And then Ginger made her way down the steps holding her glass award.
People tried to grab her and congratulate her.
‘You must come and work for us, you know,’ said one guy in a dark suit.
‘No, we saw her first,’ said his pal.
‘She could turn our magazine around,’ said a woman in fuchsia.
‘I’m happy where I am, but thank you, thank you,’ said Ginger, smiling at everyone with that great warm smile that captivated people.
‘You and I need to talk,’ said Alice Jeter, grabbing her. ‘I have a wonderful idea if you want to go along with it. I know your writing as Girlfriend is very personal—’
Ginger blinked. ‘You knew that?’
‘Course I knew. It was written from the heart, all really moving, full of empathy. You can’t fake that. That’s why I didn’t think you’d want to be outed, so to speak. But you’re too good, Ginger, to hide behind a pseudonym. What do you think?’
Ginger breathed in carefully. Too much breathing in and she might pop out of her dress. She’d been sure the Girlfriend thing was something Alice had constructed to hide Ginger behind. Not this – she had never foreseen this.
‘I’d love that,’ she said on the exhale. ‘Scary, but I’d love it.’
Alice smiled. ‘See you Monday morning,’ she said.
Beaming, Ginger finally made it down to their table, where Zac had suddenly materialised along with several bottles of champagne
‘Got to toast the winning writer,’ he said, a dangerous glitter to his eyes.
In her heels, he was the only man apart from Will who was taller than her and he was a full two inches taller. In her bare feet, he’d be six inches taller and that dinner jacket was made for him. Some men wore suits as if they’d been forced into them at knifepoint, but Zac wore his as if he was born into it. He filled a glass and handed it to her, standing really close to her. He then picked up another glass.
‘For a proper toast,’ he murmured, ‘the tradition is that we wrap our hands around each other, to get closer.’
‘Oh,’ said Ginger. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Paula making big thumbs up signs in the background, nearly bouncing out of her bandage dress.
‘Like this,’ he said.
‘OK,’ said Ginger, on a buzz after both her win and her conversation with Alice.
Zac moved closer and she was overwhelmed with the scent of his cologne. It was something woody and expensive, like him. His hair was short and slicked back, and oh, those eyes could almost see into her soul. He linked her wrist with his and then he said, ‘drink’, and she did, the whole glass, straight down.
Ginger was not a big drinker and because she had very little to eat beforehand, it went straight to her head.
‘Congratulations,’ he said and he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Do you know how sexy you are?’ he said, following it up with: ‘Would you like to celebrate later? With me. Alone?’
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Will staring over at her, eyes boring into her.Blast you, Will, she thought.
‘I’d love that,’ Ginger said defiantly. Why not?
It was time to go. Ginger had partied, been congratulated and had far too much champagne. She was making one last dash for the loo, when suddenly, Will stood in front of her, handsome in his evening jacket.
‘Congratulations,’ he said, eyes roaming over her hopelessly overexcited face.
Ginger longed to throw herself into his arms, but she knew, just knew, that somewhere in the background, Carla was there, watching.
‘Thank you,’ she said, summoning up good cheer from somewhere. ‘Hope you’re having fun.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I keep watching you—’
‘Baby.’ Zac’s arm slid around her waist. He was quite drunk, she realised. ‘I’ve got your things: bag and award. Now let’s really party.’
