"You don't think it's too soon?"
She shook her head. "No, I don't. I think this is right for you. How was meeting the family?"
"Good. I've met all of them before except his parents and Callum, who's back the day before the retirement ball. They're a lot of fun. His dads asked me to look at the marketing for the winery they've just bought in the Niagara region, which will mean a trip out there. I don't want their business though just because I'm Jackson's girlfriend..."
"That's utter shit and you know it. Jackson's dad's a millionaire how many times over because he's running an extremely profitable business. You don't get that rich by employing people as favors to them. Yes, he may not ask any other marketing firms from proposals but he's hardly going to give you the contract unless he thought you were going to do the best possible job, is he? For fuck's sake, you didn't have an issue when I asked you to do the marketing for this place? By the way, I want a new campaign for Christmas so tell your divine creative team to start thinking," she sat back, stretching her foot into the lap of the technician. "I'm thinking of having two of the salons specialize in treatments specifically for men, so that might be something else to have them consider. Although Josh perhaps isn't the right person to head that up, given how he could do with more than a makeover."
Josh had most likely never stepped foot in a beauticians or a spa in his life, not even to buy vouchers for a girlfriend or his mum. He understood the term 'metrosexual' in a marketing capacity only and I suspected he thought manscaping was something men did on the moon. "Maybe you could educate him. His beard is rather unkempt at the moment and I do worry about receiving a letter from an animal charity claiming that the things living in it are not being properly cared for."
"Is he trying to be trendy by growing a beard? That's a step forward."
"I think he's just realized it's an excuse to not have to shave. There's certainly no beard grooming process going on. His girlfriend dumped him too, so he has lost loads of weight and I think he's started to go the gym. Maybe youshoulddo a makeover on him. You'd love that and it'd give him a boost, I think, although you'd have to be nice to him as I reckon he'd be scared at first," I said, feeling all kinds of enthusiasm about the idea.
"I'll come in your office tomorrow and organize it with him. This could be the start of a new venture."
We sat back while the technicians finished off our feet and I felt relief ebbing through me. I had been worried about what Sophie would say, as if she had doubts about it being too soon or about Jackson, she wouldn't have shied away from telling me.
"How's your PT?" I asked, having not heard about him or the orgasmic ability of his penis for several days now.
"It's over," she said. "He lacked creativity and once I'd come through his repertoire I was bored. I'm abstaining from sex for a couple of weeks. I think it'll do me good."
If I had been drinking I would have choked. "Sophie, I've known you since we were eighteen and I've never known you go less than two days without sleeping with someone!"
"Hush and remember that I've been married twice, both for long periods of time so I'm not as much of a slut as you made that sound," she said, seeming genuinely concerned.
"I'm sorry. I do remember that. But this is... different."
She brought up her foot and inspected the polish. "I see how happy you have been with Jackson and I think I'd like that again. I might start dating again and find out if there is anyone out there that I'm compatible with in more than just the bedroom."
"Do you want me to set you up with anyone?" I glanced at her and tried to hold back my laughter. "I hear Richard might be single soon?"
Sophie snorted. "That's funny. Can you imagine being set up on a blind date with that?"
"He'd be charming. Manners, conversation and he looks the part, except he's starting to recede. It's when you get to the fifth date you need to run. Fast." I glanced at my watch. "I'd better go. This client wanted to meet for dinner at Roast. Do I look presentable?"
She looked me up and down and nodded. "You'll do. You look like a businesswoman who's not had too stressful a day. Text me with how it goes. Where are you staying tonight or is that a stupid question?"
"Back at yours. Jackson's in Manchester until tomorrow evening at the office there. I know I can stay at his when he's not there, but I'm not officially moving in till after the ball. Are you home tonight?" I asked, unsure as to how far to believe her about the no sex for two weeks.
"I'm meeting two of the managers from the salons to discuss Christmas and this potential manscaping sideline so I'll be late but I am not hooking up with anyone. Honestly," she said, now convincing me.
"Okay. I actually believe you. Tell me again after the weekend. And if your vibrator isn't chargeable you need to upgrade else you'll blow your savings in batteries," I said, grabbing hold of my handbag and slipping now silky feet into my heels. "Might see you later but I won't wait up." I stooped to peck her cheek, a gesture that was uncommon but tonight I felt so utterly grateful for her.
The London evening was cool and damp, the bars busy as it was Thursday and Fridays didn't count as a no-go area for hangovers. The roast was an upmarket restaurant in the center of Borough Market and I'd often taken clients there, especially ones who had a more traditional brand with a potentially more mature target market.
I'd met with the firm's CEO the previous Monday, along with Josh and Alice, and we'd had a productive meeting where he and his team had asked a lot of questions around branding and image and then a breakdown of the costings. We'd then pitched a few ideas to him, which was the part we all enjoyed most, and he'd seemed positive, not mentioning any other marketing companies that he was in touch with so we were fairly confident we'd get the contract which would mean we'd have to increase our staff. Roger Davies had then contacted me yesterday and asked if he could finalize ideas over dinner. It wasn't something I could say no to, as this was potentially a huge contract for us and his business would throw us into the higher echelons of the sector.
"Vanessa," he said, standing to greet me and offering a hand, which I appreciated far more than a peck to the cheek. "This is my wife Linda. She was keen to meet you."
I shook her hand and asked the waiter for a glass of red wine, before starting the obligatory small talk around the weather and business and at one point, shoes. Roger stayed quiet on that one.
"We really liked the ideas you showed us on Monday," he said once our starters arrived. "And although none are the finished article we are confident that you'll be the best firm to use. You come highly recommended also."
I nodded, excitement and relief speeding through me like a bowling ball. This was a good omen: we'd done a couple of campaigns for two of their smaller rivals that had been very successful. I wanted to ask who had recommended us, but I held my tongue and hoped it would come out in conversation.
"I believe you're from Derbyshire originally?" Linda Davies said. She looked a kind, if a shrewd woman, conservatively dressed with her hair in a rather old-fashioned style.
"Yes, just near Bakewell, not too far from Chatsworth if you've ever been there. In fact, my great-grandfather used to be a gamekeeper for the Devonshire estate many years ago," I said, feeling that this was the sort of thing she'd be interested in.
