The Cinderella Reflex (16 page)

STORMS BREWING AS ATLANTIC 1FM SOLD TO DUBLIN TYCOON

Tensions were evident at local radio station Atlantic 1FM this week when entrepreneur Jack McCabe finally confirmed his plans to buy the ailing station. But the business sound bites of the day were drowned out by the sound of a storm brewing at the station.

Flamboyant presenter Ollie Andrews, well known for his eccentric on-air outbursts, slammed future plans for the station, which include a nationwide contest for a new star. He called
It’s My Show
a shameless publicity stunt, and insisted he was the real star of Atlantic 1FM. Former producer Tess Morgan walked out of studio recently in the middle of her debut stint as an agony aunt on Andrews’ show and hasn’t been heard of since. Insiders say the real reason for Morgan’s untimely departure from the station was a massive personality clash with Ollie. Yesterday, Helene Harper, Morgan’s former boss, said Morgan was pursuing other projects and it was unclear if she’d be back on-air soon.

Meanwhile … who’s the busy executive enjoying a radio romance with someone they shouldn’t be? Watch this space . . . Rachel Joy.

Tess blinked. Insiders? What insiders? She read the report again. Clearly the mention of romance related to Helene and Richard but who was giving Rachel Joy her information? She squinted at the accompanying photograph. Jack was barely recognisable from the guy she’d met at Rose Cottage. In the picture he was every inch the business tycoon. The five o’clock shadow had been replaced by a close shave and he was wearing a sharp black suit, white shirt and a scarlet tie. He was flanked by a beautiful blonde woman described as his PR guru.

The sound of the doorbell pealed through the apartment and Tess looked towards the hall door, puzzled. Nobody called here in the middle of the morning. Most of her neighbours left at the crack of dawn, dropping children off at crèches before going on to work. She reckoned it must be a door-to-door salesman or someone doing a survey. She considered not answering at all, but she had done enough of those sorts of jobs herself to be nice to other people doing them. She opened the door – steeling herself to be diplomatic with whoever was on the other side – and took a step backwards in surprise.

Jack McCabe – the phantom phone-in caller, the newly announced owner of Atlantic 1FM, the man who would have been her new boss if she still had a job – was standing on her doorstep.

“What do you want?” Tess asked belligerently.

After all, this was the man who was at least partially responsible for the fiasco that had led to her losing her job. If he hadn’t phoned into the show when he did, she would have limped to the end of her slot without disaster striking. She would be at work now, part of all the buzz for the soon-to-be-revamped Atlantic 1FM, instead of at home, still in her dressing gown, trying to think of yet another new direction.

“I’m glad I caught you in,” Jack said.

He was dressed the same as he had been in the newspaper photo – all designer-looking. Tess looked in alarm at the black crocodile briefcase he was carrying. Maybe he was going to sue her for breach of contract because she’d walked off
This Morning
? She thought of having to use her meagre savings to pay legal fees to defend herself against the media mogul standing in front of her. She’d be stuck in Killty forever at this rate.

“Look, I’m a bit busy.” She took a deep breath as Jack started fiddling with his briefcase.

He looked at her quizzically. “Are you okay?”

“No comment.” Tess half-closed the door in his face, determined not to incriminate herself.

“Er … right.” He flashed her his disarming smile. “It’s just that you’ve gone a bit pale. Look, I …”

One of the locks on the briefcase snapped open and Tess took a step backwards. Maybe she should just slam the door in his face before he could serve her with a summons paper or whatever it was you did when you were suing someone? Then, thankfully, she heard her landline phone ringing.

“Er … I have to get that.” She moved to close the door fully but Jack stepped smartly into the hall first.

“I can wait – it’s no bother.”

Tess snatched up the phone, acutely conscious of him standing behind her.

“Hello?”

She gestured for Jack to go into the living room. The hall was much too tiny for both of them. She could smell his aftershave, a citrusy scent that would have been pleasant if she hadn’t been way too tense to care about such things.

“Hi,” she whispered into the receiver.

“Tess!” It was Andrea. “Why aren’t you answering your mobile? I’ve left a ton of messages!”

“I had it switched off.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“I can’t talk at the moment.”

“Why, who’s there?”

Tess sneaked a look in through the open door to her living room and saw Jack throw his jacket over the side of the sofa and loosen the knot in his tie as he sat down.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she breathed.

“Oh! Well, ring me as soon as you can,” Andrea ordered. “Have you heard the news? About Jack McCabe confirming he’s bought Atlantic?”

“I’ve just read about it online. But I can’t talk about it right now. Look, I’ll call you back, okay?” She replaced the receiver without waiting for a reply and walked warily into the living room.

Jack had the briefcase on the sofa beside him. He opened his mouth to speak but Tess got there first.

“I’m a bit busy, actually. Late breakfast.” She took the dozen steps to reach her tiny kitchenette and turned on the kettle switch.

“I’d love a cup of tea if there’s one going. And maybe a bit of toast? I haven’t eaten all day and I’ve been up since five.”

“Five? What are you – an insomniac?” Tess cut blue bits of mould off the last two slices of bread and stuck them into the toaster.

“Only when I’m excited about something.” Jack appeared in the doorway of her kitchenette, dwarfing the tiny space. “And I’m excited now, about buying into Atlantic. It’s funny, now that I’ve made up my mind, I can see it was always the right decision.” He parked himself on one of the two breakfast stools. “But beforehand? I just didn’t know.” He shook his head ruefully. “Normally when it comes to business, I’m the decisive type. Yes. No. Buy or let go. But this was more difficult for me because it really was a dilemma about whether I should let my heart rule my head for a change.”

Tess remembered him saying that on the radio
.

“So what made you change your mind?” She pushed a mug of tea towards him and poured milk into her own. “Clearly it wasn’t my advice,” she added pointedly.

“Well, it was in a way,” Jack said slowly. “It was my sister Louisa who really wanted me to buy into the station. But I didn’t agree with her reasons.” He gave her a speculative look. “You know Louisa is married to Richard Armstrong?”

Tess spluttered as a mouthful of tea went down the wrong way. Richard Armstrong, who was having an affair with Helene Harper?

“Er … no, I didn’t know that,” she mumbled, looking at him over the rim of her mug.

“Yeah, well, she is.” Jack’s face darkened. “More fool her, if you ask me. Slippery Dicky is hardly what you’d call catch of the day in the husband stakes. But Louisa has always adored him, and keeps making excuses for him, even now when he has finally run his business into the ground. And,” his mouth tightened, “she suspects he’s seeing someone else now as well.”

“Right.” Tess bit her lip. This was way too much information.

“Anyhow,” Jack continued, “Louisa thinks that me buying the station will take the pressure off the business, which in turn will take the pressure off their marriage. Which, of course, it won’t, because Richard will still be a prick.” His jaw tightened. “It was Louisa who got me to go to Grandma Rosa. She’s been going to her since she and Richard moved to Killty. Said she’d helped her with lots of stuff. I thought it was all old guff to be honest. I only went to humour her because she’s been so miserable. But then I met you there,” he smiled, “and when I heard you worked at Atlantic – well, even I thought it might be fate. So when you asked me to phone in with a problem I saw it as an opportunity to get a feel for the business.”

“Well, I’m glad it worked out for you.” Tess’s tone was clipped. “Grandma Rosa didn’t prove to be as lucky for me, unfortunately.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Jack was eager to explain. “I don’t understand what happened that day. What made you walk out like that during the show?”

“It’s a long story.” Tess pulled her dressing-gown cord tighter around her. She felt at a distinct disadvantage beside Jack in his sharp business suit. And she couldn’t stop thinking of the briefcase. He was probably taping this meeting so he’d have it on the record when she incriminated herself. She wished she were recording the meeting herself actually, in case she needed it in court.

“I have time,” Jack said easily.

“I wasn’t expecting any phone calls so I wasn’t prepared,” she said simply. She threw him an accusing look. “I
told
you not to call.”

“But I thought you were just panicking. It was a good idea, getting someone like me to ring in to kick the agony-aunt slot off. I just thought it would make better radio if you ad-libbed rather than use a rehearsed answer.”

Tess folded her arms. “So after a couple of days of thinking about whether you should buy the station, you’re now an expert in what makes good radio? Believe me, it’s not that easy. I’ve been there monthsand I still don’t have a clue.”

“I tried to find out what happened to you. After you ran off like that. Richard said he’d sort it, but then I came up against a stone wall with him. So I thought I’d find out for myself.”

So he didn’t know that Helene had sacked her, Tess realised. But what good would it do if she told him now? He would never take her side over a manager. Bosses never did. She shrugged.

“I’ve just told you. I panicked on-air, that’s all.” Let him sue her if he had to.

“But that’s no reason to
leave
,” he countered. “Someone did contact you to ask you to change your mind, I hope?”

Tess looked at him blankly.

“Richard said he’d get Helene Harper to come and talk to you about it. I thought the agony-aunt slot was great – except the part where you walked out, of course. It’s
exactly
the sort of thing I have in mind for when I revamp the station.”

Tess opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. He had no idea what had really been going on. Helene had wanted to get rid of her, she thought dully. She’d agreed with Ollie that she just didn’t have what it takes. They’d probably cooked up the agony-aunt slot for her, knowing she’d make a complete mess of it and give Helene the perfect excuse to fire her. And she had walked straight into their trap.

“So?” Jack was still waiting for an answer. “Helene said yesterday you were looking at other options?”

Tess thought quickly. She didn’t want to look like a complete loser.

“Actually, I’ve decided to concentrate on other things. I’m er … writing a book and I need to devote a lot more time to it if I’m ever going to get it finished.” As soon as the sentence left her mouth, she wished she could take it back.

“Really?” Jack’s eyes widened in admiration. “So that’s why you’re still in your dressing gown?” He looked her up and down. “I was wondering about that.”

“Yes, that’s it. I don’t feel I can write a word unless I have my lucky dressing gown on.” Tess gave a slightly hysterical laugh.

“So what’s it about – the book?” he asked.

What was it with all the questions? This guy should have been a journalist himself.

“It’s … it’s a self-help book … how to deal with difficult people.”

“Oh!” Jack looked distinctly underwhelmed. “Who’s publishing it?”

“I don’t have a publisher yet. But,” she had a flash of inspiration, “I have a meeting set up with an old college friend of mine. Chris Conroy?” She waited for name recognition to dawn on Jack. He looked at her blankly and she continued encouragingly, “Chris Conroy? Former foreign correspondent. Commentator on TV shows?”

“No, I can’t say I’ve heard of him. Not that that would mean anything, because I generally only watch movies or business programmes. Looks like I have a lot to learn about the media business,” he said cheerfully.

“Well, he’s, like, famous. And he’s promised to help me find a publisher or, like, an agent or something.”

“That’s great – if it’s what you want to do. But I’m disappointed you won’t be coming back to us.” He got off the stool and moved towards the living room. “Still, I’d like to thank you for helping me with my dilemma, and apologise for any trouble I caused. It wasn’t intended.” He reached into his briefcase and held out a parcel. “Peace offering?”

“Oh!” Tess slipped off the brown-paper wrapping to reveal a framed black-and-white caricature of her sitting in studio with headphones on and an
Agony Aunt of the Airwaves
banner behind her.

“I got it done because I thought you’d be staying on at Atlantic 1FM,” Jack said apologetically. “But I can see now it should have been a writer starving in a garret.” He looked around Tess’s tiny apartment. “Not much money in self-help books then?”

“Nor in local radio,” she reminded him. She tapped the glass frame. “Thank you for this. You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. I’m just sorry we weren’t able to persuade you to come back.”

Tess opened her mouth to speak. This was the time to tell him the truth, that there was no book and no big meeting with Chris Conroy. She could have her job back there and then. But then she remembered Helene in Ryan’s bar, the way she had sacked her without mercy. And Ollie and the way he’d made her life so difficult over the last few months. And Grandma Rosa suggesting that maybe it was time to move on if she was finding her situation so difficult. Maybe it
was
time to do something else – go somewhere she didn’t feel like a square peg in a round hole?

Jack closed the briefcase and hoisted its strap over one shoulder. He gave her a lopsided smile and Tess felt a powerful, magnetic pull towards him. For a second she felt as if she’d met him before somewhere, in another life even.