The Cinderella Reflex (6 page)

Yet for all Paulina wanted to know about them, Helene suddenly realised she knew pretty little about her. Apart from the fact that she was a PR supremo, whatever that meant. But if she was so important, maybe Helene should be making an effort to get to know her a bit better?

“Paulina, why don’t we meet up and we can go over this stuff in person?” she asked suddenly. “I’m almost finished that appraisal you wanted
.
”

“Sure. When?” Paulina sounded as perky as she had at seven a.m.

“How about later this morning?” Helene asked hopefully. The walls of her office were starting to close in on her.

“I’d have to re-schedule my other appointments.” Paulina seemed doubtful. “But it’s a good idea to meet up. Let me just check with my PA, Anita?”

Helene heard her calling her assistant and made a face into the phone. That’s what she should have said!
Let me check with my assistant. Maybe she can find a window for you ...

“Helene?” Paulina was back. “I can make eleven if that suits you? Shall I come around to the office?”

“God no!” Helene blurted out. That was the last thing she wanted. She’d love to suggest a swanky hotel, where their meeting could roll over into a long liquid lunch, but Richard had warned her to be frugal with expenses at the moment. She wrinkled her nose, trying to think of somewhere she could meet Paulina without running into anyone from work.

She remembered the new coffee shop she had stumbled into the other day. What was it called again? The Travel Cafe – that was what that guy Matt had said he was going to call it. It should be open by now – and it would show Paulina that Helene wasn’t being a spendthrift with company money. Paulina assured her she would find it and Helene put the phone down and sat back in her chair, her hand unconsciously rubbing the nape of her neck.

The headache that had been threatening all morning was in danger of developing into a real humdinger – the result of too much caffeine and fretting about work, Richard and life in general. Insomnia was wrecking her life, Helene thought wearily. Last night she’d fallen into an exhausted sleep only to wake as usual at four a.m., her mind racing over the implications of this new situation at work.

Where would she fit into the hierarchy if Atlantic 1 FM was sold? That was her main concern, really, and Richard had been of no help to her whatsoever. She’d hardly seen him since that night in her apartment in fact, because he was up to his eyes in whatever machinations were going on behind the scenes.

Helene pulled a mirror out of her desk drawer and scrutinised her features. At least the stress wasn’t showing in her face. Her strict pampering regime was standing her in good stead, she consoled herself. Her skin looked dewy, as it should, after all the serum and primer and sunscreen she’d lavished on it. The tired bags under her eyes were camouflaged under layers of concealer, foundation, blusher and bronzer and her hair was still gleaming after her expensive salon appointment yesterday.

Satisfied, Helene put away the mirror, swallowed two painkillers with the cold dregs of her coffee and settled down to finish her appraisal of the This Morning programme. Ninety minutes later she was putting the finishing touches to the report. Pleased with her work, she reached under her desk for her high heels, slipped on her charcoal jacket like a suit of armour, squared her shoulders and left the building.

A frisson of excitement shot through her as she realised she would soon be meeting Jack McCabe’s Representative on Earth. Tottering along the pavement, she plotted how she wanted the meeting to go. Mostly she needed to know more about Jack McCabe. What were his plans for the station? How long had Paulina known him? What were his likes and dislikes? She needed to fish out all this information, without appearing to be too nosy.

By the time she reached the coffee shop she felt fully prepared for Paulina. The little cafe had been transformed since Helene had been there last. The words ‘Travel Cafe’ were now painted boldly in blue and white above the door, and the windows, framed with blue and white gingham curtains, were covered with posters and postcards of far-away places.

When she pushed open the door, it no longer creaked and inside all the clutter had been cleared away to be replaced by polished pine tables, cosy looking old yellow lamps, huge world maps hanging in glass-fronted frames and shelves stuffed full of travel books. For a few seconds Helene just stood there, breathing in the atmosphere. Matt had managed to magically conjure up a sense of time being plentiful here – something to be enjoyed rather than endured.

For Helene, whose life was tormented with to-do lists – things to do for work, or before she was forty, or even before she
died
– it was intoxicating. It was busy too. There were customers lolling on sofas, deep in conversation over coffee or studying the wall maps with intense concentration. One couple was poring over an outsized atlas while another woman was sitting alone, engrossed in a book on the Far East, her mug of coffee forgotten. Watching her, it struck Helene that it was years since she had read a book that wasn’t related to work.

She took a table beside the window and checked her watch. Paulina was late. She glanced up as the door swung open but it was Matt, his hands full of colourful cake boxes. He smiled broadly when he saw her.

“Repeat business! We must be doing something right!” He came over and balanced his burden on the edge of her table. “I didn’t catch your name last time.”

“It’s Helene. Helene Harper.” She looked around at the transformed cafe. “This place looks fantastic. You’ve worked miracles to get it finished.”

“I know.” Matt looked around the cafe as if he couldn’t believe it either. “We’re so busy I’m worried we won’t be able to give everyone a really great service. Are you being looked after?”

“Not yet. But it’s fine. I’m waiting for someone. Business meeting.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t think we’d attract the business type. But it’s great. Hope it goes well for you.”

Helene watched as he loped off, stopping at nearly every table for a word with the customers as he brought his stock through to the back. There was a sense of cheerfulness about him that she found fascinating. It was probably all the travelling that had him chilled out, she decided.

Maybe it was something she should do. Her and Richard. The thought came out of nowhere and Helene’s pulse quickened at the prospect. If they went away, they would be free of all the strain of a covert affair. They would finally be free to go public with their relationship. Richard had always been adamant that their romance stayed a secret, but only, he said, because they worked together and he was her boss. But while that had been thrilling in the beginning, as the time went on it just made their relationship seem less than what it was.

She gave herself a mental shake. What was she thinking of? Richard was an alpha male – that’s what had attracted her to him in the first place. He wasn’t the type to just bum around the world, with no goals to reach and no achievements to celebrate! And neither was she. She was Helene Harper. Executive editor at Atlantic 1 FM. Atlantic 1 FM that might soon be bankrolled by a tycoon with the Midas touch. A tycoon whose Representative on Earth she was about to meet! Helene sat up straighter in her seat. It was time to change this challenge that had come into her life into an opportunity.

As if on cue the door swung open again and a tall, blonde woman stepped into the cafe. Helene knew straight away that it had to be Paulina. Everyone else in the cafe was lounging around in scruffy jeans, their feet on their backpacks. This woman was clutching an expensive briefcase and was dressed in designer gear – a caramel-coloured suit, navy silk shirt and, like Helene, wore killer heels. Her ash-blonde hair was poker straight, and a gold chain glistened against her throat. She looked mid-thirties, Helene reckoned. Forty if she was having Botox.

“Paulina?” Helene stood up, and the other woman crossed the room in a flurry, air-kissing Helene on both cheeks.

“And you must be Helene. It’s so good to meet you at last. It’s so difficult to get to know someone without seeing them face to face.” Paulina sat down in the chair opposite. “Sorry I’m late – and also for being a bit of a pain these last few days. But Jack has given me such a tight schedule I have no option but to work from six a.m. each morning!” She placed her phone on the table between them.

“It will bleep when it’s time for my next appointment.” She threw her eyes heavenwards at the sheer busyness of her life.

So your time is precious, Helene interpreted the business speak rapidly. She’d better get cracking if she was to find out all she needed to know.

A pleasant-faced waitress took their order – carrot cake and a latte for Paulina, black coffee for Helene. They chitchatted about what was in the news headlines for a bit and then Helene decided to go for it.

“So, Paulina. Have you ever worked with a radio station before?”

“No! But it’s
so
exciting. Neither has Jack, actually, so it’s a bit of a learning curve for both of us.”

Great, Helene thought. They didn’t have a clue what they were letting themselves in for. Maybe she could make herself indispensable.

“If I knew exactly what your end goal is I might be able to help,” she offered.

“Well, my focus on the project will be to help relaunch Atlantic 1 FM as a major player in the media market – re-brand it totally. That’s if Jack finally decides to buy in, of course. Which I think will depend on whether he gets the license to take it national. But if he does decide to go ahead, it will be a case of hitting the ground running. I know from working with him on other projects that once he makes up his mind, Jack doesn’t waste much time.”

The waitress returned with their order and Helene was momentarily distracted from her mission as she watched Paulina fork a huge piece of carrot cake into her mouth. Clearly the concept of size zero was not something that kept this woman awake at night.

“So how did you meet Jack?” she asked finally. She sat back, preparing to extract any useful information from the vague, non-committal answers Paulina was bound to give her. But to her astonishment, Paulina happily launched into the story of her life so far.

She explained how she had started out as a young gofer in a large PR organisation, but had decided pretty early on that the only way for an ambitious woman to avoid the glass ceiling was to set up on her own. After that she had been lucky, she said, and had been in the right place at the right time.

Right, Helene thought, keeping a fixed smile on her face. That was the mantra of every successful business person Helene had ever interviewed. She hadn’t believed any of them. The only way to get on, Helene believed, was to be ruthless yourself and to protect yourself from other ruthless people. It was that simple.

Still, she listened attentively as Paulina continued her story. Jack had been an early client of hers and, as his star had risen, he had brought Paulina along with him, using her for his own projects and also helpfully passing on her name to his many and varied contacts.

At this stage of her life, Paulina revealed, she was as successful as she wanted to be, really. She had enough money in the bank and enough smart investments (made, naturally, on the shrewd advice of Jack) that she could walk away from the business now if she wanted to. She had lost some money during the crash, everyone had. But she still had enough to be a lady of leisure.

“But why would I want that?” she asked, finishing her cake with relish. “I mean, I’d do this work for nothing if I had to!”

Helene smiled understandingly and slid a mushroom coloured paper file across the table.

“You wanted a profile of the Ollie Andrews’s show. I haven’t finished it but you’ll get the gist of what it’s all about from this.” Helene watched as Paulina opened the file and scanned through her report rapidly, her eyebrows rising quizzically as she read.

“He doesn’t seem to be doing so well, does he?” she murmured.

“Well, we’re taking steps to improve that,” Helene said quickly. “We have had a new producer working with Ollie but I am now going to be much more hands-on in overhauling the whole programme. We have a new agony aunt slot coming up which I think will be a massive success. And,” she paused. Time to mark herself down as something more than just a back-room person. “I myself am doing a Ten Years Younger feature. Reporting on all the new scientific methods women and men are using to keep themselves looking younger. Both those slots should attract advertising.”

“Right,” Paulina said absent-mindedly, still scanning the report. “Well, there’s no harm in going ahead with all that for now. But I have to say that if Jack does buy in he will be looking towards a complete shake-up. He will be looking for someone to take the station onto the national stage. Someone with the X factor, y’know? And so far, I am not sure if Ollie Andrews is that person. Are you?”

“Well, we’re working on Ollie,” Helene said quickly. If Ollie were to get the boot, then she would suffer the fallout as well because she had been the one who had brought him into Atlantic 1 FM in the first place. “So – what exactly do you mean by the X factor?” Helene hoped she didn’t sound sarcastic. But seriously? The X factor?

“I’m not sure,” Paulina said vaguely. “It’s more I know what I
don’t
want.”

“Male, female, young, old, serious, zany?” Helene prompted, trying to catch Paulina’s eye for clues.

But Paulina simply shrugged. “I really can’t say. But I’d know if I saw it – or in this case
heard
it. Let’s call it instinct.”

Helene tried to keep her face expressionless as Paulina ate the last crumbs of her cake. She couldn’t help feeling annoyed that Paulina could sit there and be so bloody casual about it all. There were people’s livelihoods at stake here.

“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter what I think because it’s Jack who will have the final say.”

“And does he make his decisions in the same way – on instinct?” Helene was finding it more and more difficult to sound neutral. To her mind, it was beyond bizarre that Jack and Paulina would make such important decisions on the basis of their own, very vague feelings. Where was their business plan, their strategy, their
lists
, for heaven’s sake?