“Sorry!” I trill, swinging open the door.
One of the journalists looks at me sympathetically. “Having one of those days?”
“Oh yes,” I say, appreciating the smile of solidarity she gives me. “Having one of those days.”
When you’re not up for anything, awards ceremoniesreallydrag, but once that boring bit is all done with, the mingling afterward is a lot more fun. I decide to let my hair down a bit and take advantage of the free champagne and excellent company, making a beeline for anyone who might make a good profile piece. It’s been nice seeing friends in the industry—I’ve been able to catch up with the publicist of Isabella Blossom’s film, Rachael Walker, who told me that Isabella’s baby isdivineand she can’t wait until I’m able to come over to get that exclusive, and I also bump into Mae, who arranged the interview with Max Sjöberg.
“So that hot colleague of yours wasn’t interested in me, then?” she says after we’ve done our greeting of two kisses on the cheek. “I did give him my number but I haven’t heard anything.”
“I didn’t realize you’d given him your number,” I say, surprised he didn’t mention it.
“I was trying to be sexy and confident,” she admits with a giggle. “You know, by making the first move. Lot of good it did me.”
“Maybe he’s playing it cool,” I say, taking a swig of champagne. “He’s good at that.”
“Whatever, I like men to be forward. If they’re into me, I wantthem to let me know. Otherwise I’m not interested. I don’t have time for games.”
“I will cheers to that!” I exclaim heartily, clinking my glass against hers.
Later, I spot Shamari at a table nearby and head over to slide into the empty seat to her left, disturbing her conversation with a handsome man in his fifties.
“Thank god you came over,” she says in a low voice after the man excuses himself and leaves. “I can’t for the life of me remember who that person is. He was chatting like we were old friends!”
“He looks familiar. Is he a director?”
“Beats me.” She shrugs. “So, how’s your night been? How was your table?”
“I was right at the back, sitting on the same table as Jonathan Cliff fromExpression,” I inform her, rolling my eyes. “They always insist on lumping us journalists together.”
“The organizers are trying to keep you at arm’s length from the talent.” Shamari grins. “They don’t need any more tears than the awards already cause. Awards are so ridiculous—does anyone actually care? I find these ceremonies so dreary.”
“You’re only saying that because that sexy client of yours, Julian Newt, didn’t win in his newcomer category.”
“I’m impressed you remembered his name this time,” she chuckles. “And my pushing has got him on your radar, so I’m doing my job. Keep him in mind for an interview.”
“You know who I’ve got in mind for an interview,” I prompt hopefully.
“Dylan Knox did not return my phone call today,” she says. “But I’ll try him again tomorrow, so it’s not a lost cause yet. He can be tricky to reach, and now that you’ve put the idea in my head of him acting again, I have my own interest in getting through to him. Leave it with me and let me see what I can do.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I say, leaning back and letting out a long sigh.
She watches me carefully. “Long day?”
“It’s had its ups and downs.”
“I can imagine. I’m really sorry to hear about what’s going on withNarrative.It’s so sad that this is happening with so much print media now, and it happens so quickly, too. Do you know yet if you’re safe?”
“Safe?”
“From the redundancies. I heard there’s going to be at least two or three at the magazine. You haven’t heard anything about your job yet?”
I blink at her. “How… how do you know about redundancies atNarrative?”
She looks confused. “You know how quickly news like that spreads in this industry, Harper. Nothing is secret for that long. I heard it’s going to be this week. Anyway, we’re all keeping our fingers crossed at the agency that Cosmo won’t be an idiot and will keep your job safe and sound. Although, saying that, if you do find yourself at a loose end, let me know if you’d consider making the switch to the agency side. I could do with someone with your drive on my team.”
Her eyes flicker over my shoulder and she plasters a fake smile across her face, wiggling her fingers at someone behind me.
“Shit, I have to go,” she says through gritted teeth. “That producer over there is about to start a project that is perfect for Julian Newt. Shame I can’t stand her. I’ll call you tomorrow, Harper.”
