‘I’m up to my eyeballs here with the Prince’s twenty-first birthday party. Realistically, I can’t fly anywhere until the end of the month.’
I said I wanted some sunshine, and Dubai is warmer than here, even if only just.
While I’m there, I could meet Aurelia Arlington, the only artist I manage in the Middle East. Her contract’s up next month and I need to negotiate and renew on her behalf.
‘I have a client from Abu Dhabi I need to meet. I could potentially fly there instead of bringing her here. We need to finalise the plan before the end of the month in order to source whatever we need, even if it’s just for the first concert, which is in…’ I open up the confirmation email from Diamond Records, but Chloe interjects before I locate it.
‘Sydney.’ Superiority taints her tone, like she can’t believe I had to check.
It’s okay for her, but I’m currently representing fourteen other artists, seven of whom are touring this year.
Using the biro she’s clutching, she sweeps her hair behind her ear in a quick, feline gesture. ‘Email me your schedule and my PA will make the arrangements.’
‘It’s a date.’ I can’t help poking the angry bear.
‘It most certainly isn’t,’ she snaps and hangs up without so much as a goodbye. Whatever. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.
ChapterThree
CHLOE
With Friday being a holy day in Dubai, Sunday is technically Monday, and by Tuesday, I’m ready for a few sneaky midweek drinks. If I get through today, I don’t doubt that feeling will only have intensified.
Jayden-smug-face-Cooper is due to arrive this afternoon.
It’s been over a week since our initial Zoom call. In between organising the most lavish twenty-first birthday any billionaire prince could dream of, I’ve been sourcing a magnitude of information to present to Mr Dirty Hands himself.
Personalising each concert won’t need half as much work as some of Ryan’s previous tours if Jayden signs off on my idea, but knowing him, he’ll block me every step of the way simply to goad me. He seems to get off on it.
‘Chloe.’ Ruby, my best friend-come-eccentric-office-manager, shouts across the room. London born and bred, she’s been with me for five years, arriving in this humid state almost a year to the day after me. Together we’ve been through the good, the bad and the ugly, of which there have been plenty.
Ruby’s the only one of my staff who would dare to shout at me. The rest scuttle towards my desk with hushed tones and apologetic expressions. My resting bitch face is my armour and my shield. Despite the open plan office, I deliberately segregate myself socially.
Business is business. Lines in this office blurred before when I foolishly dated my first office manager, and it almost cost me everything I ever worked for. I can count my friends on one hand, and that’s a statement I’m more than comfortable with.
Glancing up from my window-side desk, my eyes lock with Ruby’s huge blue ones. ‘It’s time,’ she mouths, scraping her trademark crimson talons through her sharply bobbed ebony hair. Everyone else keeps their eyes fixed forward, engrossed organising the six very different projects we simultaneously have on the go.
Ugh. Of the three million people who live in this crazy city, why do I have to be the one who has to drive to the airport to pick up my sister’s future brother-in-law?
I never expect anyone to pick me up from the airport. In fact, I positively discourage it.
Sasha warned me to make him feel welcome. If I had a dirham for every time she’s said that this week, I could retire. Although, I could probably retire anyway on the back of this twenty-first birthday. Party planning for the super-rich and royalty is a lucrative business. But then what would I do?
I live for the challenge. The next gig. The next event. Let’s be honest, it’s not as if I have much else going on in my life. My businessismy life. My palms rub my sternum as if to plug the hole in my chest.
Ruby strides towards me, her crimson patent heels clicking on the floor as she approaches.
She’s fully aware of my utter disdain for Jayden. ‘You ready to make a deal with the devil?’ Her voice drops low enough to be lost amongst the low office chatter.
My PA, Izzy, sits at the desk next to me, involved in a heated discussion with one of our regular suppliers. From what I can gather, the price per head has increased by twenty-five percent since the last time we used them.
I resist the urge to take the phone from her and give whoever’s on the other end of the line hell. Not because Izzy isn’t doing a stellar job, but because the satisfaction that follows when I resolve these types of issues gives me such a buzz.
Ruby shoots me a warning look to leave well alone.
Shoving my chair back with my backside, a sigh slips from my lips. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’
‘You’ve got a great pitch there. Knock the bastard dead with it.’ Ruby offers an encouraging wink.
