offence really easily”, she said.
Laine had heard via the grapevine that some poor secretary from Polyford Records had given Tony the brush-off with disastrous consequences. He had refused to feature any of the bands signed to Polyford for the last six months. The poor secretary was fired last week. Coincidence? Hmmm…
It annoyed Laine that in 1982, with a woman prime minister and feminism allegedly changing things for the better, one of the most creative industries of the 20th century was still stuck somewhere in the dark ages. She couldn’t equate why such a liberal, forward-thinking profession was full of chauvinists. It still looked as though as long as you fluttered your eyelids and played the game then everything remained smooth.
Uncomfortably this struck a nerve with Laine. She knew she had got her job because of her passion for music, yet there was always a tiny voice in her head questioning her belief. “Is it really because you love music and you’re good at your job or is it because you’re young and pretty and because your legs are very, very long, Laine Marshall?” Whilst these thoughts did not rule her, they did make her wonder why it was such a man’s world. “Aw sod off”, she said loudly, wondering if others answer back to their subconscious.
“My advice Laine? Just be yourself and talk about your boyfriend a lot OK? That way any wrong ideas he has, well, you’ll be able to put him straight, alright?” Adam spoke a lot of sense when he put his mind to it, she thought. Maybe there are some brains beneath that mop of black hair after all.
She knew this was a big deal. She didn’t want Tony to start holding a vendetta against the label or, god forbid, get fired. She knew Vestal well enough to believe they would not embrace those kinds of actions.
The phone rang. ”Tony is in reception for you”, said Temi, Vestal’s receptionist.
“Thanks Temi, I’ll be right down.” Laine had a quick check in her mirror.
OK Laine, you can do this, be yourself and don’t get pushed into anything. You are a strong woman, yes you are. Tears For Fears’ “Mad World” was playing on the radio as she grabbed her bag and headed for the stairs. ‘It certainly is a very, very mad world”, she thought.
2
“Wow Laine, you look fantastic! Ready for lunch?” said Tony, as Laine made her way down the stairs. He looked as cool as ever.
Does anything ever fluster him? Laine wondered. She felt flustered most of the time - oh to have his confidence, she thought.
“Thanks Tony, yep let’s go. Shall we walk? 192’s only down the road…” Confident, Laine, that’s good, she thought to herself as she tripped slightly over a loose piece of frayed carpet stuck at the bottom of the stairs.
“Change of plan Laine, I’ve got something much nicer planned - it’s a surprise. I’ve got the car round the corner”, he said, holding the door open.
Oh my God what do I do now, keep smiling, make an excuse, no you can’t, he’ll twig, ok keep calm…too many thoughts rushing through her head, she needed to focus. Beat, beat, skip a beat – Laine was sure her heart wasn’t supposed to do that. She had to think.
“Tony I’ve forgotten something, got to quickly rush back upstairs. I’ll meet you at the car - where are you parked?”
“Just on Westbourne Grove, don’t be too long”, he said.
“OK”, called Laine, as she raced back up the stairs of the mews house that doubled as Vestal HQ.
Where the fuck were Adam and Ambra? Neither were at their desks. Now she was truly screwed. Change of plan my arse, she thought, I bet he had this planned from the beginning. Laine felt numb. She knew she couldn’t keep him waiting for too long…where the hell were Adam or Ambra? She had no idea who Tony Black really was and was relying on the fact that Adam and Ambra would step in, carry the conversation, and save the day. Her impression of Tony had mainly been born of hearsay amongst her f
riends and colleagues. She so desperately wanted to do the right thing. Laine always wanted everyone to like her and would strive to go the extra mile for people. She would blame herself if things didn’t turn out the way she imagined, even when there was nothing she could have done to change the situation. Today was one of those occasions.
Running out of time to find either Adam or Ambra she decided the best thing would be to leave a note at reception with Temi.
Laine had learnt that if you wanted to know the history of who’s slept with who, then Temi was the source of all knowledge. Answering the phone (and having a shrewd eye for who enters the building just before/after who) had given Temi a fine-tuned instinct as to the state of play with staff members that was hard to match.
Laine and Temi had hit it off from the moment they met. Both were South London gals which immediately encouraged a level of trust between them. Temi was an attractive, intelligent twenty something. Her parents were from Germany and Nigeria and had moved to London from Berlin. She had a young face but her eyes were those of a soul that had lived beyond its years.
“Temi, please give this to Adam as soon as you see him”, panted Laine as she came flying down the stairs, missing the last two steps and having to do a quick recovery stumble before her knee hit the floor.
“Sure Laine, everything OK?” said Temi looking up from her switchboard.
Temi knew the score with Tony, she had seen him in action many times at Christmas parties and the like.
“Yeah everything is good, just let Adam know that Tony has changed the plan and organised a car somewhere so I’m not sure where I’ll be but I’ll be back by 3pm OK?” She realised that she was whispering but wasn’t sure why.
“OK, enjoy if you can”, said Temi, also whispering.
Laine headed out of the mews and up Portobello Road to the junction with Westbourne Grove. The sun was shining and music was seeping out of various office windows, Human League from one, Genesis from another. I’ve never thought of my office as a house but strangely today I do, she thought - my children are embarrassing me in front of the neighbours. A cheeky grin crossed her face as the music faded behind her. Once more unto the breach, she mumbled to herself as she headed up towards the sunny, colourful junction.
Temi opened out the note Laine had left for Adam. It read: “Tony has changed the venue, don’t know where we’re going - will do my best, sorry if I screw up. Pray for me! Lxx.” Temi looked at the switchboard. Adam’s phone light was active; he must be back in his office. Maybe there was a way she could help Laine.
Tony was waiting in a silver Sirocco. As she approached she could see he was eager to get going - he was frantically strumming his fingers on the dashboard in no obvious pattern. As he caught her eye, his expression changed. He smiled and jumped out of the car. He
swiftly made his way around to the passenger door and ceremoniously opened it. “Your carriage awaits, Cinders”. Not quite sure of the correct response, Laine smiled, curtseyed and stepped into the car.
“As it’s such a fine day I thought a picnic in Holland Park, what do you say? Let’s try and get a little bit of normal squeezed into our lives shall we?”
“That sounds great Tony, I wish you hadn’t have gone to so much trouble though”, she said, deliberately avoiding his gaze, staring instead at the silver polished dashboard.
She could feel his eyes searching her face, alternating between keeping his eyes on the road and stealing her glances. Aware of his need for eye contact, Laine looked up, keeping her gaze directly on a stone chip she’d identified on the windscreen. She could sense his constant glances towards her but remained resolute in her study of the stone chip.
She had now identified at least two more chips, which helped to keep her eyes firmly focused frontwards.
“No trouble for you, Cinders”, he said, trying to catch her eye again.
What on earth? thought Laine. He is so sickly. How am I ever going to survive? Feeling slightly nauseous, she wound down her window, slightly fixing her gaze on the street outside.
Head now turned to her left she felt the gentle warm breeze on her face, and began to relax. The pressure of eye contact had passed and she now felt a little elated. The victory however small had been hers.
If it all goes horribly wrong at least I can run back to the office, she thought, trying to reassure herself. Cinders eh? Well that may be, but on my salary I can’t afford to go losing a shoe. Still looking out at the West London traffic Laine smiled to herself. If he thinks I’m Cinders, is he really so bold as to think he is Prince Charming? Attractive, yes, she thought. Adam Ant? Most certainly not.
Tony was on fine form, chattering all the way about photo sessions and prima donna artists who were lucky to be photographed at all. Laine was happy to just sit and listen. She felt completely out of her depth. On the one hand, she could certainly hold her own when discussing the pros and cons of popular culture: in this arena she was an equal. Yet in the realm of important music industry editor and lowly press office assistant she felt very uncomfortable and unsure of what was acceptable.
Tony parked up and before she could even think he had appeared kerbside to open her door. In the boot of the car was a picnic hamper chock-full of mainly Chardonnay and a picnic blanket. Here we go, thought Laine.
They strolled slowly into the park, each trying to gauge an acceptable speed for the other. It had been an exceptionally good July and the park looked in fine form, greenery invading every vista. The grass had just recently been mown and its sweet fragrance still hung in the air. Tony found a nice spot underneath a coloration of deep green Oak trees; surprisingly, given the weather there were not many people in the park.
He’s even got a travel rug, she thought, as he laid it out underneath the tree. What sort of man has a travel rug always in the boot of his car?
“Why are you so nervous?” Tony’s voice injected into her thoughts and brought her slap bang back to the park.
“Why do you think I’m nervous?” asked Laine, trying to sound confident but just not pulling it off.
“Because you have pulled up half of the park!” he laughed.
Laine looked down - to the right of where she was sitting she had unwittingly been pulling at blades of grass. Now it appeared a whole section had been decimated.
“Sorry Tony, things on my mind”, she said, looking away so that he was not able to read her face.
“Well, let’s see if I can take your mind off of those things – here you go”. He handed her the biggest glass of wine she had ever seen. Sod it, thought Laine, I’m gonna try to relax and act normal.
Two large slugs of wine helped to achieve a semi-relaxed state, and apart from an initial rush of light-headedness Laine was starting to enjoy herself.
“I could start to get used to this, Mr. Black”, she said, smiling.
I’m flirting with him! What am I playing at? I must be a complete valley girl, she thought, internally reprimanding herself. Laine wasn’t even sure what a valley girl was, but she had heard it used enough times around the office to know it suited her situation.
Tony inched closer. “Laine, you need to know I’m not all I appear. Let me re phrase that…I know I’ve got a reputation but really I’m not like that.” His voice was low and deep with a touch of silk inflecting the tone.
“Like what?” she said, biting her lip. Oh Christ did I really just bite my lip, what the hell am I playing at? I really need to have a word with myself, nice girls don’t falsely lead men on she told herself. Who the Victorian schoolmistress inside her head was she wasn’t sure, but she knew she should listen. She was aware that the wine was clouding her judgement. Now I know I’ve had too much to drink, voices in my head circa. 18th century! she thought, embarrassed at the way she was flirting.
Maybe - just maybe - he’s not that bad after all…maybe he’s nice? No he is not he is not! It was as if the two sides of her brain were engaged in a debate about Laine’s current thoughts. Now what was it I was sup
posed to get him to focus on …oh yes - Danny!
“Do you know that I’ve got a boyfriend, Tony?” she suddenly blurted out, aware perhaps there would have been a more subtle way, but hey that’ll be the Chardonnay talking. By now her cheeks were a little pink, a combination of sunshine, wine and embarrassment.
Tony did not miss a beat. “I did know, yes, but would you believe me if I said I don’t care?” He was looking straight at her, a small frown formed across the top of his forehead, making him seem even more attractive.
I wonder if he knows he’s doing that? pondered Laine. After all, she knew that biting her lip caused a reaction in men.
“Laine, this is the first time I’ve ever been alone with you”, he breathed out and whispered “ever” as if it carried with it his pent-up angst at having to wait until now to be alone with her.
Tony stared at her, willing her to hold his stare. “This is something I’ve wanted to do for such a long time”, he said, gazing down towards the now very bald grass, “But it has never been possible… I want to get to know you, not just the you I see with your pretty smile filling up my glass at various press junkets”. His tone was soft and caring.
Tony lengthened his arm around her waist. Laine slowly rocked backwards towards the rug, becoming cradled in his arms. His closeness, not unpleasant, sent a small tingle through her body. Wow, well, this is not what I was expecting, she thought, surprised by her own level of desire for him. Now where the hell was this page in Ambra’s guide to surviving the music industry with your integrity intact?
Whether it was the wine or the realisation that she was being seduced, Laine felt that whatever she did next would dictate the course of coverage the label would receive from Trash, and that thought somehow managed to bed itself into her now heightened senses.
OK Laine - time to launch - T minus 2 seconds, go! Sitting bolt upright and taking Tony a little by surprise she launched – “Tony I have to admit I am flattered by the attention you have given me, but I have a boyfriend. I like you, I do, despite your reputation, but I just can’t do this. You are an incredibly attractive man: under different circumstances I would be very flattered but I cannot and will not do whatever this is to Danny, he deserves my trust and honesty. I hope you understand?”
All Tomorrow's Parties Page 2
