‘No,’ I said, as decisive as I have ever been. I slammed the laptop shut to punctuate my point.
‘Why not?’ Claude asked, propping her arse on the edge of my desk.
‘A thousand reasons,’ I replied – hardly my best effort, but I wasn’t hyperbolising. I was positive I could list atleasta thousand reasons why going on a reality show was a terrible idea.
‘Name one.’
‘Okay –bugs. Bugs the size of a Mini Cooper,’ I replied smugly.
‘Eh,’ she uttered with a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘They have mosquito nets for those.’
‘Okay, how about not subjecting myself to an array of indignities for no good reason?’
‘But thereisa good reason –multiplereasons, actually.’
I scrutinised my sister closely, noticing the faint blueish hue under her eyes. Like me, Claude had access to some of the best skincare products in the world. The dark circles were stress.
‘Tell me,’ I said, my self-indulgent fugue instantly lifting.
‘Well, on top of the winnings going to charity, it’s the photo… the one with Julian,’ she replied.
I sat back and swivelled my chair to face her dead on. ‘But I thought we handled that? Didn’t we replace the followers we lost?Tenfold.’
‘We did, but more than half bounced off within a few days.’
‘Oh. Are we in trouble?’
‘We’re nothaemorrhagingfollowers, no,’ she replied, ‘but…’ She looked over her shoulder and I tipped sideways to see what she was looking at. Maya and Ruby were obviously listening in. Caught out, they startled in surprise, then pretended to get on with something. Ruby even reached for a non-ringing phone.
‘But,’ Claude continued, turning back to me, ‘we could still use the publicity – build up engagement… reach a new follower base… At least say you’ll consider it.’
‘I’ll consider it,’ I lied.
No fucking way am I ever doing that. I’d rather eat mashed banana off the floor of the men’s loo at St Pancras.
She flashed me a grateful smile, and guilt piled on top of dread. I knew Claude and there was a strong chance she’d talk me into this. Well, if she was so keen, maybe she should go on the bloody sho?—
‘Ally?’ Ruby’s voice cut through my mental rant, and I lifted my head, giving her an inquisitive smile.
‘What’s up, Ruby-Doo?’ I asked. Another post-Aetheria affectation – giving the team stupid nicknames.
‘Er…’ She looked towards the doorway and I followed her gaze.
‘Fuck,’ I whispered when I saw who was standing there.
‘Right, Ruby, Maya, let’s step out for some lunch, shall we?’ said Claude with OTT enthusiasm.
Maya popped up, collecting her handbag from her bottom drawer, but Ruby gaped at Claude like a goldfish. ‘But it’s only 10.30,’ she said, clearly confused.
‘Earlylunch then – my treat,’ Claude replied, signalling for Ruby to hurry. She finally seemed to twig, jumping up from her chair and following Claude.
Claude patted Tommy’s arm as she passed. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world – telling meandTommy that she was happy to see him. Maya scurried into the entry, barely giving Tommy a glance, but Ruby took her time, openly ogling him. Claude must have filled them in earlier – possibly to explain why I was behaving so oddly – because once Ruby reached the entry, she looked back and gave me a silent chef’s kiss.
I glanced at Tommy, who was watching the others over his shoulder, seemingly bemused by their sudden exit. He absolutelywasa chef’s kiss of a man – especially in that crisp, white collared shirt and dark-wash jeans. But what the hell was he doing at Divorced Diva HQ?
He turned towards me, still lingering in the doorway. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi,’ I replied, sitting up straighter but remaining behind my desk – a safety barrier of sorts.
