5.

The next morning was a flurry of talking catering options with an increasingly frazzled Liani, putting finishing touches on my columns, and sending emails to our list of two hundred and fifty invitees. Sia had a fair few contacts in her little black book, but finding the leftovers and entering them into a spreadsheet was up to Detective Browning. Liani had suggested starting with the celebrities’ websites, and I was shocked to see almost a third of them had contact details either for themselves or their manager. It was information that Kat would have instantly abused.

Once I’d drafted the perfect save-the-date email message and spent an hour refining it, I was ready to press send. Now I had to wait to see if I got any bites, especially from my ‘big fish’ Maxxy and her manager, a woman called Darlene Wright.

I walked into the office kitchen. It was empty, quiet; the perfect place to take a minute to call James.

‘Hey, I’m at work,’ I whispered down the line when he answered. ‘How are you? I feel like we haven’t spoken for ages.’

‘I know, stranger,’ he said. ‘I’m good … busy. How was the pirate ship yesterday? See any wooden legs?’

‘Er, not quite,’ I said, thinking of all the beautiful people aboard. ‘It was fun … mostly. Free food, free yacht ride, free lipsticks. I can’t complain, although some of the girls were unhappy the food didn’t contain “flecks of gold”.’

‘What? Douche alert,’ James said. ‘Was the whole event free? That’s awesome.’

‘It sounds fancy, but it was almost not worth it,’ I said. ‘I had to pretend I cared about lipstick for hours, it took up the entire afternoon, and now I’ve got so much work to catch up on. Liani mentioned something about a wellness event on Monday that she wants me to attend too. You should’ve seen the e-vite she forwarded me. How am I supposed to fit in writing as well?’

‘I think you’ll find a way to cope with all the pampering and free stuff,’ James said with a laugh.

I paused, realising I was bitching about first-world problems, just like Sia and Edwina had. ‘Crap. That’s strike one on my douche-o-meter. You better keep track for me.’

‘You got it, JB.’

I smiled. ‘Hey, so I rang because I wanted to see if you have any plans tonight? I know it’s last minute, but after your text yesterday I was thinking we could go to that new superhero movie?’

I turned to face the wall so Harrison, who’d wandered into the kitchen to heat up his lunch, couldn’t hear me. Not that it worked.

‘Oooh, is that loverboy?’ he cooed, letting out a long, low whistle. ‘Tell him I say hi.’

‘Loverboy?’ James chuckled. ‘Is that what you’re calling me?’

‘Among other things,’ I said, thankful he didn’t know what I’d really been saying — and accidentally emailing — about him. ‘So … movies? Superheroes? Popcorn tubs the size of your head? Yes?’

‘Sounds awesome, but me and the guys are going out. You can come if you want?’

‘That’s okay,’ I said, feeling a twinge of disappointment. ‘I should catch up on some launch planning anyway.’

‘Just chill tonight. You work too hard.’

‘Maybe … You do too.’

‘Yeah, I never thought I’d see the day,’ he said. ‘The only upside is Dad heard how many assessments and group projects I already have this year and has started taking the course more seriously. He still dislikes me doing it, but he no longer hates me doing it. That’s progress, right?’ He yawned. ‘I don’t know where my head is half the time … probably still on holidays. I even have to go to the library tomorrow, on the weekend!’

‘No way. You’re a student and you have to go to the library? Shocking!’ I said.

‘Righto, Miss Academic … Well, maybe you could come with? Show me how it’s done?’

‘Are you asking me on a library date?’ I teased. ‘That’s so rock’n’roll.’

‘It’s lame — I’ll cop that — but we could make out in a study pod. I’m just saying.’

I paused, my thoughts running over everything that had been plaguing my mind all week. The lingerie. The L-bomb. The V-plates. The self-inflicted pressure. ‘Intriguing. One more proviso and you have a deal.’

‘Chips, right? You want me to bring chips? They’re already on the list. So you heard what I said about the study pod?’

I lowered my voice. ‘I did.’

‘Good. Hey, we’re about to lay down a track so I better go. I’ll pick you up tomorrow about nine.’

‘Back it up … did you say “lay down a track”? That was kinda hot.’

‘Yeah, apparently I am incredibly hot and awesome, and have a cute butt. Some girl called JB keeps telling me that.’

‘She sounds smart, and also hot and awesome,’ I said. ‘Bye now … cute butt.’

I hung up, a grin plastered from ear to ear. I sighed with relief, calm at last about the state of my relationship. We didn’t need to rush anything, or prove anything, or do anything we didn’t want to. We were great just as we were.

As I turned to walk back to my desk, I heard Harrison slurping his soup. ‘Cute butt? Really?’

I wrinkled my nose. ‘Oh shut up.’

‘Josie, there you are!’ Liani’s voice sang out. ‘I just heard from Sia — she’s got a meeting for an upcoming fashion shoot, but she’s at home sick and I’m stuck on a conference call. Could you meet the visitors in the foyer and keep them company while I wrap up? Thank you!’

Liani rushed off without giving me the opportunity to ask her anything else.

‘Who does she mean?’ I asked Harrison. ‘Are they photographers?’

‘What you’re about to see will blow your mind,’ Harrison said. ‘I just hope you’ve brought your stilts and something to put your brain back together.’

I went to the foyer, sans stilts, to see what all the fuss was about. Harrison hadn’t been kidding. Within seconds my mind was blown, then reblown, then somehow blown again at the sight of the creature staring back at me. She was at least six feet tall, and that wasn’t including her stilettos. Her hair was long, strawberry-blonde and lush (although I noticed the split ends in her severe ponytail didn’t quite match the rest of her polished look) and she had tinted lashes, a slender build and flawless pale skin.

‘Hey, you’re young for a magazine director,’ she said, her eyes pausing on my worn-down sandals.

‘Um … sorry, what did you say?’ I stammered, trying to collect my thoughts. I’d been meaning to buy new clothes since Liani hired me, but my low salary often meant choosing between fashion and food.

‘Are you Sia? I’m Sophie, I’m here for my go-see.’

She looked at me like I was from a different planet. Which, based on our significant height difference and level of attractiveness, was a real possibility.

The lift door opened and another model, this one dark-haired and dressed in a tight T-shirt and distressed skinny jeans, glided across the foyer to join Sophie on the couch. Together, they were a sight: all gangly long legs, voluminous hair and oversized black folders no doubt containing shots of themselves looking even more stunning.

‘Hello, Sia, I am here to see you,’ the brunette beauty chimed in with a sharp French accent. ‘My agent told me it was urgent.’

I sat down in the chair opposite them, noting that they still towered over me in this position. ‘Hi, so I’m not Sia, I’m a writer at indi. In regards to this go-spree —’

‘It is go-see,’ interrupted the French model.

Sophie cleared her throat. ‘I’m in a bit of a rush, so do you know if Sia’s around or —’

‘Of course, sorry … Sia’s unwell, but we would still love to see your work and … um …’ I racked my brain for something else to say, but nothing came.

The other model started checking her phone.

‘My agent’s locked me into another casting this afternoon,’ Sophie continued. ‘If Sia’s not here then maybe I should go and —’

‘I know this is unorthodox, but it’s happening, I promise,’ I said.

I searched frantically for a topic of conversation, but the only thing of interest was the jar of lollies on the coffee table — and models didn’t eat lollies. My brain was frozen, so I decided to give small talk a miss and soak in the stillness. I counted the fine dusting of hairs on my arms as a distraction, but only made it to fifteen before I broke my vow of silence.

‘So … much on for the weekend?’ I attempted.

‘Work for me,’ Sophie offered, glancing at her watch.

The other model didn’t look up from scrolling through her text messages.

‘More modelling?’ I asked Sophie.

‘No, actually I’m starting a personal stylist company — you know, decluttering people’s wardrobes, helping them choose the right colours and outfits for their shapes and styles, going shopping with them … all that.’

‘Wow.’ I struggled to shop for myself, let alone help other people do it.

‘You learn a lot about fashion after modelling for ten years,’ Sophie said. ‘For example, with your skin, hair and eye colour, you should wear a more spring palette.’

‘Thanks, I’ll remember that.’

Suddenly the brunette squealed, causing me to jump in my seat. ‘E’s having a party tonight!’ she said to Sophie. ‘She’s just announced it. Are you going to go?’

Sophie shrugged. ‘Tonight? Bit last minute …’

‘Her parties are fabulous and you know it.’

‘Yeah, but she called her last one a soirée. Please.’

‘Maybe the nose job changed her?’ the brunette asked. ‘People don’t know how to handle life with a perfect face. It’s hard when you’re not used to it.’

I searched for a trace of sarcasm or humour in her voice, but there wasn’t any.

‘Not all of us can be born with a perfect nose crafted by the hand of God himself,’ joked Sophie, rolling her eyes.

‘The last shoot I did with her, she was yelling at people like she ran the place,’ the French model said. ‘It was horrible.’

‘Come on, I heard she got her heart stamped on pretty bad a year or so ago,’ Sophie said, obviously trying to soften the conversation. ‘It’s not a great excuse, but a bad break-up can change someone, for sure.’

‘Well, her career may be on fire, but Edwina’s no Rae Swanson. I do like her new nose though.’

I interrupted. ‘Are you guys talking about Edwina from Marilyn?’ Otherwise known as Big Smirk from the yacht.

‘Don’t tell me you’re going to her party too?’ Sophie asked.

‘No, I … I, ah, have something on tonight.’ Eating a plate of grated cheese for dinner while watching trashy television counted, right?

‘You know what, I can’t be bothered,’ Sophie said, making the French model gasp. ‘I’ve been pulling so many hours trying to get this business off the ground. I think I’ll chill with my sewing kit and a cup of tea.’

‘Sophie, it’s a Friday night and she’s getting a super-hot DJ from Ibiza to perform. You are so boring.’ The brunette jammed in her earphones.

‘Anyway … can I grab a lolly?’ Sophie asked, then caught the look of surprise on my face. ‘What?’

‘Ah, nothing,’ I said. I unwrapped a lolly of my own, much to the displeasure of the other model, who’d screwed up her nose.

‘You know,’ said Sophie, as she sucked on her lolly, ‘My agent got forwarded the strangest email from someone who works here — a girl called Josie Browning. Do you know her?’

Here we go again. This email was following me around the city like a bad smell.

‘Um, loosely,’ I stammered.

‘Well, tell her it was so …’ Pathetic? Childlike? Desperate? ‘Sweet,’ Sophie concluded.

‘Sweet? Really?’

She shrugged. ‘Yeah. She talked about feeling scared to say I love you, and it gave me goosebumps. It could have been from my own diary a few years back — well, a fair few years back. Those three words are huge, and it was refreshing to see someone taking them seriously.’

‘I’ll, ah, pass on the message.’

‘I have no doubt she’ll eventually tell this guy how she feels and they’ll be madly in love for forever and a day. Made me happy, and a little jealous.’

‘But you’re beautiful,’ I said, popping another lolly in my mouth. ‘Men must worship at your feet. I bet you have fifty guys telling you they love you just in one day!’

‘Fifty’s a slow day,’ Sophie cracked. ‘Look, I’m human. Don’t buy into the whole beauty-means-you’ll-get-everything-you-want myth. Those three words don’t mean a thing if they’re not coming from the right guy. If someone finds the right person, they should make sure they know it and never let them go.’

‘You’re a romantic, huh?’

She winked. ‘Only in secret.’

‘Ladies!’ Liani chimed behind us, almost causing me to choke on my lolly. ‘Sorry for the hold-up — that call took longer than expected. Now, what did I miss, Josie?’

Sophie shot me a wry smile.

‘Josie was just filling me in on a great idea she had for an article,’ Sophie fibbed, as I attempted to thank her telepathically for keeping her perfectly plump lips sealed. ‘It sounds fabulous — love, sex, virginity …’

‘Juicy!’ Liani told me. ‘I’ll talk with Mya, and you and I can flesh out the details later.’

‘Ah, great,’ I said. ‘I better get back to work. Good luck with the new business, Sophie. It sounds cool.’

‘Best of luck with … everything, Josie,’ she said, drawing the word out so I didn’t miss the point. ‘Don’t forget — spring colours, okay?’

I nodded, and left Liani to talk the models through the fashion-shoot brief. Harrison was right: I had been blown away by my close encounter with the modelling kind, but not for the superficial reasons he’d expected. Sophie’s comments about love had hit a nerve, especially the tender way she’d spoken about me and James. For a moment — just a quick one — I wasn’t ashamed of what I’d sent out into the universe.