I get to the agency before 8 a.m. but I’m still the last to arrive for our PR-the-hell-out-of-this-mess meeting.
Paloma has commandeered my favourite meeting room, even wheeling in a rarely used whiteboard, which she has already covered with writing and sticky notes. Nasrin is seated at the table glowering at her tablet, and Marie is standing by the window taking a drag of an unlit cigarette. If we were in a movie, we’d call this the war room.
‘Oh good, you’re here,’ says Paloma, looking my way fleetingly. As I enter, she scribbles something on a sticky-note, then affixes it to the whiteboard. She stands back to regard the board, then swaps the position of two sticky notes.
I walk around the table, distributing the takeaway coffees I got from the café downstairs: a skim flat white for Paloma, a mocha for Nasrin, and a long black with three sugars for Marie.
‘Poppy, you’re a gem,’ says Paloma before taking a sip.
I’m not sure I’m a gem. Surely, it’s expected that when you’ve landed the agency in hot water and your colleagues come in for an early meeting, you bring coffee – and pastries. I set a paper bag brimming with croissants in the middle of the table and tear it open, releasing the most delicious aroma. I take one and after prying my cappuccino from the carry tray one-handed, I take a seat next to Nasrin.
‘Hey,’ I say quietly, ‘I’m sorry about yesterday.’ She sips her mocha and grunts softly. ‘You were right; I should have spoken to you first. It’s our case and I messed up. Forgive me?’
I look her way and the corner of her mouth twitches.
‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘I promise not to tell anyone you accepted my apology.’
She smothers a grin and, head shaking, takes another sip of her coffee. ‘Dag,’ she says, lobbing an Aussie-ism at me.
‘Muppet,’ I quip back and we snigger together, collegial again.
Paloma checks the time on her phone and calls the meeting to order, but Marie stays put until Paloma shoos her towards the table with a whiteboard marker.
‘All right,’ Marie protests. She sits opposite me, rolling her eyes in Paloma’s direction. But I’m already on shaky ground with this case and I need Paloma’s help, so I don’t join in. Marie flattens her lips, judging me silently. That’s fine – I’d rather be in her bad books than Paloma’s.
I’m taking in the contents of the whiteboard when Saskia, typically graceful and unflustered, enters less-than-gracefully and extremely flustered. ‘Soz,’ she says to the room. ‘Total mare getting into Richmond this morning.’
Shit, what is Saskia doing here? When we spoke yesterday, Paloma made no mention of Saskia attending this meeting.
Panicked, I wonder if I have time to pop downstairs and buy her an oat-milk latte.
But I don’t. With a nod towards Saskia, who opens her planner, her pen poised to take notes, Paloma kicks off the meeting again. For twenty-five minutes, she walks us through a comprehensive and well-thought-out PR plan, using the whiteboard as a (surprisingly) useful visual aid.
She ends by pressing the cap onto the marker with a click. ‘Questions?’
‘Poppy,’ says Saskia, angling towards me, ‘do you think the client will agree to this?’
When Paloma asked if there were any questions, I figured she meant for her, so I’m caught a little off-guard. Will Elle go for this? From my experience of Elle, she avoids the spotlight. This plan will require the exact opposite from her – and Leo.
‘It’s possible,’ I say carefully. It’s a very clever plan – open, honest, appealing to the public’s empathy, their love of romance… I’m just not sure how appealing it will be to my client, even if it is the only way she and Leo can be together without damaging their respective careers. It’s a big ask.
Paloma cocks a hip and crosses her arms, pinning me with an intense look.
‘It’s a brilliant plan,’ I blurt, hoping to appease her.
‘Well, yes,’ she replies immodestly. ‘I’m not just here to organise congratulatory gifts for our clients, Poppy.’
Oh god, it really is easy to get on Paloma’s offside.
‘Oh no, of course not,’ I reply, ‘and I will present this to my client as soon we wrap up the morning staff meeting.’ Nasrin clears her throat beside me. ‘Sorry, we’ll present it to our client.’
‘Excellent,’ says Saskia as she stands. She closes her planner, sliding the slimline pen into its holder on the side.
‘Wait,’ says Marie, ‘I have a question.’ Saskia remains standing but indicates for Marie to proceed. ‘Where is Lorenzo’s publicist in this plan?’
Paloma appears a little ruffled, but regains her composure almost instantly. ‘I’ve determined that it’s best to proceed without her input.’
Marie sucks in a long breath through her cigarette, nodding slowly. She lowers the cigarette. ‘I am not convinced.’
‘Well, I don’t need for you to be convinced,’ Paloma replies coolly.
‘But her fingerprints are all over this mess,’ says Marie.
‘I’m actually inclined to agree, which is why I’d like to keep her out of it.’
Interesting. This is a one-eighty from yesterday when Paloma wanted to read Ser in on the case. Maybe something else came to light overnight. If it did, she’s playing it close to her chest.
She and Marie eye each other warily, a stand-off between the head of client relations and the agency’s investigator. Nasrin and I glance at each other, our expressions silently conveying, ‘Oh my god!’
‘Marie,’ says Saskia, breaking the tension, ‘was there something specific that’s troubling you?’
‘Oui, but it is just a hunch for now.’
‘Care to share?’ Paloma asks, her tone laden with annoyance.
Marie leans forward, propping both elbows on the table. ‘A connection between the publicist and Franzia. Something is there, I wonder?’
There’s a beat of silence and I glance at the others, who seem as intrigued as I am – even Paloma.
‘Go on,’ Saskia prompts.
Marie shrugs. ‘As I say, it is just a hunch, but I will look into it.’
‘Please do – and quickly,’ says Paloma, with a (teeny) trace of conciliation. ‘Poppy, you and Nasrin meet with the client after the staff meeting and report back. I’ll leave this here for now,’ she says, indicating the whiteboard.
The meeting disbands, but Nasrin tugs on my arm and I stay.
‘What do you think? Will Elle go for it?’ she asks.
‘I really don’t know. It’s a lot to ask of her.’
‘Not if she loves him,’ says Nas, revealing her rarely seen romantic side.
‘True, but there’s no guarantee this plan won’t make things worse. It’s all about tone and timing…’
‘Mmm.’
‘And there’s the other issue – what Marie said. I’d hate to think that Leo’s publicist is working at cross-purposes with us but—’
‘She might just be an evil mastermind.’
I smirk at that, enjoying the momentary reprieve the levity brings.
Elle
I’ve slept so soundly that for the first few seconds after I wake, I forget where I am.
Then it all comes flooding back and when I turn my head, there he is, smiling at me.
‘Good morning, sweetheart,’ he says, leaning in for a kiss.
I hold up a finger then take a swig from the water next to the bed.
‘Now you can kiss me,’ I say, nestling into the crook of his arm.
He chuckles, then encircles me in his arms and kisses me softly. Leo’s kisses are so dreamy they could be bottled and sold; he’d make squillions. I wish we could stay like this forever – or at least for the foreseeable future. But reality pokes at me from the corners of my mind.
You still haven’t told him what Cassie did.
The public thinks he’s engaged.
He is technically engaged, even if it’s just for show.
The press is painting you as homewrecker.
There will be dire repercussions for Leo refusing Ser’s plan.
There’s no way you can collaborate now.
Or even be together.
I stiffen in his arms and he leans back, studying me intently. ‘Elle, are you okay?’
‘Uh-uh.’ I wriggle out of his embrace and sit up, folding my knees into my chest. I’m starting to shiver but it’s not from being cold. It’s warm inside Leo’s office – and his sofa bed. The shivers are a physical manifestation of the fear that everything is about to implode.
What have we done?
Leo sits up and scooches over, wrapping his arms around me again. He rests his chin on my head as he rubs my arm.
‘It’ll be okay,’ he says, his voice low.
‘You don’t know that.’
‘Not entirely, but we—’
‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ I say abruptly, cutting him off.
His hand stops moving. ‘Okay. What is it?’
The trepidation in his voice reverberates through me, and I almost chicken out. But I’ve already burst our little bubble, so I may as well lay it all out.
Staying exactly where I am so I can avoid making eye contact, I tell him about Cassie and the agency. Admittedly, it doesn’t sound as bad when I’m explaining it to him as when Poppy told me about it yesterday, but that may be because I keep emphasising that Cassie was doing it for me, for my happiness.
I finish with, ‘So, if it weren’t for my sister, we probably wouldn’t be in this mess…’ trying to inject a bit of lightness into what I’ve revealed.
Leo shifts beside me and lifts my chin with his finger, so I’ll meet his eye.
I expect him to be cross but if anything, he seems pleased.
‘If it weren’t for your sister, I’d still be pining for you and too terrified to do anything about it.’
‘What? You were pining for me?’
‘Of course. After Brandy took over the business and I was able to raise my head and breathe again, I wanted to reach out to you more than anything.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘As I said before, I was terrified you would turn me away.’
‘Why would I do that?’ I ask.
‘I don’t know – because you’d moved on or were angry with me or something.’
‘I wasn’t angry with you, I—’
‘Really? Are you sure about that? Because you’ve given me a tongue lashing more than once since that night at the restaurant – actually, including that night at the restaurant,’ he teases. Only I’m not in the mood for being teased – not even a little bit. Besides, he’s right.
‘I thought you didn’t care about me.’
‘Ellie, I did care. I do care. I always have. You don’t know that you were on my mind the whole time we were apart?’
‘Well, no. How would I know that? You ghosted me.’
‘I know but that wasn’t because I stopped loving you. I was just drowning under my obligations to my family and I thought the best way not to break your heart any more than I had – or my heart, ’cause I had a really shitty time of it being apart from you – was to cut all ties. I did it for your sanity and mine, because I knew I couldn’t come back here, and what was the point in dragging it out?’
‘That’s idiotic. We could have made it work.’
‘How?’ he says with a wry laugh. ‘Texas is five thousand miles away and I was running a multi-million-dollar cattle ranch while you were launching a design career. And even if the logistics hadn’t been a factor, I certainly was. I wasn’t the same person when I was back home. I was so resentful, furious that, even from the grave, my old man was holding Brandy’s happiness – and my mom’s security – over my head. Let’s just say I wasn’t the guy you fell in love with. I would have been too ashamed to see you. You would have hated what I became.’
‘I don’t know that I would have hated you,’ I mumble.
‘Really? You never once cursed my name in ten years?’ he teases, and this time I’m a little more receptive than before.
‘Once – in a moment of weakness,’ I reply with a smirk. ‘But seriously, Leo, you didn’t even let me be part of the decision. You just broke the news, then the next day you were gone and I never heard from you again.’
‘I know, sweetheart. And in retrospect, you’re right, it was idiotic. But I was a dumb kid, blinded by my hatred for my old man.’
‘And now?’
‘I’m a not-so-dumb man who’s grateful for a second chance. Or at least hopeful of a second chance,’ he adds, capturing my hand in his.
‘And what about the rest of it?’ I say, my voice strained with apprehension.
‘The rest— Oh, right. Yeah, there’s a lotta shit to deal with.’
In anticipation of what I’m about to say, a lump lodges in my throat. But I need to get these words out – it’s the mature, professional thing to do. ‘Leo, maybe we need to… I don’t know… Wait.’
‘On the collaboration? Maybe, but—’
‘No, I mean wait on us… being together.’
‘No,’ he says emphatically. ‘I’m not doing that. I spent ten years without you because I was a coward and a fool and I’m not wasting any more time.’
‘That’s… that’s a lovely sentiment but it’s not realistic. Ser has a plan for you, for your career, and like you said, you only have to pretend to be engaged for another month or two.’
He fixes me with a penetrating gaze. ‘Ellie, no. We’re not doing that. We’ll figure something out, but I am not going to keep pretending I’m engaged to Franzia when I want to be with you.’
‘Well, I suppose there’s one possibility. Poppy said that she and her team at the agency were working on a plan to help us.’
‘See? There’s still hope.’
‘Easy for you to say – you’re not public enemy number one.’
He tightens his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. ‘If you’re number one, then I must be number t—’
He’s interrupted by a loud thumping sound coming from downstairs. We break apart and look at each other. He’s obviously as baffled as I am.
‘Is that—’
This time, the thumping cuts me off and there’s also muffled shouting, a woman’s voice.
‘That’s not… That wouldn’t be Ser, would it?’
‘No,’ says Leo, climbing out of bed and slipping into his jeans. ‘Aunt Serena was pissed, but she wouldn’t come all this way without telling me.’ The thumping continues, becoming more ferocious. ‘They’ll break the fucking door down at this rate.’ He leaves the office, his footsteps loud on the wooden stairs. ‘I’m coming,’ he shouts as he descends.
There’s a moment of silence when he gets to the ground floor, which, somehow, is worse than the thumping. And then he says something that turns my blood to ice.
‘What the fuck are you doing here, Franzia?’
