‘That’s just a bonus.’ Heather waves away my words. ‘And payback for centuries of sexual objectification of the female form.’
‘So it’s your duty as a feminist to perv, is it?’
‘I’m going for my lunch,’ Jorge announces loudly, flouncing out of the office like he’s in need of a chromosomal top up of the Y variety.
‘What’s up with him?’ Heather huffs, folding her arms.
‘He just wants to get boss babe here in a confined space.’ My tone might be a touch salacious. Just for fun.
‘That’s not funny,’ Olivia replies with just a hint of censure inhertone.
‘You’re right. It’s not. But there’s no escaping the fact that the man is mourning what could have been. He’s totally still got the hots for you, but now his unrequited love has taken on a touch of the tragic.’
‘It will be tragic if Beckett finds out,’ Heather adds with a snort.
‘Beckett won’t care an ounce.’ Olivia’s delivery is careless as she slides her phone into the pocket of her pants.
‘It’s not like he’ll be threatened, true, but he still won’t be very pleased with the thought of one of your staff mooning after you.’
‘He doesn’t moon. Now back to the matter in hand. TheLust Islandguys.’
‘Look, they’re bringing a decent amount of publicity, and like it or not, they’ve certainly helped create a buzz. I’ve had to close the applications. More people want to attend than we have space for.’
‘Really?’ Her brow furrows. ‘Why? What’s so attractive about hanging out with a bunch of self-aggrandising bleached and buffed assholes?’
‘Harsh, boss babe, harsh. Besides,’ I add, ‘we don’t know if they bleach their bum holes.’
‘And I, for one, have no intention of finding out,’ sniggers Heather.
‘Don’t even.’ Olivia grimaces. In fact, she looks a little green around the gills. ‘How can anyone who signs up live under the scrutiny of constant filming be normal?’
‘The public doesn’t want them to be normal. They can get normal from the person sitting on the sofa next to them, picking their noses, farting, and worse.’
‘I didn’t know you were such a romantic,’ she deadpans.
I smile, a sort of closed-mouth deal, mainly to make sure my lips remain sealed. She married a man following a whirlwind romance, and though he’s pretty bloody gorgeous, he’s still a man. I give him another month. Everyone farts.
Except for the people on TV.
And only because that’s edited out from the around-the-clock filming.
‘Normal is overrated. Besides, who’s to say what’s normal in this tangled and chaotic glory that is the world.’
Heather’s response results in Olivia looking disconcerted.
‘I’m not denigrating anyone’s choices. I’m just saying I have concerns. But if the event is sold out... ’
‘We have a waiting list. And theEvening Newsis sending a features journalist and a photographer along. It’s a winning idea, I’m telling you.’
‘From a winning employee?’
‘Well, if there are any competitions—’
‘We’d probably tie,’ interjects Heather, her attention still on her laptop.
‘Ha, in your dreams, part-timer. But if you’re a good little cousin, I’ll let you carry my trophy. There is a trophy, right?’
‘Absolutely,’ Olivia drawls. ‘It’s the size and shape of a bottle of prosecco.’
