‘Please,’ he added.
‘Five minutes, then I have to go back to work,’ I agreed. ‘But not here. Let’s head outside.’ I made my way towards the exit, with Philip a few feet behind me.
We stepped out into the bustling streets. The noise of tourists and busy New Yorkers chatting on their phones and out for the day’s work and pleasure surrounded us. I continued walking, away from the Times Square madness, up a small street, turning to see Philip behind me. I kind of hoped he’d gotten lost in the chaos.
‘What is it then?’ I asked, finally able to hear myself think.
‘When you get home, back to Glasgow, after the app’s launched, I was thinking .?.?.’ He paused, a glint of excitement in his eye. ‘I was thinking you should work for me.’
I felt my jaw drop, utterly confused. ‘What?Why would I do that, Philip?’
‘At my company’s PR division. You could help plan events, do what you’re good at, and have a steady income so you wouldn’t be worrying about finances and—’
‘Philip, Ihavea job. I have my own company with Zola and Katy.’ I managed a laugh, utterly perplexed by his offer. ‘We have a great income coming in with this app about to launch, then who knows what’s next.’
Philip became worried all of a sudden, pacing the street. ‘But what if it all falls through? What if the app doesn’t do as well as you hoped? You need to be smart, and a permanent position at a company that’s thriving is maybe what you should consider. Be sensible, Ella!’
I couldn’t decide what bothered me more: his lack of trust in the app or his lack of confidence in me. Philip was only offering me work now that I was succeeding, as if he wanted me dependent on him. Before, when we were totally skint, I hinted at a possible collaboration for one of his events, but he ignored it. But now he suddenly wanted me to work with him, to work for him!
‘Why would the app not be successful?’ I challenged him. ‘You know nothing about the app or the people who work day and night on it, Philip. When I struggled before, you didn’t offer me work, but now that things are going well, you want me to pull back? Are you afraid of my success? Is that what it is?’ Suddenly, it all made sense. I used to rely on him and admire his business sense. Now I was finally managing on my own, he seemed to resent it.
‘You think I’m jealous?’ Philip snarled. ‘Of you?’ he added, as if nothing could be more absurd.
I was so lost for words. The wind was blowing behind me, and I was cold. I didn’t have time for this. I turned to walk away from him and this ridiculous conversation.
‘I’m not jealous of you, Ella,’ Philip called out.
I held my hand out, brushing off his words as I continued to trek back to the office.
‘I’m jealous of him!’ he said.
I turned back. Philip stood there looking beaten down, glued to the spot where I had left him.
‘I’m jealous of Jimmy fucking Link, OK? I’m jealous he gets to work with you every day. He gets to see you, laugh with you, debate with you even.’ He stepped closer towards me. ‘Look, I know I fucked us up, and I’ll regret that forever. But I miss you. I miss having you in my life, and if you ever need the work, I honestly believe you’d be a great asset to my company. I shouldn’t have left you that night. I should have appreciated you more.’ He breathed out a steady breath. ‘That was all I wanted to say. No malice, no bitterness. I just miss you.’
I felt the cool wind sweep past my face, and I wasn’t sure if that was making my eyes water or if it was all the things Philip had said.
I managed a slight nod. ‘I missed you too, Philip. For a while, it consumed me – how it felt, missing you. But, I promise, you’ll get over it. I definitely did.’ I turned back around, and this time I knew the tears that were falling were all on me.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Ella
It was the afternoon of the investor launch and I was packing up the last load of boxes from the office to take to the venue. I had lived and breathed every aspect of this night a million times over in my head, so much so that I felt confident contentment rest on my shoulders. I was excited to meet the investors and showcase Stars and Swipes to the American media and influencer scene.
The night would take place at the gorgeous Metropolitan Museum of Art, smack bang in the centre of New York. It was an exquisite venue, with that famous stone staircase leading up to the museum beyond, which was every fashion girl’s dream. I had booked a space inside the Met at the Charles Engelhard Court. It was an open courtyard-style gallery space with statues that rose from the floor. Tables would be placed between these. I had assembled a dress-up team to transform the glass-roofed space with red velvet curtains and lighting, and to create influencer and media walls for the perfect selfie stations. A stage would be set up in the courtyard, where Zola, Katy and I would talk to the crowd, introducing the app and everything it offered. I’d also hired a jazz singer who would weave between the tables, wooing everyone with classic love ballads. I had it all arranged, from timings to table settings, and every preparation was checked, double-checked and thoroughly rehearsed in my head, leaving absolutely no room for disruption.
I headed to the Met in a yellow cab, and as it pulled up, I noticed a familiar black sports car parked directly in front of us. I grinned, immediately recognising the registration plate – Jimmy. I paid the cab and shuffled up to its kerbside door, taking hold of my box of QR cards, which would enable easy Stars and Swipes downloads for the guests. As I stepped onto the street, I felt a hand on my back.
‘Let me get that for you,’ Jimmy said, taking hold of the box.
‘Did you miss me that much from this morning?’ I laughed, having only left him a few hours ago.
‘I always miss you, Ella. Every day, every minute.’ I felt his lips graze my cheek, making me blush. I knew if a Scottish guy said that to me, it would give me the immediate ick and my fanny would turn as dry as Mother Teresa’s, but there was just something about Jimmy, something about that confidence and honesty and accent, that was making me fall in love with all that soppy shit.
‘Same.’ I scrunched up my nose at him.
He laughed at my expression and shook his head, then we both turned to take in the grandeur of the Metropolitan Museum of Art before us. Although I had always wanted to visit the Met as a guest, I’d never imagined I’d be hosting an eventinside it. The iconic red banners hung from the classic limestone building, reflecting the sunlight and making the entire structure look like a palace set in the middle of Fifth Avenue.
