by Zoe May
‘Surely you’ve got enough?’ he asks.
‘Oh!’ He’s snapped me out of my bubble. I definitely have enough photos. I probably have at least a dozen really good pictures that would definitely work for a fictional dating profile. Not that an average profile even needs twelve photos.
‘I can tell photography’s your thing!’ Derek comments with a wink.
‘Haha, yep! Told you!’ I glance behind Derek at the street art of an apple tree. ‘Just one more shot. Pretend you’re picking an apple,’ I suggest.
‘Fine!’ Derek sighs as he strikes a silly girlish pose, kicking one foot back and pretending to reach for an apple.
Again, I giggle to myself as I take six or seven snaps. Eventually, I lower my camera.
‘Okay, Derek. That’s a wrap!’
‘Great, because it’s not easy being this pretty,’ he jokes.
I scroll though the pictures in the back of the cab on the way back to the office. Derek tries to get a look over my shoulder, but I won’t let him. I want him to see them once I’ve brightened them up on Photoshop and made a few tiny improvements, but they’re great. They’re so fun and warm, so quirky, so Derek. I can’t believe it. Despite the rocky start, I’ve done it! I’ve taken portrait shots that fit the brief perfectly for a dating site: they show the person’s personality, they make them look as physically good as possible and they don’t look too cold, fake or posed, like a magazine editorial. I can’t wait to get back to the office, edit the pictures and show them off to Derek. I don’t mean to blow my own trumpet, but I’m fairly sure he’s going to love them.
And I’m right. Derek is so impressed when I scroll through the edited images on my computer screen a few hours later.
‘Wow!’ He utters, coming over to my computer to take them in. ‘Great shots! Even I’d date me.’
I laugh.
‘Okay, not quite. I’m the kind of guy who punches above my beltline. But still, you’ve actually made me look mildly dateable. You can’t polish a turd, but you’ve had a damn good go.’
‘Stop it, Derek!’ I laugh some more.
‘No really, Polly. Jokes aside, these are great shots. You’re really talented. I suspected that already, but I can see it. You’ve actually made me look good! These are really fun pics. My wife is going to absolutely love them. She’ll want to frame them. Can you email them to me?’ he asks.
‘Of course.’ I turn back to my screen and open up an email. ‘And thanks, Derek. I’m so glad you like them,’ I comment, as I select a few pictures and add them to the email. I know I have to ask whether the trial has been a success. I strongly suspect it has, but there’s a small insecure part of me that is still worried that Derek will back off the idea and that all that will be left of our day will be a series of fun pictures stuck to his fridge door at home, or possibly honoured with a frame. I try to pluck up the courage to ask but I keep losing my nerve.
‘So, a new client – Amanda Bragnell, a vet from the Upper East Side, is coming in tomorrow. You can take a few photos of her,’ Derek suggests, as he sits back down at his desk.
‘Really?’ I turn to look at him wide eyed.
‘Yes.’ Derek’s face breaks into a smile. ‘Really. This is going to be a fantastic addition to our service. I’ll get Lionel booked in for next week as well. My only regret is that we didn’t start doing this sooner,’ Derek enthuses.
I laugh with relief. ‘I can’t wait to get started!’ I enthuse.
But I don’t just file the idea away until the following day, when I’m set to take pictures of Amanda Bragnell. Oh no, as the day goes on, I start wondering whether this could be something I could do on the side too, taking dating shots for regular daters, not just clients of To The Moon & Back. After all, not everyone wants to sign up to a dating agency, but most single people could probably benefit from some decent dating profile shots. Maybe it’s all the time I’ve spent around Derek, absorbing his entrepreneurial spirit, or maybe it’s the weekend I shared with the slutty self-starter Olly, or maybe it’s just me, but I begin to wonder whether I could combine my background working in a dating agency with my pretty respectable degree and offer a legit-sounding dating shots photography service. I could start my own business, setting up a nice website using some of the money from Alicia. I decide to walk part of the way home, crossing Brooklyn Bridge, and as I do so, I imagine what my website would look like. I start picturing myself networking at dating events, mingling on behalf of my own business and To the Moon & Back. And the more I think about it, the more perfect the idea seems. I could finally be a portrait photographer, like I’ve always dreamed, and maybe I wouldn’t be photographing the leading artists and actors and celebrities of my generation, but I’d be meeting interesting people from all walks of life.
As I’m thinking this, my phone buzzes. A text from ‘Ignore’ – formally known as Olly Corrigan.
Ignore: Hey Polly, What’s happened? Are you okay? Please text back x
I hit delete and stride across the bridge with a newfound sense of purpose in my step.
Chapter 27
You’d think it might be difficult to create a website for a business that only just popped into your head, but it’s surprisingly easy. I’ve spent every evening since Monday working on my new project. I’ve spoken to friends about it, testing the idea out on them to make sure I’ve not gone completely crazy, but they all thought it was great. I’ve had a look at local competitors; there are a few but their photos are a bit naff and I’m pretty sure I can do better. I’ve browsed a ton of portrait photography websites to see what I like about them and what I dislike. I even made a list. I did the same for dating business websites, adding to the list of likes and dislikes. Eventually, I studied my lists and started trying to envision a website that would not only sell my services as a professional photographer but would also appeal to people who are single and keen to find love. Then I created a website using one of those sites that enables you to tweak templates. It was a bit fiddly at first and it wasn’t the flashiest site imaginable, but after a while, I managed to get it close to how I wanted it.
I uploaded a few pictures of Derek, a couple of portrait shots of obliging friends from my university days who said they didn’t mind me using them. Finally, I added the images from my shoot with Amanda Bragnell – the vet who’s recently signed up to To the Moon & Back. We had our shoot the other day. She’s a slim, wholesome-looking blonde and I took some gorgeous photos of her in Central Park. Unlike Derek, she didn’t look like a creepy dude on the bench swamped by pigeons. She was completely at ease and even stopped to pet someone’s dog. I snapped away, capturing her affinity with animals, reflected in her profession as a vet. I managed to get some lovely pictures that really made her shine. It was such a great shoot. Amanda loved the photos. She said she’s been single for seven years and I think she’s been out of the dating game so long that she stopped believing she was pretty. It was good to present her with some images which showed that wasn’t the case. She even offered to give me a client testimonial for my site, which I ended up telling her about.
Once I uploaded the pictures, I wrote some biography text, and tried to sell myself as much as possible while also sounding modest and approachable. I even got Gabe to check it over from a HR point of view to make sure I sounded professional, and then without further ado, I clicked publish. With a twinge of anticipation, I watched the site’s stats, waiting with bated breath to see my first visitors arrive. I waited for twenty minutes and I didn’t get a single visitor apart from myself – not even a bot – so I called it a night and went to bed. I expected I’d wake up to more activity, after all, I’d clicked publish at half past midnight and who browses portrait photography websites at that time? Surely by lunch time the following day, I’d have some visitors. But no. Nothing. Despite me integrating some SEO key words into the template. Hmmpph. That evening, I decided to set up an Instagram account with some of the pictures and the link to the website in the bio details. I followed a
ton of dating accounts, and the people who followed those dating accounts (most likely singletons and hopefully potential clients) and then I set about liking posts, commenting, and generally engaging with people, until I got some followers and people started to engage with my feed. By 1.30 a.m. (I got a bit carried away), my Instagram account had 32 followers, my photos had a collective 67 likes (not exactly smashing it but a start) and my site had had nine hits! It was working.
It’s now Friday night and I’m still Instagramming. I know I should probably be out socialising but I’ve just somehow become a bit obsessed with this project. It’s invigorating. It’s like suddenly all the pieces have come together, as though everything that’s happened to me over the past few months has fallen into place to create a brilliant opportunity. The stars have aligned and I’m finally going to have my own little business. I sit on my bed and gaze for a moment at the Mario Testino poster I stuck on the wall as a reminder not to give up on my photography dreams; it feels like it’s actually helped and I might be finally getting somewhere. My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Derek. I raise an eyebrow. Derek and I are friendly but not exactly text-each-other-at-10.35-on-a-Friday-night friendly. I open the message.
Derek: Hi Polly, quick message. Amanda asked me to give you the number of her friend, Becky. She’s not interested in using the agency but wants some pics for dating and personal/professional use. Can you help? Maybe discuss it with her. I’ll send over her contact details. Have a good weekend. See you Monday.
Without realising it, a squeal escapes my lips. A moment later, Gabe pops his head around the door.
‘What’s up?’ he asks. Unlike Friday nights for the past few years, he’s wearing pyjamas instead of a frock and he’s at home instead of belting out Eighties pop anthems at The Eagle. In fact, he’s been sitting in his bedroom strumming along to his guitar and working on a new song. The sound’s been trickling through the bedroom wall for the past week. It’s been nice. I’ve heard it develop from a few notes, to a melody, to a melody woven into a chorus, with a couple of verses added in. I can’t quite make out all the lyrics but from what I can gather it’s inspired by his love for Adam and it’s really good. I’ve even found myself humming it in the office. It’s catchy and it’s so good to hear Gabe playing his own music again.
‘Guess what?!’
‘What?’ Gabe comes over and sits on my bed.
‘I think I may have just got my first paying client for Polly’s Pics!’ I gush. Oh yeah, I decided to call the business ‘Polly’s Pics’. It’s a bit silly but it’s catchy and simple, and it has that personal touch. After all, they are pics and they are taken by me.
‘Seriously?’ Gabe’s face lights up.
‘Yeah! A friend of the woman whose photos I took the other day,’ I tell him.
‘That’s amazing, Polly!’ Gabe grins and pulls me into a hug. I squeeze him back.
‘I know! I can’t believe it! It’s so soon!’
‘You must have tapped into a need. I bet this is going to be huge!’ Gabe says.
I shrug. ‘I don’t know about huge, but a bit of money on the side would definitely not go amiss!’
‘For sure.’ Gabe glances at one of the magazines on my bedside table where I’ve circled a review of a new restaurant in Chelsea called Per Se. It’s a chic French bistro with two Michelin stars and critics across the board have been singing its praises. ‘Maybe we could go there?’ Gabe suggests, gesturing at the article.
‘Ha! Maybe!’ I laugh, feeling a little bit embarrassed. My weird obsession with top restaurants is something I indulge in away from prying eyes. I have a stack of magazines by my bed with all the best restaurant reviews bookmarked with post-it notes. It’s not exactly normal. Just like it’s not exactly normal to circle reviews of restaurants you could never afford, but Gabe’s right. Maybe – just maybe – I might get to be able to experience such places if my business takes off.
‘I’m so happy for you,’ Gabe says in a serious tone, his eyes twinkling, and I can tell he really means it. It may just be one client but it’s a start.
‘Thanks Gabe,’ I reply. I’m just about to ask him about his new song when my phone buzzes again. I quickly check it, expecting it might be another message from Derek about the client, but it’s not. It’s from someone else entirely. Someone I’ve been ignoring all week. Actually, ignoring is too strong a word, I’ve just been too busy to register this person’s existence.
Ignore: Hey Polly. Not sure what’s going on. You haven’t replied to my messages all week. I’ve tried to just let it go but I can’t. We had such a good time at the weekend and I really thought it was going somewhere. Never in a million years did I think you’d end up ghosting me. I’ve had a think and I’m pretty sure something else is going on here. I know Derek’s not my biggest fan. Has he said something to you? Please talk to me and let’s discuss this. I’m thinking about making some big changes, let me explain. Olly. X
‘Urghh…’ I groan.
‘Who was it?’ Gabe asks.
‘Oh nothing. Just work stuff,’ I lie. I can’t be bothered to even have a conversation about Olly Corrigan right now.
‘Oh okay,’ Gabe demurs, although he looks a little perplexed.
‘So—’ I drop my phone onto the covers ‘—isn’t it about time you played me your new song?’
Chapter 28
‘I don’t know what’s going on in the city at the moment, but there seems to be a huge number of single people who’ve suddenly decided they’re desperate to find love. We’re inundated.’ Derek sighs, as he hits send on an email.
‘Wasn’t that the idea of the party?’ I remind him as I log out of Match and close my browser. ‘Get some new business? Raise the profile of the agency.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Derek replies. ‘But I didn’t expect this many enquiries!’
Derek’s phone has been ringing all morning with calls from potential clients, but he can hardly complain. That’s exactly what he wanted.
‘What else is up, Derek? Is your wallet too small for your fifties too?’ I laugh as I get up from my desk and pull on my coat. I managed to arrange the photoshoot with Amanda’s friend, Becky, for today. We got chatting by text over the weekend and figured out that we work only a couple of blocks away from each other. Becky lives over an hour away and commutes in, so we decided it would be easier to meet up on a weekday. She had evening plans all week, so we arranged to meet during our lunch break. Derek’s been nice about it and let me have a long lunch as long as I stay a bit later this evening. I think he’s just really happy to see my business idea take off and as a fellow entrepreneur, he wants to support me as much as possible.
‘What the…’ Derek mutters as he frowns at a new email that’s popped up on his screen.
‘I’m sorry, Derek, but I have no sympathy. You can’t complain that you don’t have enough clients and then whinge when you get them!’ I say as I wind my scarf around my neck, before reaching for my camera bag.
‘No, it’s not that,’ Derek says ominously. ‘It’s Olly.’
‘Olly?!’ I echo. ‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s quitting,’ Derek utters, while scanning at a document on his screen.
‘What do you mean “quitting”?’ I walk closer to his desk to get a better look.
‘He’s closing up shop,’ Derek says with a tone of disbelief. ‘He’s closing Elite Love Match.’
‘Seriously?’ I balk.
‘Yeah, look.’ Derek moves his chair to the side to give me a better look of his screen. I take in the press release.
Elite Love Match, one of New York’s leading dating agencies, has today announced that it is closing.
The agency was founded by entrepreneur and PR specialist, Olly Corrigan. Elite Love Match has experienced considerable success, going from a small start-up to a well-respected agency. It has been the proud recipient of the ‘Dating Agency of the Year’ award at the New York Dating Awards in recognition of its impressive track record
in creating loving relationships, marriages and thriving families.
However, a business that specialises in matters of the heart must come from the heart and unfortunately, due to personal reasons, founder Olly Corrigan is no longer able to give the business the full attention it requires. He will now be focusing his full efforts on his PR company Impact PR, which operates from the same premises as Elite Love Match.
Elite Love Match will continue to fulfil obligations to its current clients, providing the high level of service they signed up for and have experienced so far. However, the business will no longer be taking on any new clients.
Olly Corrigan said: ‘I started Elite Love Match with the goal of bringing New Yorkers together and I’m proud to say that ambition has been achieved. It’s been incredibly rewarding to have helped clients enter into strong loving relationships and to have witnessed marriages between people who, without Elite Love Match, may never have met.
‘Running a dating agency is a uniquely fulfilling endeavour and one which requires a strong and whole-hearted sense of leadership. Due to changes in my personal circumstances, I am no longer able to give the agency the love and attention it deserves and will be dedicating my business interests towards my company, Impact PR. I’d like to thank everyone who has supported Elite Love Match along the way. It’s been a pleasure.’
‘Oh my God,’ I utter. ‘What the hell?’
‘I know. I can’t believe it!’ Derek shakes his head in a state of complete shock.
‘What are these “personal circumstances”?’ I ask, although I’m really just thinking aloud. Derek’s hardly going to know about Olly’s private life.
‘No idea. Have you spoken to him lately?’ Derek asks, giving me a curious look. I know he’s not Olly’s biggest fan, but he looks concerned, almost worried, about Olly’s well-being. And his worry is making me worry too.