‘Oh, is that the time?’ I mutter, realising my meeting should have started a minute ago. I grab the coffee, my bag and laptop before heading to the stairs and taking a couple of flights up. I’m almost at the meeting room when my phone rings and I recognise the name flashing up as Jacob’s fencing coach. I silence the call when a text arrives a moment later.
Hi Lisa, my sister is about to buy a hamster from Pets R Us for her little girl’s birthday. Did you say you had some? She’s in the shop now so if you’ve got any left, can you let me know? Like now.
Chapter 4
Rose’s temporary replacement is called Zach Russo. He looks different in the flesh. When I did my homework (becauseobviouslyI did my homework), the profile picture on the US office’s ‘Leadership’ page showed a man who was dark-haired and handsome, with generous lips and high cheekbones. He gave the impression he’d been asked to cross his arms and smile by the photographer, in a bid to make him look relaxed. It had the opposite effect.
The picture I saw was obviously taken several years ago, because now his thick, wavy hair is infused with salty grey. Also, what was not previously evident is just how tall he is – six foot three at a guess – and, how can I put this? He’sbuff.Leo cringes when I use this word because he thinks I’m trying to sound ‘down with the kids’, but there isn’t a better description of his sturdy-but-lean torso, muscular shoulders and well-honed biceps.
Given he’s come direct from LA, I shouldn’t be surprised. I tend to go there once a year and you’ll never catchanyonein the US office scoffing Bacon Sizzler McCoys when they get the 3pm munchies. I suspect that, without the pre-flight spray tan and crash diet I feel compelled to go on before every visit, I’d be turned away at Customs.
In Zach Russo’s case, though his broad frame can almost certainly be attributed to genetics, it also suggests a dedication to working out that – in principle – I find unappealing. I tend to like men intellectual enough to have a squidge in their belly. Thejuxtaposition between Zach’s six-pack and the dad bod Brendan had during most of our marriage couldn’t be more pronounced. Nevertheless, physically, it’s impossible to look at him and not appreciate the view.
‘Lisa Darling,’ I say, as we shake hands. ‘Sorry to be late. I had an emergency to deal with.’
I don’t go into further detail, even though I have a spring in my step after finding a new mummy for the last of Alan’s babies – an eight-year-old girl whose goldfish died last week (of natural causes, not neglect. I did check).
‘Zach Russo,’ he replies, distracted by something on his phone.
‘Thanks for agreeing to meet before we get into anything more formal. I thought it would be beneficial given how much we’ll be seeing of each other. I had a very good relationship with Rose Riley, who you’re standing in for. It would be great if we could foster a similar level of co-operation.’
He’s still looking at the phone, but eventually tears his eyes away.
‘I agree.’
‘Great! So have you been to the UK before?’
‘Many times.’
‘Worked for MotionMax+ long?’
‘Two years.’
‘And before then?’
‘ABC.’
‘Ah,’ I reply, as if I didn’t already know this. I have, in fact, approached my research to Zach Russo’s background like a rookie detective trying to solve the clues to a murder. His credentials are impressive – confusingly so. He’s over-qualified for this job, which is at least one and possibly two steps down from the position he held in the US. Also, when I quietly askedmy opposite number over there about him, she was far from reassuring.
‘He has his fans but it’s not a universally held opinion,’ she’d said.
‘What made you decide to move this side of the Pond?’ I ask, noticing that his leg is tapping up and down impatiently. ‘We don’t get as much sun here as in LA. I hope someone’s warned you that—’
‘Sorry, I need to wrap this up by 9.30,’ he says.
This meeting was supposed to be for an hour. He’s looking at his watch now. It’s expensive, the sort of thing advertised in the pages of Sunday supplements, aimed at overpaid executives who once dreamt of being James Bond, but had to make do with a career in accountancy. ‘I read your email so shall we just cut to the chase?’
He’s clearly bored already and I haven’t even started.
‘That’s fine,’ I say curtly. ‘I’mbusy too.’
I can’t help feeling that this is very unlike any greeting I usually encountered at the American office, where they’re all open arms, brilliant white smiles and, ‘Heeey Lisa, how’s it hanging?’
‘As I said in my email, I thought it would be useful ahead of the meeting next week to bring you up to speed on those projects that are furthest along. One in particular –Our Girl In Milan– is ready to be green-lit. Rose was involved in the development all the way along and she was fully on board.’
His eyes pinch at the sides. ‘Yes. I read about that one.’
The monthly content planning meeting is when my department updates internal stakeholders on our current projects, so they can have their input. The dream scenario is that everyone around the table is happy, give or take a few suggestions, meaning we can see it all the way through from development to screen.
