to come from?
‘Not watching the game?’
Alexa jumped. She had assumed she was the only one left in the office. Riz was standing halfway between her desk and his, a sports bag slung over one shoulder and his hair spiky and wet. He must have been to the gym.
‘Um . . . no.’ Alexa blinked. She had heard the guys talk about some match tonight, but nobody had mentioned it to her directly. ‘I’m . . . working late.’
Riz nodded casually. ‘Well, we’ll be in the Eagle if you manage to get away. See ya.’
Alexa lifted a hand. ‘Goodnight, Riz.’
She waited for the door to slam before she exhaled, feeling embarrassed and ashamed on top of everything else. Riz was being charitable. She probably should have felt grateful to him for trying to include her in the team’s plans, but all she could think about was the fact that she’d been left out in the first place.
Alexa started to shut down, her eyes glazing over as she waited for the programmes to close. She looked across the office, wondering vaguely why her outlook seemed more restricted than usual. There was a remote-control helicopter, obscuring a large part of the features desk, but that wasn’t it. Then she realised. On Sienna’s desk was a stack of old copies of Banter. They were piled up, she realised, in a way that completely obscured Alexa’s view of Sienna and of the news desk beyond that. Sienna had erected a barrier between them.
Alexa reached down for her bag, wondering whether there was anything she could have done differently with regards to the surly assistant. It was never going to be easy, walking into a situation like this. Sienna had spent two years carving herself a cosy little niche, being the only female amid a bunch of alpha males who enjoyed her presence on their desks, in their laps and anywhere else they fancied. Here was Alexa, diluting her minority, ignoring her female wiles and restoring her role to the administrative one she was being paid to do. It was probably fair to say that no amount of lenience or kindness would persuade Sienna to switch her allegiance from the lads to the new, female MD.
Alexa trod forlornly towards the lift. Derek was her biggest problem. Derek had been knocked off his perch, just as Sienna had, but he had further to fall. Not only that, but he had more influence within the team. Whereas Sienna was seen as the office totty, Derek had respect. He was the deputy editor and people listened to him. His attitude towards Alexa had infected the minds of others.
Alexa could see it happening around her. She knew that most of the news desk saw her as some kind of joke – thanks to Marcus, the news editor who worshipped Derek’s every movement. Louis Carrillo was just one example. Loud, sexist and one of the team’s most senior writers, he laughed openly at Derek’s laddish remarks that were clearly designed to offend Alexa. Then there were others, in the middle ranks, who clearly didn’t know what to think.
Raising a limp hand in the direction of the security guard, Alexa pushed through the glass doors and took in a lungful of warm, polluted air. Her phone was ringing.
‘Hey, it’s me.’
A smile formed on Alexa’s lips, despite her mood. ‘Still on for a takeaway?’ Matt’s voice sounded tired, but warm. ‘Yeah.’ Alexa stopped just outside Senate House, staring at the words on the mock Tudor building opposite. The Eagle, read the gold lettering. Below the name hung a banner, announcing that Premier League games would be shown on Wednesdays and Saturdays throughout the season.
‘I’m just finishing up now,’ said Matt. ‘Shall I come straight over?’
Alexa continued to stare at the gold lettering, thinking about what might be going on inside.
‘Um . . .’
That was the problem. If she was going to make an impact at Banter, she had to get the team on her side – and to do that, she had to know them. She had to bond with them. Turning a business around wasn’t just about changing business models or distribution channels; it was about changing minds. She had to face up to the likes of Derek and Marcus and persuade them that she was a force for good. She had to go across the road and watch the football with them.
‘I . . .’ Alexa pictured her boyfriend’s face. His blue eyes would be narrowed questioningly, his tanned brow furrowed. ‘The thing is, I’m going to have to work this evening.’
Matt sighed quietly. Alexa wasn’t sure what to do. Her heart was telling her to salvage the date, to reverse the disappointment she had already caused and leave the Banter boys to watch the game. But her mind was telling her to cancel on Matt and cross the road. She loved Matt. She wished she could offer him something more than the distracted, exhausted wreck that was all that remained of her at the end of each working day. But that was the point. The only way she could ensure proper quality time with Matt was to get these things off her plate and then, once the teething problems were over and life at Banter developed more of a predictable rhythm, she would be able to devote herself fully to Matt.
She faltered for a moment and then made her decision.
‘How about we do a proper date, this weekend?’ she asked, as enthusiastically as she could with the guilt and shame weighing her down. ‘There’s no point in you coming round and falling asleep while I work.’
‘I guess.’ Matt sounded disappointed.
‘Hey, we could go to that place in Mayfair – the one that all your colleagues were raving about.’
‘Maybe, yeah.’ He seemed to brighten a little at this suggestion.
Alexa smiled. She knew how important it was for Matt to keep up with all the ridiculously expensive new restaurants in town. It wasn’t so much that he enjoyed the experience; it was more, as far as she could tell, that he liked to have something to talk about with his firm’s wealthy client base.
‘I’ll make a booking,’ said Alexa. ‘See you on Saturday. Mine at six?’
‘See you then.’
Alexa slipped her phone into her bag and stepped up to the road, waiting for a gap in the traffic. She was determined not to think about Matt, not to feel bad about letting him down. She had to leave that part of her behind, for now. It was time to mix with the lads.
The Eagle was a traditional pub with small wooden tables and benches that were nowhere near sufficient for the hordes of beer-fuelled revellers that filled the place. A giant screen had been erected on the end wall, directly above one of the tables, around which sat a group of girls who were clearly oblivious to the focus of attention above their heads.
It wasn’t hard to identify the Banter team. They were by far the largest group in the bar, and the noisiest. Alexa watched from the doorway as Derek pushed a pint into Marcus’ face, whereupon, to the sound of a slow hand-clap, the news editor gripped the glass in his teeth and downed it in about four seconds, hands-free. The clapping was drowned in a roar of jeering as the editor received another pint as his prize. Alexa hung back, wondering whether this venture was wise after all. Sienna wasn’t here, she noted.
The noise level swelled as a line of players in red kit filled the giant screen. She pushed herself further into the pub, one foot after the other.
Derek was the first to spot her, his expression morphing quickly from one of surprise to one of smug anticipation.
‘Ahha!’ he cried, pausing for a moment
