by Tracy Bloom
Katy was sure she’d heard a gasp. Probably from Daniel – appalled she had been invited out to dinner by Cooper White and not him.
‘Of course she can, can’t you?’ said Andrew, glaring at her. ‘I’m free of course as well,’ he continued. ‘For any reassurance you may need.’
‘Oh no,’ said Cooper. ‘I’ve taken up enough of your time already. And I want to hear it direct from the horse’s mouth as it were. From the people who will be on the ground dealing with the account. As long as that’s OK with you, Katy. I mean, if you already have plans…’
Katy thought about the buying of the Christmas tree that would have to be put off but could see Andrew still glaring at her.
‘No, of course I can come,’ she said. She suppressed a yelp as Daniel kicked her, clearly expecting her to suggest that he accompany them. But she kept quiet. She didn’t need Daniel droning on. A brief dinner and then she could be home and that would be that. No big deal.
Chapter Eleven
Katy – Carlos is also diabetic but don’t let that worry you. It just means we must eat early on Christmas Day so we keep his blood-sugar levels up. Shall we say lunch at noon? Bye for now. Mum xx
How nice it must be to have nothing else to worry about other than what time Christmas lunch will be served, thought Katy when she picked up her phone to call Ben. She sighed. How on earth was she going to break it to Ben that not only were her mother and Carlos taking over their bed this festive season but they would also like to dictate what time they ate. She knew Ben would want to spend all morning slobbing around in pyjamas and playing with Millie’s toys then have a late, long lunch before they all collapsed onto the sofa to watch rubbish telly. She would tell him about the proposed new timetable another time. For now she would just concentrate on informing him that she had been asked out to dinner by an attractive Australian millionaire.
‘I thought you said no more late nights?’ said Ben when she explained, though she held back on describing Cooper’s appearance and wealth, choosing to refer to him as a pain-in-the-arse client whom she had to schmooze in order to secure the business. The trouble was that when she said it, she didn’t know what version she believed. And when she pushed open the door of the restaurant later on, having left straight from work, it was clear that her heart believed the first version, given the rate at which it was pounding as she approached the table where Cooper was already waiting for her. This is not a date, she told herself. Just pull yourself together. You have a job to do.
She still had Andrew’s words ringing in her ears. ‘This could be huge, Katy,’ he’d said when she’d popped her head into his office before she left. ‘You know the drill. Promise him whatever he wants. This could be our ticket into the big time. Another airline, Katy! Just go dazzle him.’
She’d not said anything as she walked away. Talk about pressure. She’d decided to walk to the restaurant. Get her head together. Work out the key points she needed to get across. Get her head into his mindset and work out how best to allay his fears. The trouble was that every time she thought about Cooper, she felt a bit funny, which was highly distracting and wrong on so many levels.
‘Give him one for me,’ Daniel had shouted as Katy passed his door, obviously still smarting from the fact she’d not insisted she take him with her. She’d tried to make him understand that not every pitch was won off the back of the creative, but he’d told her she was being ridiculous and had sulked all afternoon.
Cooper had picked an Indian restaurant, explaining that he’d been told that Leeds was the home of some fantastic Indian food and he always liked to try local specialities when he travelled.
He was studying the menu as she approached the table but immediately stood up the moment he sensed her presence and rushed round to hold the chair back for her. The restaurant was mostly empty as it was only six thirty, and as Katy explained to him, the tradition in Leeds was to eat curry late, after a skinful of beer.
‘Well, we can do that,’ he said. ‘If that’s the tradition.’
‘No, no,’ she said. ‘Too much beer ruins a good curry – believe me. Eat it and enjoy it sober.’
He laughed and their eyes met. She looked away quickly, embarrassed, and pretended to study the cracker that was sitting in her place setting.
‘Shall we?’ he asked, offering her the other end of his own cracker. ‘I haven’t pulled one of these for a long time. And never while eating curry.’
‘Seriously?’ she said. ‘You don’t go out for a curry at Christmas purely to pull a cracker?’
‘Funnily enough no. I’ve never done the curry and cracker Christmas combo.’
He’d taken off his jacket and the white of his shirt was almost as dazzling as his smile. She’d have to put shades on in a minute, she thought.
‘Well, we’d better start as we mean to go on then,’ said Katy, holding up her own cracker.
‘After three,’ he said, grasping hold of the other end. ‘One, two, three.’
The crackers were of the slightly limp variety that came apart with a weak bang and left you holding in your hands a lot more than dropped out on to the table.
‘A fortune-telling fish,’ cried Cooper, picking something up from the floor. ‘I’d forgotten all about these.’
She watched as he pulled the fish shape cut from red translucent plastic paper out of the packet and held it up in front of his face.
‘I had no idea they still did these,’ he said as if he’d rediscovered some treasured toy from his childhood. ‘Hold your hand out,’ he demanded.
‘What?’
‘Hold your hand out,’ he said again. She tentatively raised her hand as he grasped it then laid the red fish in her palm. She stared at their two hands together and the wriggling, squirming fish on her skin. This was not how she had expected the evening to begin. Hand in hand inspecting a curling piece of plastic paper.
‘Very interesting,’ he said as he studied the chart on the packet, which told you what the movement of the fish indicated.
‘What? What does it say?’ she asked.
‘Well, it says if it curls right up, and I think you’d agree that it’s curled right up, that you are passionate.’
‘Oh,’ she said, pulling her hand away quickly. She could feel herself start to blush. ‘I don’t think it’s entirely curled up,’ she added, pretending to scrutinise the fish. ‘It’s more sort of waving its head and its tail about.’
‘Well, according to this, that means you’re in love.’
‘Oh,’ she said again, feeling herself blush even harder. She really had to stop this. She was in love. With her husband and her child at home. How could the company of an attractive man be sending her to mush? This wasn’t on. She had to get back into professional mode. They may be out for a meal but this was still a business meeting where she had a job to do, and that was what she needed to focus on, not the stupid predictions of a red fish.
‘Here, I want a try,’ Cooper said, reaching over and taking the fish before she had a chance to steer the conversation back to work. She picked up the menu and pretended to study it while Cooper continued his fascination with the fortune-telling fish. After a few moments he put it down and picked up his own menu without saying anything.
‘So?’ she asked. She couldn’t resist it. ‘What did the fish say?’
He frowned. ‘It said I’m false.’
‘Oh. Are you?’ she asked.
‘Certainly not,’ he said. He took a swig of his beer, not taking his eyes off Katy as a waiter somewhere clearly decided that ambience was required and turned on a Christmas-hits CD.
He put the drink down.
‘In fact I pride myself on being honest and true.’
‘Right.’ Katy nodded, though she wasn’t listening. She was mentally recalling the bullet points she’d come up with that she felt were key messages to get over to Cooper during dinner. She wanted to press upon him their previous experience with overseas accounts, the account-management structure she w
ould put in place and her ideas for how they would build a relationship with his team on the other side of the world. She’d even put in a call to a friend from school who had emigrated to Australia ten years ago to talk about any cultural differences.
‘Come and work for me,’ said Cooper just as Katy was forming her opening sentence.
‘What?’ she replied, thinking she’d misheard over the din of Wizzard’s ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday’. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’
‘I said come and work for me. Come and be my brand director. You are exactly what I’ve been looking for.’ He held her gaze firm. He actually looked like he was serious.
‘Are you kidding me?’ she spluttered. She’d spent all afternoon preparing to wow him about Butler & Calder and now he’d thrown her this curveball.
‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I’m deadly serious. You are exactly what I’ve been looking for. In fact, you’re better than what I’ve been looking for. For the first time in months I’m pleased we haven’t found a brand director. You get it, Katy. You understand my vision, and we’d never even met before you stood up and blew me away this afternoon.’
‘But… what… was that some kind of interview this afternoon?’
‘No, no, no,’ said Cooper, shaking his head vigorously. ‘I’m not that calculating, seriously. I genuinely wanted to see the agency. I wasn’t expecting to meet my new brand director.’
‘Just slow down,’ said Katy, struggling to keep up. ‘I thought I was here to talk you into using the agency.’
‘Well, you are, sort of,’ he replied. ‘But to be perfectly honest the easiest way to talk me into using the agency is if you agree to come and work for me.’
Katy thought her head might explode. She couldn’t understand what was going on.
‘Are you telling me that if I don’t come and work for you then Butler & Calder don’t get the business?’
‘No, not at all,’ replied Cooper. ‘I’m just saying that if you come it’s a done deal. As brand director you’d want to work with your agency, right? All the problems of being on the opposite side of the world would disappear. You know everyone so the relationship is already tight. I can’t guarantee that if I appoint another brand director that Butler & Calder will necessarily be the obvious choice to them. But to be perfectly honest this isn’t about the agency. This is about you. I’m asking you to come and be Boomerang Airlines brand director. I think you’d be brilliant at it. And I’d start sleeping at night again.’
Katy couldn’t speak. She didn’t think she had ever been so shocked by anything in her life – apart from when she found out she was pregnant with Millie maybe.
‘I pay well,’ continued Cooper. ‘And we could find you a rental property until you get on your feet. Maybe on the beachfront.’
Australia, thought Katy. Her head was spinning so fast she’d barely taken in that the job would obviously be in Australia. Australia!
‘What does your husband do?’ asked Cooper suddenly.
‘How do you know I’m married?’
‘Wedding ring,’ said Cooper, nodding at her hand.
Inexplicably Katy felt her heart sink slightly. Had he known all along she was married? Was he just being nice to her because he saw her as a potential employee rather than because he fancied her? God, she was getting old.
‘He’s a stay-at-home dad as well as working at our daughter’s preschool.’
‘Perfect!’ cried Cooper. ‘So no real ties then. I was worried you might be married to a high flyer who wouldn’t want to leave his job. Or worse that you had children in high school.’
Katy felt stung by his writing off of Ben’s commitments and by the assumption that she could be old enough to have teenaged children.
‘If I may say, it sounds as though you have good circumstances for taking up an opportunity to live and work overseas. It sounds like the timing could be perfect.’
It could, thought Katy, if it weren’t for one thing.
‘When would you want me to start?’ she asked tentatively. She saw his face flicker slightly as he smelt victory.
‘As soon as you could. After Christmas would be ideal. Of course, it would also depend on Andrew, but if the Boomerang account was secured I think he might be a little more flexible on your notice period, don’t you?’
Katy said nothing, just played with her knife, trying to get her thoughts in order.
‘I’ll fly you over there for Christmas,’ said Cooper. ‘You and the family. See if you like it.’
‘I can’t do that,’ she said. She could picture the astonishing array of fairy lights and inflatables that now adorned their home. Ben’s excitement at their first Christmas in their proper house and the three stockings that he had so proudly hung on the mantelpiece. She could also picture the fourth stocking he’d bought. The one for the baby he wanted to be with them by next Christmas.
‘Why not?’
‘We have plans for Christmas,’ she said. She could hardly tell him that the plan was to make a baby and she had no idea how that plan might fit in with this new plan of taking up the job of a lifetime. She needed time to figure that one out.
‘You don’t like being told what to do, do you?’ said Cooper, leaning back in his chair.
‘No, not really,’ she admitted defiantly. He was rushing her. She needed time to process this.
‘Can I just share with you something a very wise person once said to me?’ asked Cooper.
Katy nodded, feeling numb.
‘She said, “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”’ Cooper looked into her eyes the whole time and never faltered. Repeating the lines back to her, word perfect.
Katy stared at him. It was an old trick of hers to throw quotes from great literary heroes into pitches. She knew it gave a much-needed intellectual air to what they were presenting. It made it sound like what they did was a serious and important matter not just about trying to help flog more stuff. Typically the client would smile back at her knowingly as if to say that he or she was familiar with all the great classics and how smart of her to recognise their intellectual superiority. She had never had a client throw a quote back at her and use it so cleverly.
What would she be most disappointed by twenty years from now? It wasn’t as simple as Cooper White thought. It wasn’t only moving to Australia she needed to consider, it was also the possibility of not having another child. She wondered if Mr Twain or indeed Mr White had a quote to solve that one.
Chapter Twelve
‘Oh, it’s you,’ said Alison when she opened the door.
‘Thanks for the rapturous welcome,’ said Ian, sliding past the large heavy oak door into the double-height hallway. ‘How are things at Dynasty Towers today, Alexis?’
‘Hilarious,’ she said, gliding past him. ‘Matthew’s in the kitchen.’
Ian watched as she departed through one of the four doors leading off the hall. He considered for a moment removing his shoes then decided against it. Real men didn’t wander around other people’s houses in their socks.
He picked a door and found himself in the downstairs loo and hurriedly backed out. Ian had only been to Matthew’s house once before. He didn’t seem to be on their dinner-party list for some peculiar reason.
‘So this is where you’re hiding,’ he said, finally finding the door to the enormous kitchen-diner.
Matthew looked up from the paper he was reading at the table and grinned. In one fluid movement he got up, walked to the fridge and extracted two bottles of beer. He didn’t normally drink during the week but he considered it an exception if they had guests even if they weren’t invited.
‘Unexpected,’ Matthew said, handing Ian a beer and nodding for him to join him at the table.
‘Mmm,’ said Ian, taking a swig. ‘Got sick of my own four walls
, thought I’d chance it that you were around.’
‘No date tonight then?’
‘I’m not out every night, you know.’
‘All right, touchy,’ said Matthew, taken aback by Ian’s grumpy reply. Ian was notoriously proud of his stamina for going out in his forties. He could keep up with the best of the twenty-something graduates who arrived every year, fresh-faced and naïve, to the firm. They soon learnt to avoid nights out organised by Ian, who would drink anyone under the table and wouldn’t allow them to go home unless it was at least one in the morning.
‘I was supposed to be out actually. Bernadette, a hairdresser from Otley, was keen to meet, but I just couldn’t be arsed.’ Ian gave him a forlorn look and Matthew wondered if he was ill.
‘Unusual,’ said Matthew.
‘I know,’ said Ian, shaking his head. ‘I can always be arsed. Do you think I’m getting old?’
‘You mean you don’t think you’re still a teenager any more?
Ian managed to raise a smile but barely.
‘Has something happened?’ Matthew asked. ‘The Viagra stopped working?’
‘No,’ said Ian, not even rising to the bait. ‘Carol’s getting remarried.’ He raised his bottle to his mouth and took a deep slug.
‘Oh,’ said Matthew. This wasn’t how he would expect his friend to react to his ex-wife’s nuptials. This was exactly the sort of thing Ian would brush off with a joke. But clearly he wasn’t finding it funny. ‘Well, I suppose it’s to be expected. You have been divorced a long time.’
‘Mmm,’ said Ian, starting to peel the label off his beer bottle in a distracted fashion.
Matthew sighed heavily. He wasn’t good at this. He didn’t know what to say. Their friendship was not built on sharing confidences and emotions. It existed purely off the back of general piss taking.
