Vivian picked up a stack of mags from Lucy’s desk and started striding out of the office. ‘Sheer panels,’ she called out over her shoulder as she walked out.
Piper was enjoying this. It felt more like play than work. Sheer panels, she discovered, were replacing whole sections of dresses, with the wearer going commando underneath. Gwyneth Paltrow and J. Lo had pulled this look off super successfully. There was also a development on this trend, where whole dresses were sheer, and any underwear was completely visible. Piper had fun getting information about who was wearing the dresses, and when. On her computer screen at the moment were Jennifer Lawrence and Selena Gomez, both rocking sheer dresses with completely visible lingerie. Piper checked the clock. She still had an hour and a half before Vivian would return to the office. Lucy had hurried off on some errand, so, aside from the constant trickle of people going to and from the fashion cupboard, she was alone.
Piper looked at Jennifer Lawrence in the sheer Dior gown. Perhaps it was her role in the tough world of The Hunger Games that made Piper wonder about the origin of the trend. Why were so many women baring all these days? Piper remembered reading about the ‘Lipstick effect’ theory: apparently, in an economic downturn, women will buy more luxury items like lipstick, and bare more flesh, partly to cheer themselves up but also to attract men. Could the lipstick effect be applied to the sheer dress trend? Times were certainly tough economically.
In a sudden burst of inspiration, Piper wrote a short piece about the lipstick effect and fashion. She knew she was supposed to be researching, not writing, but there was something satisfying about using her research to write a piece on how the theory was relevant to this modern trend. When she’d finished, she added the title ‘Sheer Sense’. She felt a bit like she’d finished a jigsaw puzzle, and was happy with how she’d fitted things together. Of course, it was just a quick little writing experiment; she wouldn’t show it to anyone. As soon as Vivian came back, Piper could just switch screens back to the results of her research.
‘Sheer Sense, huh?’
Piper turned around. She’d been so engrossed, and had become so used to the constant hum of action from the hallway, that she hadn’t heard Vivian come into the office. Now, Vivian was standing right behind her, scanning the article over her shoulder. Piper braced herself for a dressing down, but she secretly hoped Vivian might be pleased with her initiative. She even allowed a tiny snippet of daydream that Vivian might even include grabs from the article in the fashion pages.
‘Well,’ Vivian sneered. ‘How very ambitious of you, Piper. Gosh, let’s publish it straightaway! We have a journalist on our hands. Let’s see what you’ve done.’ Piper was silent as Vivian kept reading the article. ‘This is all right,’ she finally announced. ‘As in, not a complete disaster.’
Piper looked at her. She almost detected a twitch at the sides of Vivian’s mouth, as though she might be a tiny bit pleased. But, very soon, the old Vivian was back in full force. ‘So, did you actually do what I asked? Or did you just go off on your own tangent?’
If she was trying to stamp out any remnant of Piper’s crazy hope, she’d succeeded. Piper turned to her computer, clicked out of the ‘Sheer Sense’ screen and returned to the research, scrolling through all the information and images she’d found.
‘Piper,’ Vivian clicked her fingers and pointed up the corridor. ‘You need to get up to Rose’s office. She wants to see you.’
Piper bit her lip. The finger clicking was driving her nuts. Even if she was a dogsbody, she wasn’t a dog! Bronwyn seemed to have decided there was nothing she could do about it, but that wasn’t Piper’s nature. She had to say something.
‘Okay, Vivian,’ she said carefully, ‘but is it possible for you to stop clicking your fingers at me?’
Vivian tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself.’
As she walked towards Rose’s office, skirting around a group of half-naked models in huge, frizzy, white-blonde wigs, Piper took some deep, calming breaths. Vivian was just a bitch – it was no big deal. It gave Piper a little pleasure, at least, to indulge in a fantasy. She imagined herself walking into Rose’s office with a print-out of the ‘Sheer Sense’ article.
Rose would read it straightaway. She would comment on Piper’s writing style and the interesting angle she’d taken. ‘Please,’ Rose would say, ‘would you mind moving to features? We need you. Bust out. Do something bigger, something more ambitious. It’s clear you can handle it, with your talent.’
Then Piper would write a feature article. She wasn’t sure what it would be about yet, but something would occur to her. Something fascinating that they couldn’t refuse to publish. Something that would win a coveted Australian Publishers Excellence Award. Something that would stick it right up finger-clicking Vivian.
Piper arrived outside Rose’s office, and looked through the glass door. Rose was wearing blue culottes and a cream silk shirt. As she moved around the office, phone in one hand, Piper was reminded of a cloud in the sky. Rose turned Piper’s way and waved her in with her free hand, motioning towards a guest chair.
As soon as Piper sat down, the fantasy evaporated. Rose may have been floaty, but she was also clearly super busy.
‘Yes, I’ve seen your spring range, Donatella,’ Rose said into the phone. ‘It’s perfect. There isn’t a piece I wouldn’t want to use.’
Rose was on the phone to Donatella Versace. Even if Piper did have the guts to show Rose her article, she was pretty sure that reading it wouldn’t be high on Rose’s priority list.
‘Yes, but of course we have Kit Willow’s spring range too. I think a bit of mix-and-match would give the best results. The romance of the eclectic, you know?’ There was a pause. ‘Lovely to speak with you too, Donatella.’
Rose hung up the phone and looked at Piper. She sat down, pouring two cups of tea from the large silver teapot in front of her. She put one in front of Piper.
‘It’s camomile,’ she said, ‘to soothe nerves and restore balance.’
Piper took a sip and tried to imagine the tea soothing and balancing her. Rose leant back in her chair and fluffed her blonde curls. Before Piper could speak, there was a knock at the door.
‘Come in,’ Rose called. ‘Piper, this is Wendy Roberts. She and Lawrence Sharp form the team over at features.’
Piper took in a breath. She tried not to stare, but it was interesting to meet someone who wrote features articles for a living. Wendy was glamorous, but in a different way to most people Piper had met at the Aspire offices. Her dark hair was cut into a geometrical bob and she wore a black dress and grey ballet flats. Piper thought she looked intelligent, though that could have been something to do with her red Prada glasses. For some reason they were perched on the tip of her nose.
‘So, we’re a hundred per cent sure we’re going to go with “Thinking Threesome”?’ Wendy asked Rose. Although she’d nodded politely at Piper, it was clear Wendy was preoccupied. ‘Because I’m just touching up an alternative and I think I could finish it by the time we go to press.’ Now it occurred to Piper why Wendy’s glasses might be perched on the end of her nose. Wendy probably only wore them for reading and writing, and that, if Rose gave the okay, she would be back in her office and onto her computer within seconds.
‘It still goes into the whole idea of group sex,’ she continued, passion in her voice, ‘but it just goes a bit deeper into the psychological repercussions. I’ve been able to access amazing reports. If we just up the word count to two thousand …’ Wendy stopped mid-sentence, responding to the look on Rose’s face.
‘Sorry, Wendy,’ Rose said. ‘We’re staying with the status quo at the moment until we make some decisions about the new direction. We’re discussing strategies and looking into different models. But keep it light for the time being, okay?’
The sense of urgency Piper had felt before fizzled. God, if she had more experience, if she’d been asked, she would have loved to join the conversation. She’d come
across stuff about threesomes in magazines sometimes. Usually, they were pretty ludicrous – just designed to titillate. But to really investigate how things worked in a situation most people would never experience for themselves … less as far as she was concerned, Wendy’s idea sounded fascinating.
Wendy took off her glasses. ‘Yes, of course, Rose. Understood,’ she said with a tight smile. Then she left the office.
Piper wished she could follow her back to the features department to pick her brains about writing, but Vivian’s warning not to get ahead of herself still rang in her head.
Rose took a sip of her camomile tea and her phone rang. She checked caller ID.
‘Ah, something else to soothe the nerves,’ she said with a smile before answering the phone. ‘Mason. How are things up in the turret?’ Piper heard the warm tone in Rose’s voice. She was surprised that Rose would refer to Mason as someone who soothed nerves. In Piper’s experience, he was more likely to fray them.
Whatever Mason said at the other end made Rose chuckle. Piper got up to go, but Rose motioned for her to sit back down.
‘Oh, Mason,’ said Rose. ‘That is a big job, and of course you can’t do it alone. I know you don’t have a PA since we let Petra go, but we can at least get someone up to help. The boardroom is currently being used by the art department, but it’s free at four and you’ll be able to spread out there. I’ll send someone up to meet you there. Anything else?’
Rose nodded at Piper, indicating that she was the someone who was being sent up to meet Mason Wakefield. Her heart started to beat faster. God, was she really going to be working with Mason Wakefield? The idea was pretty scary.
Now, Piper felt herself straining to hear what Mason was saying on the other end of the phone. Rose’s laugh tinkled around her office and Piper felt confused. Was Mason making a joke? Was he actually a nice guy?
Rose was still smiling when she put down the phone. ‘Piper, I did have other plans for you, but oh well. How are you with Excel spreadsheets?’
‘I’m okay,’ Piper nodded. Excel wasn’t exactly her favourite program, but she’d used it plenty of times.
‘Wonderful. Can you please meet Mason in the boardroom at four o’clock?’ she asked. ‘He needs some help.’
Frigging spreadsheets.
As Piper walked towards the boardroom she thought about what life would have been like if things had gone according to plan. She’d be starting her uni course in exactly a month. She’d be moving to Brisbane and settling into the cute little house that Ally and Sarah had found, and another phase of life would be about to unfold. But here she was, in Melbourne, about to fill in spreadsheets.
Some huge trunks, pushed by a stork-like girl in ridiculous heels, barrelled down the hallway towards her, and she flattened herself against the wall get out of the way.
When Piper finally found the boardroom, she noticed that instead of the usual glass doors that allowed people to see what was going on inside, the door was a rust-coloured sliding panel.
It was slightly ajar. Piper peered inside. There was Mason, sitting with his back to her. He had his phone in one hand, and the other hand was running through his dark, wavy hair.
Piper knocked at the panel and bit her lip nervously as Mason turned around and waved her in, still on the phone. He was wearing a suit jacket and white-collared shirt with the top two buttons undone.
Piper ran a hand down her pinstriped skirt, smoothing the creases.
‘Okay, so we’re all sorted, right?’ Mason said into the phone. ‘Can you get him to clear out his desk tomorrow so you can pass his laptop on to another department?’
Piper winced. Obviously someone else had been axed. She looked down at the granite floor, then back at Mason. He didn’t seem to be too troubled about the situation.
Mason finished the call and put his phone on the table. He looked expectantly at Piper.
She was suddenly nervous. Should she introduce herself, even though they’d sort of met already? Before her brain knew what was happening, her mouth launched in.
‘Hi, I’m Piper. I met you yesterday, which was when I started. I was the one with the dog in the office. It was Rose’s dog, but I guess you know that. Vivian asked me to walk him. I’m working with Vivian. And Lucy, of course.’ God, she was babbling. What is it about this guy that makes me turn into an instant idiot? She took a deep breath and made herself slow down. ‘Rose asked me to come and help you.’
‘Great,’ said Mason, smiling. Despite the fact that she’d been rambling like a maniac, he looked at her as though she was exactly the person he needed for this job. He got up and slid the door shut behind them.
Piper had expected the boardroom to have a corporate feel, but it was much cooler than that – more like an amazing warehouse. At one end of the huge room were three thin rectangular windows, almost like picture frames presenting chosen snippets of the outside world. Subtle rectangular rays of light fell across the table of blond wood in the centre of the room. The chairs around the table were covered in soft ponyskin, the tan-and-cream patterns a little different on each. A large screen on one wall featured the image Piper had seen yesterday on Rose’s desk: the angular model in gold chiffon, rising out of a waterfall.
‘All right, Piper,’ said Mason, ‘here’s the gig.’ He switched on some lights above the boardroom table, then pulled out a chair and motioned for Piper to sit down. She was glad – her legs had weirdly started to feel like jelly.
She waited while Mason set things up. He lay some A3 printouts on the table in front of her. Then he opened his laptop, and leant across to click open an Excel file. As the spreadsheet opened up, Piper became distinctly aware of how close Mason was. She noticed the line of his jaw. Chiselled, she was sure it would be called. She was close enough to see the pulse in his neck, moving the skin a tiny fraction, in and out.
Piper tried to focus on the spreadsheet. It looked complicated. There were loads of worksheets in the file, full of colour-coded figures with formulas attached.
‘It’s bit of a dry task, but an important one,’ Mason explained. ‘I’ll need you to work on a master spreadsheet, so we can combine all the figures in these worksheets.’ Piper could smell a combination of things: his soap, his deodorant, his skin. ‘But we need to add ten per cent to each of the red figures, subtract fifteen per cent from the blue, and multiply the black ones by three,’ he went on. ‘These are projected outcomes that need to be adjusted according to various market influences.’ He looked at Piper. ‘Does that make sense?’
‘Um. I think so,’ said Piper. ‘I’m supposed to add ten per cent to the …’ She could feel his eyes on her now. A little current of electricity flashed between them. ‘Er … to the red,’ Piper felt her cheeks flush. She felt like she’d hardly caught anything he’d said. God, he was going to think she was a complete moron.
Mason went over everything again, his voice calm and relaxed. Piper tried to concentrate and convince herself that she’d imagined that little spark.
‘I’m just going to sit on the other side of the table,’ he said. ‘So if you have any questions, just ask, okay?’
After Mason had explained the task to her a second time, Piper realised it wasn’t hard. The thing was, there were so many figures that needed to be adjusted, and it wasn’t even remotely interesting. Piper had never liked numbers. English and photography had been her things at school.
The hardest thing was trying to ignore Mason. She didn’t know what he was working on, but she got the feeling he was struggling. It was in his pauses. Sometimes, when she glanced over, she’d see his fingers hovering above the keyboard for long periods before a few brief moments of action. Then he’d stop again, his forehead creased, and push his hands through his hair. After half an hour of this, his phone rang.
‘Rufus,’ Mason said. ‘Yes, it will all be ready for Thursday, don’t worry. We’re working on it right now.’ Mason sighed as he hung up the phone. He tapped the table. ‘How far off are you from finishing,
Piper?’ he asked, looking over at her.
‘Um, a while,’ she said apologetically. It was a big job, and there was no point rushing it and making a mistake.
‘Do you think you could work back a bit tonight?’ he asked, as though he knew it was a favour. ‘I really need to firm up those figures.’
‘Of course,’ Piper found herself saying, and she must have been a bit delirious from the numbers in front of her because then she added, ‘YOLO.’
Mason grinned. ‘I know, it’s riveting stuff. I’ll get some food sent in. How do you feel about pizza?’
At the mention of food, Piper realised she’d missed lunch. She was starving.
‘I feel great about pizza,’ she said. She loved pizza. Especially with strong flavours, like anchovies, chilli, garlic and olives. Unfortunately, it was exactly the kind of pizza that Dylan would never eat, so she always ended up having Hawaiian with him.
‘Do you mind if we get one with anchovies?’ said Mason, as if he’d read her mind. ‘I’ve got an unhealthy obsession with them.’
‘That sounds perfect!’ agreed Piper. And her stomach leapt with something that wasn’t hunger.
When they had finished their pizza, Piper got up to stretch her legs. She could feel Mason’s eyes on her.
‘Tell me,’ he said slowly. ‘What do you think about Aspire?’
Piper had started to feel more relaxed with Mason as the evening wore on – she hadn’t said or done anything stupid, so that was a definite improvement. But this question caught her off guard.
‘Oh, um. It’s great,’ she said. ‘I mean, the people seem nice. Mostly. Rose is great.’
‘Yeah,’ Mason agreed. ‘Rose is great. But I mean, what do you think about the magazine itself?’
‘Oh!’ said Piper. ‘Well. It’s very good. It’s fine. Especially if you like fashion and dieting and all that.’
Love is the New Black Page 6