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Carly held up a hand. “I suppose I should be flattered.”
“I told you, it’s not flattery.” Jenna paused. “Although yes, you should be. I only go this hard when I’m sure about someone.”
“Like Lauren?”
That gave Jenna genuine pause. She looked Carly up and down, her expression shifting from playful to assessing.
“How are you two getting on?”
After Friday night, Carly wanted to say it was hard work. But she knew that would get back to Lauren. She trusted Jenna with a lot, but discretion only went so far.
“Our shoot was… challenging.”
“Of course it was. You’re a total bloody control freak.” Jenna leaned against the desk. “I meant how are you getting on personally.”
Carly laughed at the bluntness. “It isn’t personal. It’s business. And on that score, I’m not convinced yet.”
Jenna studied her more closely. “Why don’t I buy that answer?”
Before Carly had to reply, Paige tried to shove her way through the double doors, which had been sticking all morning.
“I’m sorry,” Carly said, grateful for the reprieve. She jogged over to help. “I might have to cut this short.”
“No need.”
Jenna followed, taking Paige’s bag from her and steering her towards reception with a hand under her elbow. She pulled out a chair and urged Paige into it, then perched herself on the edge of the desk.
“Thanks,” Paige said, amused. She pulled a laptop from her bag and nudged Jenna over so she could set it down. “Now, before you watch this, don’t panic.”
Carly peered over Paige’s shoulder. Don’t panic had not improved her confidence.
Paige pressed play. Carly watched in silence. Lauren smiling too hard. Carly interrupting too quickly. Both of them talking over each other. Just as she remembered.
Then Paige skipped ahead to a moment Carly barely remembered.
Lauren stood off-centre, one foot planted on the mat, explaining knee alignment to Paige in a lower, steadier voice. No bright smile, no presenter tone: just clear, practical advice from someone who knew what she was talking about.
Carly had known since Friday that Lauren was capable. Seeing the contrast laid out on screen made the real problem harder to dodge.
They hadn’t filmed the wrong person. They’d filmed her the wrong way.
Paige paused the video. “This could work. It could be good.”
Carly kept her gaze on the frozen image of Lauren, caught mid-explanation. The mess came from everything layered on top: the charm, the nerves, the performance.
Lauren would need structure. Carly’s first instinct was to build it, despite all the reasons she shouldn’t. She didn’t want to be responsible for coaxing Lauren into confidence. She didn’t have the time, the patience, or the emotional bandwidth. But the roof was about to close the gym for a week, the relaunch needed momentum, and Lauren’s idea was still the only half-decent marketing plan currently on the table.
“We’ll try again,” she said finally.
Paige looked up. “Really?”
“Yes, but we do it differently this time. No scripts. No double act. We build the videos around what Lauren does naturally. Less presenter mode, more practical demonstration.”
Jenna made a small noise.
Carly pointed at her without looking. “Not a word.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
