The Cinderella Reflex

by Buchanan, Johanna

  Just like Tess’s Cinema Self would. But what? What would Cinema Tess do? She wracked her brain as to what this new heroic version of herself, who Chris said lay just under the surface of her normal personality, might do in this situation. But nothing came. She felt as if her head were full of cotton wool. Her mouth felt parched. She had no Plan B. Why hadn’t Chris given her a Plan B?

  Jack was looking at her speculatively.

  “Why don’t you put in for It’s My Show?” He pulled a sheet of paper out of his briefcase. “This is the press release. We think it’s really going to pique the interest of the public.”

  “Jack! We’re already late for our meeting,” Paulina said at the same time as Tess’s phone started to ring. She pulled it out of her bag, and stepped out of the lift.

  “Just give me one more minute can you, Jack?”

  “Here, you’ve forgotten something,” he replied.

  “Yes, yes, the press release. I know.” Tess pressed the reject button on her phone to silence it and turned to take the sheet of paper. Jack was hunkered down in the lift, picking something off the floor. Something white, crumpled and very, very familiar. The elevator speech! She must have dropped it when she’d pulled the phone out of her bag. Don’t let him read it, don’t let him read it, don’t let him read it, Tess begged the Universe as she darted back into the lift to retrieve the piece of paper.

  But Jack had already spotted the heading on the top of the page.

  “It’s an elevator speech!” He looked at Tess admiringly. “I’ve heard about them. Hey! Are you trying to pitch your book for a film?” He stepped out of the lift and looked up and down the corridor as if he were expecting a Hollywood mogul to miraculously appear. Paulina gave him a pitying look.

  “No, I’m not.” Tess snatched the paper before he could read any more.

  “Nice to meet you, Tess.” Paulina placed a firm hand on Jack’s shoulder and steered him towards a nearby conference room.

  He turned back and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t forget. Put yourself in for the competition.”

  Tess watched Paulina propel him into the room and bang the door in her face. She slumped against the wall. She couldn’t think of one thing she could do now to retrieve the situation. Cinema Tess didn’t seem to be any more resourceful than Normal Tess. The sound of her phone ringing again jolted her out of her misery. Tess glanced at the caller ID. Chris. She pressed the reply button reluctantly.

  “Hello?” she whispered.

  “So how did it go, babe?”

  “Badly. They didn’t buy it. Some woman called Paulina said the agony aunt slot is on hold until after the relaunch. Jack said I should go in for It’s My Show instead.”

  “Right. That would be a pretty big jump for you though. From, like, nothing to hosting your own show? The whole point of getting the agony aunt gig back was so you could use it as a springboard.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t,” Tess reminded him.

  “Right. Well, what about your old job back as Ollie’s producer? Did you pitch for that?”

  “No.” Tess was surprised. “We didn’t discuss that.”

  “So what was your Plan B then?”

  “I was just thinking about that myself. How come you didn’t give me a Plan B?”

  Chris sighed heavily. “I can’t do everything for you, Tess. You have to put some effort in yourself as well.”

  There was a silence in which Tess wondered briefly if he had hung up on her.

  Then he said sharply, “Look, maybe it’s not too late. Where’s Jack now?”

  Tess looked at the conference room door. “He’s in a meeting with that Paulina woman and I don’t know who else.”

  “So wait around and give him another elevator speech on the way down,” Chris ordered. “Take a ‘you need me’ angle.”

  “No!” Her response came out almost in a shout, surprising even herself. But she was done with elevator speeches for today, and possibly for the rest of her life. She was going to find a decent coffee shop and buy herself a giant slice of chocolate cake.

  “Okay, okay,” Chris soothed. “Why don’t we go for dinner tonight and we’ll work on a proper Plan B then?”

  “Fine,” Tess said half-heartedly and hung up. She couldn’t think of anything she’d like less. She pressed the button for the lift but the sound of a commotion in the corridor distracted her. The conference room door was suddenly wrenched open and Ollie Andrews came storming through it, his face like thunder.

  Tess darted backwards into an alcove beside the lift. She didn’t want Ollie to see her. God forbid that he, or anyone from Atlantic 1 FM, should ever, ever hear about her elevator speech! She waited, flattening her back against the wall until she heard Ollie step into the lift and the doors close behind him.

  She ventured cautiously out of the alcove. Jack and Paulina were staring at the closed doors of the lift, looking nonplussed.

  “Is he normally this volatile, I wonder?” Jack asked.

  “Who knows?” Paulina sounded irritated. “What I do know is that the launch party is in less than a month and we don’t exactly have time for celebrity histrionics! All I suggested was that maybe he should consider getting an Extreme Makeover ... I didn’t think he was going to explode.” She broke off as she noticed Tess. “Oh! You’re still here.”

  “Tess!” Jack smiled at her. “I’m afraid Ollie didn’t take what we had to say very well, at all. We obviously have a lot to learn about dealing with the artistic ego. Have you any tips on what makes him tick?”

  Tess shrugged. It was clear Ollie had just treated them to one of his full-on temper tantrums. “The only predictable thing I found about Ollie was his unpredictability – he’s a law onto himself I’m afraid.”

  “I think we need to consider this really carefully.” Paulina spoke as if Tess wasn’t there. “It’s a sensitive issue, taking a show away from someone like Ollie. He has a listenership who won’t like it if they think we’re being unfair to him. Plus he may go to the papers making all sorts of claims about us. We can’t just dump people because we decide their face doesn’t fit any more.”

  “Can’t we?” Jack seemed surprised.

  “Not without giving them a valid reason.” Paulina massaged the bridge of her nose, deep in thought.

  “Tess, how would you feel about coming back temporarily to produce Ollie again?” Jack asked. “To help us manage the transition?”

  “And I can have the agony aunt slot back?” Tess felt relief sweep through her. It was Mission Accomplished after all! Chris wouldn’t be so judgemental about her lack of a Plan B now.

  “I’ve already told you,” Paulina snapped. “We can’t consider that until after the relaunch. If we bring it back now it will confuse the listeners. But,” she looked at Jack and shrugged, “if you want Tess to work behind the scenes, that’s your decision.”

  Jack was looking at her eagerly. Tess hesitated. Chris had said this should be her Plan B. But it wasn’t Chris who was going to have to work with Ollie Andrews. An Ollie who would be more difficult than ever now that he was under such intense pressure.

  “It would only be temporary,” Jack pleaded. “And I’ll make sure you’re very well rewarded financially. We,” he looked at Paulina ruefully, “have never had to deal with such an ... er ... artistic personality before. And I can’t stress how vital it is that we keep the station going as normal while we’re working on the new schedule. Look,” Jack glanced at his watch, “I have another appointment now. But how about we go for dinner later on and discuss it there?”

  “Er ...” Tess remembered promising to meet Chris for dinner. But the thought of more lectures from him wasn’t very tempting. And, who knew, away from Paulina’s prying eyes, she might be able to persuade Jack to give her another chance at the agony aunt slot. Chris would understand. To his mind, dinner with Jack would be like an extended version of the elevator pitch. She could hear him now. “This will be two whole hours to convince Jack McCab
e of your all-round fabulousness.”

  Besides, she was enjoying seeing Paulina looking so discomfited. Supercilious cow. She barely stopped herself from batting her eyelashes, as she’d seen Sara do so many times. Instead she put a big smile on her face and replied, “I’d love to go to dinner, Jack.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Tess slipped off her shoes and threw herself onto the enormous black leather sofa that dominated Chris’s living room. It was the archetypal bachelor pad: the room dominated by an enormous flat screen television and an expensive sound system. Stark white walls hung with disturbing abstract paintings. “An investment,” Chris had explained when he’d shown her around. Although he needn’t have bothered. Tess couldn’t imagine anyone buying them for pleasure.

  She thought back to the night of the reunion when Chris had suddenly announced he had to leave because he had a five a.m. work assignment the next day. But before he had left, he had asked her to meet him for lunch the next day. This was when he had somehow convinced her to push herself forward more with the help of his career coaching techniques.

  At the time, she had thought it was all ridiculous and had only gone along with it thinking their relationship would re-ignite as soon as the career coaching was over. But, so far, romance seemed to be the last thing on Chris’s mind.

  First, he had suggested she stay in the spare room, citing something vague about how his shift work might disturb her, and how a good night’s sleep was essential for her to totally concentrate on the coaching. And then, it had been career this and career that, the best way to get ahead, what Jack McCabe might be looking for and how she, Tess, could give it to him. Frankly, she was exhausted by it all.

  She padded through to the bedroom, trying to decide between her boring business suit or the dress she’d bought for the reunion. She opted for the suit, pulling her hair back into a chignon, intent on presenting a professional front. She glanced at the clock. Still no sign of Chris. Tess tried his number but got his voicemail again. She scribbled a note, explaining that she was meeting Jack to talk about going back to Atlantic 1 FM and apologising for changing their plans. She pinned it to the fridge with a magnet emblazoned with the words, You can’t control everything.

  Hmm, you could have fooled me, Tess thought. She opened the hall door and felt a deep sense of relief overcome her, and the further she got from Chris’s apartment, the better she felt.

  The weather was balmy for the time of year and the air was alive with the promise of summer. People sprawled on benches along the canal or sat outside cafes sipping beer and coffee, making the most of the lengthening evenings. It occurred to Tess that she could move to Dublin, rather than start her globetrotting again. It would mean she could still get a foot on the career ladder and she had already broken the ice with her old college friends at the reunion. She had met up with Katie Lawlor for lunch during the week and got the impression that, as a new divorcee, Katie would be more than happy to have someone to hang out with.

  The restaurant was tucked away on a corner of a busy street, on the top floor of a handsome Georgian redbrick. A queue of people snaked down the stairs and onto the pavement outside.

  Tess eyed them curiously. Everyone was suited and booted, shirts and ties for the men and formal jacket and skirts on the women. Some of them were carrying folders and one man had a briefcase. She frowned and looked down at her navy business suit. She fitted right in here. A dark-haired woman with a pretty, open face turned to face Tess. “Can you believe how many people have turned up for the interviews this evening? Did you think there’d be this much competition?” She made a dramatic, eye-rolling gesture at the people just in front of her, as they shuffled self-consciously from one foot to another. Something cold unfurled in Tess’s stomach.

  “Competition for what?”

  “Duh – the jobs, of course.” The woman noticed Tess’s astonished expression and did the eye-rolling thing again. “I know. You wouldn’t think a call centre would get so much interest would you?” She waved a hand towards the queue again. “God knows how long we’ll be here!”

  Tess followed her gaze and saw that the people snaking down the stairs were actually queuing for a small recruitment agency’s office on the first floor of the building. The dark-haired woman was looking at her with sympathy. “So what did you do before the recession? Solicitor? No – don’t tell me. You were in banking?”

  “Er ... I’m not here for the job. I’m going to dinner, actually,” Tess nodded apologetically towards the top floor, from where the unmistakeable aroma of good Italian food was floating down to them.

  “Lucky you!” The woman looked wistfully at Tess. “I used to eat in restaurants like that all the time. That was until my business went bust, of course. I owned my own florist shop – living the dream, or so I thought. But then one of the big multinationals in the town I was living in folded and trade just went through the floor. My shop’s been closed almost a year now, I’m up to my eyes in debt and I’ve given up on being my own boss. If I don’t get this, I’m going to be evicted!” She gave a small shudder.

  Tess took a deep breath. If she didn’t get a job before her savings ran out, she would be in much the same position. She could go home, of course. But the small village in the West of Ireland where Tess had grown up had even less going on in it than Killty. She felt panicky just thinking about having to live there again.

  “Well, good luck anyway,” she smiled awkwardly at the woman as she started to climb the stairs, her earlier optimism completely evaporated now.

  She spotted Jack immediately. He was back in the casuals he’d been wearing the first day she’d met him in Rose Cottage – faded jeans and a light shirt. Tess needn’t have worn her business suit after all. In fact, as she watched him smile at the waitress, a willowy young woman with a mane of dark curls framing her face, Tess wished she was wearing her sluttiest dress.

  “Tess!” He stood up as she reached the table.

  She slipped into the seat opposite him and stole a look at him from under her lashes.

  He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m glad you came.”

  The restaurant was packed and buzzing with conversation and laughter. The women in particular had dressed up, in strapless dresses and lots of bling jewellery. Tess tugged at the collar of her jacket. She could see a glimpse of a balcony through a pair of handsome French doors at the other end of the room and she had an overwhelming urge to get some fresh air.

  Jack followed her gaze. “It’s a bit stuffy in here, isn’t it? We could take our drinks out after eating if you like?” His hand brushed against hers, and Tess felt a flicker of electricity go through her. She looked at him, startled, trying to see if he’d felt it too, and as their eyes met she again had that odd sensation of recognition, as if she knew Jack from somewhere else, in the far distant past, almost in another life. But if he felt anything, he didn’t show it and instead started talking about work.

  “So. Will you come back as Ollie’s producer? Hopefully it will only be temporary, just for this transition period. Tell me you’re interested!”

  “I’m not sure,” Tess said slowly. “I mean, what happens afterwards – when the transition period is over?”

  “Oh,” he looked a bit nonplussed, “I haven’t really thought that far ahead. Maybe you’ll have won It’s My Show by then.”

  Tess took a deep breath. She needed more than that. She didn’t want to be thrown out on her ear when Atlantic 1 FM was relaunched and Jack and Paulina no longer had any use for her. “It would help me make a decision if I knew I could resume the agony aunt slot. I feel like a fool for the way I handled it. Making a success of it the second time around would help me get my confidence back. It’s the only way I’ll have a chance in the contest.”

  Jack gave a rueful shake of his head. “For some reason Paulina has a bee in her bonnet about that at the moment. I talked to her about it again after you left this afternoon. But she’s adamant that we can’t have any more c
hopping and changing until after the launch. And she is very good at her job, and I don’t have a clue about PR so I need to back her on this one. But look, once the contest is over,” he looked at her winningly, “you can have it back then.”

  Luckily, she was saved from answering by the waitress who returned to take their order, and as she filled both their glasses with red wine, Tess began to relax at last. The food was delicious, the wine was soothing and Jack was excellent company. It turned out he was as widely travelled as Tess but, as he explained regretfully, the trips were all business-related and he’d never had time to enjoy the countries he’d visited.

  “Going back to some of them is on my bucket list,” he smiled. He was fascinated with Tess’s very different experience of crossing the globe on a shoestring. As she recounted some of her adventures, she remembered how wonderful they had been and for the first time since she’d arrived home, she began to see her “decade of dithering”, as her dad had once called it, in a much more positive light. There were different ways of doing things that was all, she told herself, and as she sat in the glow of the buzzy restaurant and Jack’s company, some of the intense pressure she had been putting herself under to get on the career conveyor belt began to melt away.

  Jack’s phone rang, interrupting the atmosphere. He took it out of his pocket, a frown deepening the ridges on his forehead when he glanced at the screen.

  “It’s Louisa – my sister. I’ll have to take it.” He shot her an apologetic look.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said lightly. “I’ll get a breath of air.” She still felt uncomfortable in her business suit and was glad of the chance to cool down. She took her glass of wine and walked towards the French doors, stepping out onto the small balcony.