I’d like you both to research and write unusual Valentine’s Day stories for me. You girls both have talent and I think you could produce some fun, off-the-wall pieces for us. Why don’t we make it a competition? I’ll choose my favourite article and the winner will get a spot on the Valentine’s issue cover, which as usual will be unveiled at the Kiss and Tell Ball.’
My jaw dropped slightly but I managed to correct myself before Paddy or Miranda saw. The Kiss and Tell Ball was huge. It wasn’t your run-of-the-mill office party with tired-looking balloon displays, paper cups filled with weak beer and someone photocopying their bum. The Kiss and Tell Ball had often been described as “what happens when Disney meets prom night”. Laid on by Sleek’s publishers every January, it was an opulent, grand occasion that called for the sparkliest dresses, highest heels and falsest smiles for when sleazy Mr Lloyd, the head of the publishing group, came round. The Valentine’s cover was always unveiled there, since it was our biggest-selling issue. To think that my article had a chance to be on the front was mind-boggling.
We discussed a few more ideas – Valentine’s fashion, top present ideas, a special Out and About feature – then the meeting dispersed. As I began to walk back to my desk, Paddy called me over to him.
‘Ava, could I see you in my office for a second?’ he asked.
I nodded and followed him to his office at the back of the building. It was a tiny, cramped room with views over the car park and the commercial units opposite.
‘Take a seat!’ he boomed in his rich deep voice. He gestured to a scabby-looking chair with frayed upholstery that looked like it might fall apart if anyone sat on it.
Reluctantly, I sat down while Paddy took a seat on his huge black executive chair.
‘Now I know you really wanted the dating columnist job,’ he said. ‘But obviously your pitch didn’t go quite as planned…’
‘No,’ I agreed. ‘It definitely didn’t.’ I tried hard to stop my cheeks from flushing crimson but failed miserably.
‘Well I’ve had a chat with Miranda and we’ve agreed that Maddie is the best person for the job. However, we’ve also come up with an exciting new role for you.’ He paused and quickly dialled her extension number, murmured for a moment then hung up. ‘She’ll be through in a second to tell you all about it.’
Moments later, she strode into the office with a look of pure glee plastered to her face.
‘Ava, we want you to be our new wedding reporter!’ she cheerfully announced.
Kill me, I thought, just kill me now.
A text from Max was all it took for me not to cancel The Dog and Duck after work that night. After the day I’d had, I decided I’d more than earned a few glasses (bottles) of wine.
The Dog and Duck was an amazing little pub carved into the corner of a street in central Manchester. It was a slice of olde-worlde heaven with a large roaring fire and rustic oak beams; a sharp contrast to the ultra-trendy bars dotted around the city centre. My two best friends and I had met there various times during our decades of friendship. Exam results, crushes, break-ups and everything in between had been discussed within its cosy brown walls.
It was there, less than fifteen minutes later, that I found Gwen, Max and Amira waiting for me.
‘How’d it go today then, Munchkin?’ Max asked, getting up to greet me with a pat on the back. ‘Are you Sleek’s next top dating columnist?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ I answered. ‘I… er… may or may not have thrown up before I could do my pitch. Stupid fear of public speaking!’
‘Oh Munchkin.’ Max’s voice was low and sad. ‘Never mind, I’m sure they’ve got an amazing job lined up for you.’
He enveloped me in one of his signature bear hugs. Out the corner of my eye, I was sure I saw Amira’s shoulders tense as she sat in the cramped little booth. When I looked over at her, she mustered a polite smile then returned to her drink.
‘What’s this I hear about amazing jobs?’ Gwen tottered over in her ridiculously high heels and eyed me hopefully.
‘Well I didn’t get the job I went for,’ I said as we walked to the booth. ‘But never mind eh, I don’t fancy dwelling on it.’
‘Who did?’ Gwen asked. Obviously me saying I didn’t want to dwell on it had completely passed her by.
‘Maddie McQueen, who’d you think?’ I replied with a shrug. that I hoped would mask how I truly felt.
‘No flipping way! What does she know about dating; she probably has to put her number in phone boxes to get anyone interested!’
Max and I exchanged smiles; Gwen had struck again.
‘Anyway, like I said, I don’t want to talk about it. Anyone fancy a drink?’
I slid out of the booth at the same time Max did.
‘It’s my round; I’ve got this. You sit down, it’s been a horrible day for you.’
He smiled before walking across to the timber-framed bar. Almost every woman in the pub had their eyes on him and, although I’d never personally been attracted to him, it wasn’t hard to see why most women were. His striking looks that came from being half-Indian, half-English coupled with an effortless charm and a wicked sense of humour could make any self-respecting woman fall at his feet.
‘I’d better go and help him. Back in a sec,’ said Gwen.
Amira turned to face me, her features slightly stiff. She was fiercely beautiful, but the coldness in her almond eyes and pursed lips gave her face a harsh quality.
‘Not often we get the chance to be alone together is it?’ she asked with an icy smile. I got the feeling she was a tigress and I was the gazelle she wanted to have for lunch.
‘No,’ I agreed. ‘Max is usually always here isn’t he? So what have you…’
‘Listen up because I’m only going to say this once.’ Amira’s sharp voice cut across mine, bringing my sentence to an abrupt halt. ‘I know you and Max have this buddy-buddy thing going on but just remember who his girlfriend is, OK? If I see you hugging him, touching him or even fluttering your eyelashes in his direction, you’ll regret it. When it comes to my man, I don’t play nice.’
‘Amira, there’s nothing going on between me and Max! We’ve been friends forever but that’s it. If I give him a hug or hit him on the arm, I’m not flirting with him; it’s just part of our banter. I can assure you, you’ve got nothing to worry about.’
She scoffed loudly and looked me up and down. ‘Oh I know I don’t, but thanks anyway! Just do me a favour and keep your hands off him; he’s mine, not yours.’
‘Listen I–’
My attempt to defend myself was sharply interrupted by Max and Gwen returning with our drinks. Amira flashed me a nasty smirk before lavishing attention on her boyfriend.
‘Come
