The Cinderella Reflex (27 page)

Finally, the day of the relaunch party rolled around. Tess took a deep breath, turned sideways and sucked in her stomach. She was spray-tanned and squeezed into a black dress that pushed up her cleavage and gave her lots of va-va-voom. Her hair was a credit to Mr Cheung and her kohl-rimmed eyes and
purple passion
lipstick made her look like a vamp. But inside she felt like a wreck.

Nerves were now so frayed at work that no matter what happened tonight, Tess felt things could only get better once the wretched contest was over. Ollie was still treating her like an outcast. Helene had taken to wandering around the office like a ghost, looking so preoccupied and downright lost that Tess almost found herself wishing for the old, snappy, dynamic Helene back. And as for Andrea – Tess’s stomach lurched when she remembered the look on her friend’s face when she’d revealed that Joe’s work colleague was a woman. They had been avoiding each other since and Tess had never felt so miserable in her life.

She sat down to wait for her taxi, pleating the sofa cushion covers absent-mindedly between her fingers. She was meeting Chris later, at the party. She still hadn’t collected her clothes from his apartment. She had told him she was too busy putting the final touches to her pitch for It’s My Show and Chris had empathised only too well. It was partly true anyway, Tess reflected. Things had been manic for everyone as they tried to perfect their entries for the contest. A last minute stipulation obliged each entrant to submit a twenty-minute recording, illustrating why they felt they had the elusive X factor.

Tess had been glad to have something to focus on, because it meant she had neither the time nor the energy to think about Chris, Andrea or Jack. Tonight, though, she was going to have to face all her demons together. The sound of the taxi honked outside and Tess stood up reluctantly. She did a last quick check in the mirror, forcing her shoulders down from around her ears. Showtime, she thought automatically. Then she clattered down the stairs to the waiting taxi.

Traffic was unusually heavy and they inched their way towards the hotel. Tess had eaten very little all day but, by all accounts, tonight was going to be a lavish affair, so there’d be plenty of food at the party. Sara had said there would be a red carpet at the hotel entrance and that lots of national media were expected, hoping to report on Atlantic 1 FM’s national license award.

As the taxi slid to a halt, Tess saw that Sara was right as usual. There was the red carpet laid up the steps to the hotel door. There were the burly bouncers dressed in black and white standing guard against gatecrashers and a posse of photographers lined up on either side of the two ropes, which formed a pathway for guests. A knot of local people stood by curiously. They were probably wondering whether any real celebs would show up, Tess thought, as she passed by with her head down. She showed her invitation to one of the bouncers, feeling like an idiot as he scrutinised it, and then her, closely, before finally waving her in.

Paulina Fox, looking immaculate in a white silk, sari-style dress, was handing out press packs to the arriving media in the lobby. Helene stood beside her, scanning the crowds anxiously. Tess ducked out of their sight and made her way to the function room where tall, lanky models looking beautiful and bored posed for the press, while a coterie of media and business types leafed idly through Paulina’s handouts. She spotted Sara perched on a high stool by the bar, nursing a very colourful cocktail. Tess weaved her way across to her.

“Who
are
all these people?” she asked, looking back at the crowded room.

“VIPs,” Sara murmured, sucking her drink through a straw and watching the action from under long, spidery false eyelashes. Tess looked admiringly at the skinny strip of fuchsia pink chiffon that was masquerading as a dress on Sara’s skinny frame.

“You look fantastic!” She gave her a nudge.

“Thanks!” Sara grinned and looked down at her outfit. “It’s my slut dress – in case there’s any talent here. Or Jack McCabe is looking.”

Tess nodded at the bartender. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

“Hey up,” Sara nodded towards the door, “look who’s arrived.”

Tess looked up to see Richard Armstrong enter the room, one arm draped around a dark-haired, plump woman who, even from this distance, looked uncomfortable.

“She must be his wife,” Sara said thoughtfully.

Louisa. Jack’s sister.
Tess craned her neck, to see her better. She felt a stab of sympathy for her. If Rosa was right, and Helene was pregnant, it was going to be a nightmare for everyone involved. Andrea had seemed pretty sure that Helene had known Richard was married from the beginning. But Tess had made enough mistakes herself to know that people often found themselves in situations they had never envisaged. The truth was, she wouldn’t like to be in Helene’s position tonight.

The barman returned with her cocktail and Tess clinked her glass against Sara’s.

“Good luck for tonight. When are they announcing the result anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” Sara said through her straw. “Are you nervous?”

“Not at all. I’m not going to get the gig anyway.” Tess sipped the pink sugary cocktail, the strong alcoholic kick on an empty stomach making her feel slightly giddy.

“None of us are going to get this gig,” Sara said gloomily. “Daddy says it’s definite now that the winner is an outsider. And after all that work we did with those bloody recordings! Honestly, we are
so
not appreciated. I’m going to look for another career after tonight.”

“Mmmm ... well, good luck with that,” Tess said through her straw, thinking of her own recent brush with unemployment. The two women scanned the crowds to see if they could read any small gesture of triumph in the body language of any of the guests.

“Hey – there’s Ollie!” Sara poked Tess in the ribs and nodded towards the other end of the bar.

Tess followed her gaze to see Ollie balefully surveying the pint of lager and shot of whiskey lined up in front of him. Ollie drinking whiskey chasers at this hour of the evening didn’t bode well for later on, especially if, as Sara had predicted, the gig was going to an outsider. That particular rumour had been circulating around Atlantic for the last couple of days, ratcheting the tension levels in the office to near hysteria, and Ollie was clearly brooding about it now.

“Excuse me, ladies, can I take your picture?” Tess turned to see a photographer with his camera trained on them. He was a young guy with dirty fair hair and slightly protruding eyes. He was wearing jeans, runners and a long trench coat.

“Who’s it for?” Tess asked.

“I’m a freelance so I’m not sure yet. But photos of beautiful women always sell!”

Tess smiled at his cheek and moved closer to Sara so he could get his shot. He spent the next few minutes barking orders at them, directing them to first look cheerful, then sultry, and finally, moody.

“Thanks, ladies!” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a grubby looking business card.

Sara took it and giggled. “Gai Gordan Ryder? Seriously?” She raised incredulous eyebrows at him.

“What? That’s my real name,” he said, surveying the room for more photo opportunities.

“Yeah, right!” Sara laughed.

“Food!” Tess spotted several large silver trays of canapés being carried around by waitresses dressed in short black skirts, thick opaque tights and white frilly blouses.

Sara nodded towards the entrance. “See Andrea’s just arrived with the hubby.”

Even from a distance, Tess could see the stiff set to Andrea’s shoulders and the grim expression on her face. When Joe quickened his step to close the gap between them, she shrugged him away angrily. Tess winced. Clearly they were still having trouble.

“I’ll go and see if they want to join us – you go and get some food.” Tess placed her drink on the bar and started across the floor before she could change her mind. If she didn’t face her now, she would spend the rest of the night fretting about it.

Andrea had her back to her, trying to attract the barman’s attention.

“Hi!” Tess smiled at Joe who responded with a small, warning shake of his head.
Don’t make matters worse.
But Tess was already tapping her friend on the shoulder. Andrea turned and gave her a glacial smile.

Joe sighed deeply. “I thought we said we’d leave all this at home?”

His wife whirled around to face him. “Yeah, let’s not wash our dirty linen in public – that’s your one idea for resolving things between us!”

Joe reddened and retreated, his neck slumping into his shoulders.

Andrea stared at her. “Did you want something, Tess?”

Tess was horrified to feel tears welling up. “I was just going to ask if you and Joe wanted to join myself and Sara.”

“We’ll stay on own for the time being. Thanks.”

“Oh! Okay then.” Tess turned away abruptly, trying to hide her discomfort and bumped into someone standing directly behind her.

“Sorry! Sorry ...” she muttered automatically, and looked into the face of Jack McCabe.

“Tess!” He looked at her curiously. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Tess blinked away tears and pasted on a smile. He was wearing black tie, looking ridiculously handsome. Tess stared into the crowd to distract herself from both the effect he was having on her and the upset she felt over Andrea’s reaction.

“Amazing party. It must have taken some organising?” she asked brightly.

Jack shrugged. “It’s just work. But you’re right. It did take some work – all Paulina’s of course.”

Of course, Tess thought.

He followed her gaze into the crowd. “I can’t help wondering if the woman Richard is having an affair with would have the nerve to show up here.” Jack scanned the crowd hungrily, as if he could figure out who it was just by staring into it for long enough.

“Right.” Tess felt a wave of discomfort. She didn’t want Jack asking her more questions about Richard’s love life. She was relieved when Paulina pitched up enveloped in a cloud of her Power Woman perfume. Even in a room full of beautiful people, Paulina still managed to look standout stunning. She leaned in and kissed Jack on both cheeks.

“Everything is going marvellously, isn’t it?” she said softly, her voice full of muted excitement.

“So far it certainly is.” Jack air-kissed her back.

Paulina’s eyes swept over Tess. “So. Are you here alone?”

“Er ... I’m meeting someone later, actually.”

“Really? Anyone we know?” Paulina leaned forward in a conspiratorial fashion.

Tess bit her lip. “You might know him. Chris Conroy?”

Paulina’s eyebrows arched. “The journalist? Oh, we know him all right. Is he your boyfriend?”

“Er ... yes,” Tess said, wondering why she felt so defensive.

“Really?” Jack seemed astonished and his eyes flickered towards Paulina.

Tess wondered what she was missing. Paulina had a secretive smile hovering on her lips, as if she was enjoying some private joke.

“Look, I’d better be getting back – Sara’s ordered food,” she said lamely.

“Indeed. I got top caterers in so it should be delicious. Enjoy ...” Paulina turned back to Jack, and Tess pushed her way through the crowds to Sara. She had a tray of canapés set up at the bar and had ordered more cocktails. Grandma Rosa had turned up, wearing a very exotic hat and sipping something yellow and lethal looking.

“I was just telling Rosa how the switchboard was lit up with callers looking for more from Psychic Granny! Isn’t that right, Tess?”

“It was pretty popular all right,” Tess said absently. She was looking over at Jack and Paulina, still deep in conversation, and wondering about their reaction when she said she was meeting Chris later.

“So, do you think the slot will continue once the pilot period is over, then?” Rosa asked eagerly.

Tess shrugged. “With all the changes going on it’s difficult to predict what’s going to happen for any of us any more. But surely I can’t be the only one who is sick of talking about work? We’re at a
party
!” She took the straw out of her drink and swigged back a very large mouthful. “So c’mon! Tell us some of your predictions, Rosa. You’re the expert. What’s in store for Sara and me?”

“Well, a tall, handsome man is about to walk into
your
life, Tess!” Rosa said.

“Yeah, right,” Tess laughed.

“He really is.” Rosa nodded over her shoulder and Tess turned to see Chris had arrived. At last. He looked flushed and harried, and as he got nearer, Tess did a double take. He was wearing
combats
?

“Didn’t you have time to go home and change?” Tess looked down at his khaki trousers.

“I’m coming straight from work – I was doing an insert into a TV programme about what it means to cover a war,” he said vaguely. “So. Has the winner been announced yet?”

“Not yet. Apparently it’s gone to an outsider.” Tess held up her glass. “I can recommend one of these while you’re waiting.”

Chris ignored her offer and grabbed the top of her arm. “Here – isn’t that Jack McCabe over there?”

“Ow! You’re hurting me!” Tess protested as the drink spilled down her dress.

“Sorry,” he said half-heartedly.

Tess rubbed her arm and followed his gaze. “Yes, it is – with Paulina Fox, the public relations woman handling the relaunch. I think she and Jack are an item,” she added, a bit forlornly. Chris was staring across the room with an intensity that was unsettling – like a hunter stalking his prey.

Tess turned back to the bar. “I’ll just get another drink for myself so. How about you, Sara? Rosa? The same again?”

But before they could answer Chris slid his hand around Tess’s waist and swivelled her around to face him again. “Let’s go over and say hello, shall we?” Chris took her hand and tried to pull her after him.

“Er ... I don’t think so,” Tess twisted out of his grip.

“Come
on
, Tess!” Chris said impatiently. He grabbed her hand again and went to move towards the centre of the floor. But he was stopped by a very inebriated Ollie Andrews, who was barring his way.

“Chris Conroy. We meet at last. The boy who’s out to take my job!”