The Cinderella Reflex (28 page)

“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 his own 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 the main contender to win this ridiculous contest we’re all hanging around here waiting to hear the results of?”

Tess looked at Chris, startled. Chris was in for It’s My Show? But that couldn’t be true. He would have told her. At some time during the last few weeks, Chris would surely have told her. Wouldn’t he? She was surprised to see a secretive, stubborn look on his face.

“The penny 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 to grab Tess’s arm again, and started to propel her across the room.

“Stop it!” Tess jerked away and hoisted herself onto a barstool. But Chris merely tightened his grip on her arm. Suddenly Grandma Rosa slid down off her own chair, 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 spreadeagled 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, to her horror, he pushed her off impatiently. She swayed and desperately tried to steady herself. But there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop herself from falling. She landed awkwardly on top of Ollie. She could feel his whole body convulse beneath her and she realised he was shaking with drunken, high-pitched 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. 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 collapsed completely onto the floor, her legs splayed open and her hands clutching at his shirt in a vain effort to break her fall.

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

In the event, Gai Gordan Ryder was wrong. The photographs 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, spreadeagled 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 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?

Tess 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 a.m. 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. “O! 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 melee.” 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 1 FM has just been awarded a national license.” 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 1 FM 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?”

“Crystal,” a sneering voice came from behind them. Tess looked back to see Ollie had arrived. He looked dishevelled, hung-over and in the mood for a fight.

“Not now, Ollie!” Jack snapped and started to walk away.

“Er ... excuse me?” Sara called after him.

“
Yes?
” He turned back impatiently.

“So who’s got It’s My Show?” Sara beamed.

Jack glanced at Paulina who shook her head almost imperceptibly at him before announcing tersely. “Everyone will know by close of business today.”

Tess continued staring at her notebook. She didn’t want to look at Ollie who, from the sound of it, seemed to be throwing things around his desk. And she certainly didn’t want to look at Jack McCabe.

“Tess? Can I see you in Helene’s office, please? Now.” Jack’s voice cracked through the air like a command. Something inside Tess shifted at that. She was fed up being treated like a doormat! It was bad enough that there were embarrassing pictures of her splashed across the newspaper. If Jack McCabe thought she was going to meekly take a tongue-lashing from him and his lapdog, Paulina, over it then he was very much mistaken.

“Sure,” she said. “Lead the way.” It wasn’t as if anyone had
died
, she thought resentfully, snatching her notebook and biro off her desk.

Inside Helene’s office she sat opposite a stony-faced Jack. His eyes flickered towards Paulina. “I can handle this myself.”

“Oh?” For a moment, Paulina looked as if she was about to argue, but then she thought the better of it. As she swept past Tess, she threw her a look of intense dislike. Tess heard the door close with a tiny click. It was the signal she needed.

“Before you say anything,” she held Jack’s gaze across the desk, “I don’t appreciate being spoken to out there as if I were a two-year-old. What happened last night was an
accident.
You know – an incident that is outside of our control? Even you must have had at least one in your life.”

Jack drummed his fingers on the desk. “Were you drunk last night?”

“No, I wasn’t.” Tess folded her hands in her lap. “But if I was, what about it? It was a party.”

“It was a work function! You ended up on the floor on top of our most well-known presenter, for fuck’s sake! Which is now splashed across the newspapers. How do you think that looks for Atlantic 1 FM?”

“You’ll have to ask Paulina the answer to that one. She’s the PR goddess. I could tell you how it
feels
, though. Not that you’d be interested in anything that’s not directly related to your precious business. But it was a bit of a nightmare, actually.”

Jack sighed. “What happened?”

“What happened – which you would know already if you’d bothered to ask anyone who actually saw it – was that I was trying to help Ollie to get to his feet when I tripped and fell over. He and Chris had an altercation and I was trying to contain the situation. More fool me,” she added bitterly.

“Ah yes. Chris Conroy.” Jack shifted in his chair. “How long have you two been an item?”

Tess raised her eyebrows. “I thought this was a business meeting?”

“It’s a business question. It must have been difficult competing with him for It’s My Show.”

Tess flinched. So it was confirmed then. Chris had been in for the contest all along. How had she not spotted it? “I didn’t know he was in for the contest until last night,” she said slowly.

“Come on!” Jack raised his eyebrows. “Next you’ll be telling me you didn’t know he has a fiancée either!”

A fiancée? Tess looked at him stupidly. She searched his face, convinced he was making it up, that it was another of his weird mind games. Another test, this time to see how employees react under pressure, maybe? But the look in his eyes told her otherwise. What sort of idiot would she look like now if she admitted that she didn’t know that either? She took a deep breath. “Actually, I did know.”

“Really?” Jack sounded surprised. “Well, I have to say I’m disappointed, Tess. I didn’t think you were the type who would try to steal someone else’s boyfriend.”

“Chris is not a possession. Somebody doesn’t
own
him.” Tess was trying hard to cover up her shock, desperate to preserve the tiny bit of pride she had left.

Jack laughed. “The same old justifications. Richard Armstrong’s mistress undoubtedly trots that one out as well.” He stared into space for a few seconds. “Louisa has stood by that bastard and still he breaks her heart.” He looked at Tess with ill-disguised disgust. “If people would only think about others before they go all out for what they want.”