I got that Marcus needed sponsors back on side, but if Dean thought the idea of five minutes of fame inHeatmagazine was going to get me to agree to his ridiculous charade, he was seriously mistaken.
‘Access all areas,’ said Dean. ‘A no-holds-barred, career-making interview.’
‘You’ve offered me all of that already,’ I countered.
‘Dean, seriously. Be reasonable. There’s no reason for Ava to get caught up in all of this,’ said Marcus, clearly using me as additional leverage for his own gain. At least, presumably that was why he was protesting on my behalf. ‘She might have a partner or something.’
I felt him looking at me. If only he knew how recently I could have vetoed Dean’s suggestion because Iwasin an actual couple.
‘Are you, Ava?’ said Dean. ‘With anyone?’
For four years, when anyone had asked me that question, I’d felt quite smug saying that yes I had a boyfriend and his name was Charlie and he worked in the senior leadership team at a secondary school in West London and that I thought he was probably ‘the one’. Now I could barely bring myself to say his name.
‘I’ve just broken up with someone, actually,’ I said dismissively, hoping to convey that I didn’t want to talk about it but also that it barely had an effect on me anyway.
Out of the corner of my eye, I was sure I could see Marcus react.
‘Good,’ said Dean.
‘Good?’
Exactly how was me being dumped by the love of my lifegood?
Also, I might not be in a relationship anymore, but nobody was evenconsideringthe ramifications for my article. My career. Surely it would be wrong of me to write a profile piece on someone I had a personal relationship with, however fake we knew it was? If theLuxeteam got wind of our ‘situation’, they’d probably pull the piece and I’d be back to using my savings to cover my rent.
Temporarily pulling me out of panic mode, my phone buzzed on the table and I snatched it up. Amanda Eddington was calling; for the love of God, it was like she had a sixth sense! I considered ignoring it, but also thought that if I had damage control to do, it would be best to face it now before any more incriminating photos surfaced online.
‘Sorry, I should take this,’ I said to Dean, getting up from the table.
I went out on to the balcony overlooking one of the courts to get some privacy, although there were still people milling about everywhere, players and their coaches and executives and big-shot managers. On the cobbled steps below, people were walking back and forth between courts, drinks in hand, shades on, enjoying the atmosphere. I wished life was that simple for me again, and thatI could be heading back to my hotel to type up my notes like I’d planned – suddenly, everything felt difficult in a way I hadn’t anticipated. Had Ruby unknowingly shown Amanda the photos, not realising that Marcus’s new love interest was none other than the Ava Whitfield she’d been emailing travel itineraries to?
‘Amanda!’ I said breezily, answering the call before I could talk myself out of it. ‘Great to hear from you. How can I help?’
‘I’ve seen the pictures of you and Marcus Taylor,’ said Amanda, getting directly to the point.
Fuck. ‘About those . . .’
‘You’re a dark horse, Ava,’ she said, producing a deep, gravelly laugh.
‘It’s not what you think,’ I said, desperately keen to convey that I hadn’t lost my mind and copped off with an interviewee I’d known for all of twenty-four hours.
‘It’s brilliant news for us, of course,’ said Amanda.
That was a weird thing to say.
‘Is it?’
‘Ava, everyone’s going to want a piece of you and your burgeoning relationship, but it’sLuxewho have got the exclusive. What could be more alluring than an intimate profile of British tennis’s most enigmatic star written by none other than his utterly adorable new girlfriend, who also happens to be a brilliant journalist? It’s genius! No wonder Zoe recommended you. She must have known about this, yes?’
‘Ummmm ... not exactly. Because there was – is – nothing for her to—’
‘And because I justknowwhat an amazing piece you’re going to produce, I’m bringing your publication date forward and giving you the lead story for the September issue!’
I swallowed hard. This was big – the September issue was their bestselling edition by a mile, and the most prestigious offering in any glossy magazine’s calendar.
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, my mind going fuzzy, because this was too much, it really was. I suddenly longed for the safety of my sofa and my pyjamas and Alison Hammond onThis Morning.
‘So sure that I’m giving you six pages instead of four and a cover line. I can’t wait to see what you come up with, Ava!’ trilled an over-excited Amanda.
