The Cinderella Reflex (29 page)

“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,” Tess said lamely.

“Indeed. I got top caterers in so it should be delicious. Enjoy …” Paulina turned back to Jack.

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 was with her, 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 Tess’s 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?” She 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. Rumour has it that 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!” she protested as the drink spilled down her dress.

“Sorry,” he said half-heartedly. “Is that him?”

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 a couple,” 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 arm around Tess’s waist and swivelled her around to face him again. “Let’s go over and say hello, shall we?” He caught her hand and moved forward, trying to pull her after him.

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

“Come
on
,Tess!” Chris said impatiently. He grabbed her hand again 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!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Chris tried to sidestep him, but Ollie moved with him, and put a restraining hand on his chest.

“That’s not true, Ollie.” Tess tried to mollify him. “Chris has been helping me with my submission, that’s all.”

Ollie swayed on his feet. “Helping
you
, Tess?” He started to laugh. “Helping himself, more like!”

“Take it easy, man.” Chris put one hand on Ollie’s shoulder to move him out of his way and reached back with his other to clutch Tess’s hand again. “C’mon, Tess – let’s go.”

But Ollie squared up to him, pushing him back hard. In normal circumstances there was no way Ollie could take on Chris, who was younger and fitter, and who wasn’t under the influence of six pints … and the rest. But Ollie seemed to think he was Superman tonight.

“Ollie,” Tess intervened again. “Don’t do this.”

He turned, pushing his face so close to Tess she could smell the whiskey fumes on his breath. “What sort of an idiot are you? Haven’t you heard your
boyfriend
is themain contender to win this ridiculous contest we’re all hanging around here waiting to hear the results of?”

Tess looked at him, startled. Chris was in for
It’s My Show
? But that couldn’t be true. At some time during the last few weeks, he would have told her. Wouldn’t he?

She glanced across at Chris and was surprised to see a secretive, stubborn look on his face. What was going on? She’d thought it was odd that he’d hardly been in touch with her since the night she’d had dinner with Jack. They’d been texting of course, but they hadn’t seen each other. Chris had said he was super busy at work and that had suited her as she was still confused about her feelings for him. She’d assumed he might be feeling the same way. But now she asked herself if Chris had had a different motive for staying away?

“The penny’s finally dropping, is it?” Ollie sneered.

Tess struggled to find her voice. “Chris. Is Ollie telling the truth?”

But Chris barely seemed to be listening to either of them now. He still had his eyes trained on Jack. He turned and tried to propel her across the room again.

“Stop it!” Tess jerked away.

But Chris merely tightened his grip on her arm.

Suddenly Grandma Rosa slid down off her stool, pulled a dangerous-looking pin out of her hat and jabbed it into Chris’s wrist.

“Step away, big man!”

“
Yeow!
” Chris jerked his hand away and swirled around to see what had happened. As he did so, he banged into Ollie who stumbled and lost his balance, toppling over into the crowd before landing with a thud on the floor.

“Ollie!” Tess went to help him to his feet. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the photographer who had snapped her and Sara earlier jostle his way through the crowd, beaming. He looked at Ollie spread-eagled on the ground and immediately adjusted his camera.

“There’s no need for that!” Tess snapped at him. She leaned over to help Ollie up.

“Ah here, I can’t afford this sort of publicity – I’m out of here!” Chris suddenly announced.

In his haste to escape he jostled against Tess, who was already slightly off balance as she tried to help Ollie to his feet. She grabbed at Chris’s arm to stop herself from falling but he pushed her off impatiently. She swayed and fell, landing awkwardly on top of Ollie. She could feel his whole body convulse beneath her and realised he was shaking with drunken laughter. While he seemed to find the situation hilarious, Tess was grimly aware that her dress was riding up around her thighs and her legs were tangled up in his like a contortionist’s. She moved to wrench her dress down, but the movement provoked Ollie into a fresh fit of mirth and, as his body rocked again beneath her, Tess fell off him onto the floor, her legs splayed open and her hands clutching at his shirt.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but as she heard the ominous sound of a camera shutter she opened them again and looked into the cold, ruthless eyes of Gai Gordan Ryder.

Snap! Snap! Snap!
He was angling his camera a dozen different ways, trying to get the best shot he could.

“Sorry about this, love,” he said with not a shred of remorse. “One of these will
definitely
make the papers tomorrow!”

As he turned to leave he bumped into a television cameraman who had rushed over to find out what all the commotion was about.

Gai Gordon turned back to Tess, some sympathy in his voice, “And it looks like you might make the television news, too!”

Chapter Twenty

In the event, Gai Gordan Ryder was wrong. The photos of Tess and Ollie didn’t make the television news. But that was scant consolation for Tess as she sat at her desk next morning, staring at the headline ‘
Duel to the Death for
It’s My Show
!’
Underneath there was a large picture of Tess, spread-eagled on top of Ollie Andrews, her black knickers clearly on view. Ollie was looking down her cleavage, a stupid smile on his drunken, red face.

Fuck Chris Conroy, Tess thought, with unexpected rage. If it hadn’t been for him, she wouldn’t have been wearing such a short low-cut dress in the first place. What kind of an idiot was she anyway, she wondered, taking style advice from someone who arrived at a party in combats?

She rubbed her eyes. She needed coffee. She had been awake most of the night, the debacle of the night before buzzing about in her head, making sleep impossible. By six she was in the shower and, knowing the papers would be delivered to the office first thing, she had come straight in to work, not even stopping for a takeaway coffee. Two hours later and she had read and re-read the newspaper report so many times she felt she could recite it off by heart.

The sound of high heels clicking down the corridor interrupted her reading and she looked up to see Sara arriving with two takeaway coffees.

“Is it in it? What’s it like? Let me see!” She dumped the coffees on Tess’s desk and looked over her shoulder at the front page of the
Killty Times
. “Omigod! What are you
like
?” She turned startled eyes towards Tess. “Jack is going to be so, like,
furious
!”

“Thanks,” Tess said drily.

“It’s true!” Sara shrugged. “I did try to distract that idiot photographer. And Rosa jostled his camera equipment and everything but none of it fazed him at all. He just kept on snapping.” She looked at the photo again and repeated in awestruck tones, “
Oh! My! God!
”

Tess took a grateful slug of the hot, strong coffee. “Oh My God, indeed. What happened after I left?”

“Ollie was poured into a taxi by Paulina. And your boyfriend – what’s his name, Chris? – he disappeared like a magician. He was making sure he wasn’t going to be associated with any trouble. Rosa said that’s not a good sign in a man.”

Tess sighed. She didn’t have to be Einstein to work out that Chris Conroy wasn’t going to be walking over hot coals for her any time soon. Maybe she’d had a lucky escape when Chris had dumped her all those years ago. She opened up her computer.

“Well, I guess we’d better do some work,” she said half-heartedly.

“Yeah,” Sara agreed, picking up her pen and doodling in her notebook.

But for the next hour neither of the women did a tap. Andrea had phoned in sick and there was no sign of Ollie. Eventually Sara went off for more coffees and muffins and on her return she engaged Tess in a detailed post-mortem of the night before. Had Tess seen Helene’s reaction when Richard arrived with his wife? Did she know that Richard’s wife was Jack’s sister? Was that why Richard hadn’t turned up at Helene’s birthday party?

Meanwhile Tess had a big question of her own. “So,” she asked finally, “who got the gig in the end?”

Sara laughed. “It wasn’t announced, after all that. As soon as Paulina Whatshername found out about
that
,” she gestured towards the picture of Tess and Ollie, “she whisked Jack out of there. Probably spent the night talking about damage limitation with him.”

“Hmm – I’d say she had more on her mind than damage limitation.” Tess pursed her lips.

Sara looked eager to pursue this line of conversation but they were interrupted by the arrival of Helene, looking pale but resolute.

“Jack is on his way in,” she announced, “and he is not a happy man. Last night’s announcement was ruined by the melée.” Her eyes flicked towards Tess.

“So, who won the contest?” Sara asked eagerly.

“No idea,” Helene responded, “but apparently it’s to be announced ‘imminently’. Whatever that means.”

She disappeared down the corridor and Tess tried again to concentrate on work. But her heart wasn’t in it. Her eyes kept on flicking back to the photograph, and her mind kept re-playing last night’s debacle.

She was snapped back to the present when Sara hissed, “They’re coming!”

Jack was striding down the corridor, pulling at his tie, his face tense. Paulina walked alongside him, clutching a clipboard, while Helene was left to scurry along behind, trying to keep up. Jack turned in to where they were sitting and sat down in Ollie’s chair.

“As you know the winner of
It’s My Show
was supposed to be announced last night,” he said without preamble. “I had also planned to confirm that Atlantic 1FM has just been awarded a national licence.” He paused while there was a collective intake of breath. “However,” he raised one hand to stem any questions, “all of that was ruined by what you will have seen reported in this morning’s newspapers.” His mouth tightened. “The competition was designed to drum up publicity for the station. Well, we got publicity all right – the worse kind possible. Key personnel getting drunk and disorderly was
not
the image we were going for.”

Tess stared at her notebook.

“A lot of people are depending on the success of this station,” Jack continued. “As it happens I am not one of them. I have other irons in the fire and this was always going to be a gamble for me – a personal project that I have always had reservations about. If I haven’t made a success of Atlantic 1FM within six months – with or without your help,” he stopped to look around the room, staring out anyone who had the nerve not to look away, “I will close the place down. Have I made myself clear?”