‘I fear you’d do much worse,’ I clap back.
I’d like to say that having a close male friend like Andy and a close female friend like JJ means I get the best of both worlds, but JJ could make Samantha Jones blush. So I have my deep and meaningfuls with Andy and my skinfuls with JJ – usually when she drags me out on the pull with her, although let’s just say her arms are probably a lot stronger than mine.
We’re at Charliez, a super-hip London bar – the kind where they would probably throw me out if they overheard my saying phrases like ‘super-hip’, although JJ likely has enough street cred for the both of us, so I often find my name on guest lists they have no right to be on.
It’s dimly lit, boiling hot and packed full of people who look like they make more in one year than I’ll make… Hmm, I can probably stop that sentence there.
‘Fancy another cocktail?’ JJ asks, her gold bangles jangling in my ear as she waves over a waiter. ‘It is a business expense, after all.’
‘I’m not having a hangover so you can evade tax,’ I reply.
‘First of all, I don’t evade tax, I avoid tax,’ she corrects me. ‘And I’m sure you can handle a couple more.’
‘What can I get you?’ the waiter asks.
‘Two Porn Star Martinis,’ she replies. ‘And two Zombies. Thank you.’
‘Two each?’ I say, laughing in disbelief.
‘I’m basically your boss,’ she replies. ‘You have to do as I say.’
‘Erm, you’re my agent, and that’s not at all a boss-type role,’ I point out, even though I know she’s joking.
‘Then consider it a professional suggestion,’ she replies. ‘Living a little won’t hurt your cause, you know.’
I’m sure it won’t help either.
JJ is one of the most successful literary agents in the country. She mainly represents celebrity clientele, helping them secure their book deals to add another string to their bow, and then there’s me who writes celeb biographies, or ghostwrites the occasional autobiography, but I’m so tired of it. What I really want to be writing is fiction – romantic comedies – but even JJ is having trouble getting me any bites. I’m scared to even ask her tonight but, I suppose if I do, then this really is a business meeting, and the drinks can actually go on her tax return. Maybe. I hope she has a good accountant.
‘I take it you haven’t quite got my bidding war going then,’ I say, already knowing the answer.
‘That’s another reason I’m getting you two drinks,’ she replies.
‘That bad?’
She hesitates, which is always a terrible sign.
‘Listen, it’s not you, and it’s not your book – I love it, it’s so funny, and fresh, but…’ There’s always a but. She sighs. ‘It’s such a tough market right now, there are so many talented writers out there, so many brilliant books – so many people all trying to walk through the door at once. That’s why, you know, the VIP entrance works so well. If you’re already a celebrity, or an influencer, then you can jump the queue.’
‘Ahh,’ I say, the sarcasm in my voice building by the second. ‘Thank you, I’ll try that.’
JJ laughs.
‘I’m not saying you need to become Taylor Swift overnight,’ she replies. ‘But everything is easier when you’re a celebrity. To be honest, even being known, going viral or something, anything that gets you out there. Ooh, or dating a celebrity – I’ve got a couple of the lads fromWelcome to Singledomon my books – those reality dating show types will shag anything.’
‘Charming,’ I reply.
‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ she quickly adds. ‘I meant that a public romance, or even just a showmance, gets attention. It couldn’t hurt.’
I wait to reply until the waiter has placed our drinks down in front of us and walked out of earshot.
‘I think I’ll stick with the old-fashioned way,’ I say.
‘Of what, meeting men or getting published?’ she claps back with a smirk.
‘Both,’ I’m quick to reply. ‘Though I’m on a losing streak either way.’
‘You’re too critical,’ she points out. ‘That’s why you’re single. You’ll end up cashing in on that pity pact with Andy.’
