by Ilana Fox
‘Why, all of it. What’s to like? London has such a fascinating history, but the people who live here make a mockery of it, creating pastiches of what they think the city should be like. Look at those watering cans, for example, he remarked, gesturing at some silver watering cans with leafy plants growing out of them. ‘They’re ridiculous, and probably cost hundreds of pounds. Why on earth would anyone think that this urban version of gardening would be appropriate for a drawing-room in a hotel? And who would spend a stupid amount of money on something so crude?’
‘Some would say that they’re in here because they look nice,’ Mia commented, and William laughed.
‘And existing because “they look nice” sums up London good and proper, doesn’t it?’ he said, sparring with her. ‘My editor goes on about London having the best of everything – restaurants, museums, architecture – but if you scratch beneath the surface you’ll see that there’s nothing actually there. Everything in middle-class London looks nice, but really, it’s meaningless beauty. And that statement includes the women,’ he said, pointedly.
Mia shrank back from his gaze. ‘I’m sorry?’ she asked in a small voice. She thought they had been getting on so well, but now, rather than chatting like they used to, William had just insulted her. She almost wished William knew who she really was so he would scoop her up in his arms like he once had. She wasn’t sure she liked being on the wrong side of him.
‘Miss Blackwood, if you’d read one of the hundreds of preview copies of Caviar Society that were sent out, you’d know that a large section of it sends up London’s painted ladies. Of course, prostitutes in London are nothing new, but there’s a new breed of women in the city who think that the world is their oyster just because they were born with bright eyes, impeccable features and cupid-bow lips. Truly, the way they whore themselves about the city is disgusting. They say they’re career women – “working” in PR, journalism, fashion – but really they’re just on the lookout for either a man who is rich or one who is famous. They don’t want real love, they just want to be worshipped, and Caviar Society captures that growing trend.’
William stopped talking and took a glug of his whisky. He refused to meet Mia’s eyes. ‘Let’s take you, for example,’ he said. ‘You’re the fourth journalist I’ve met today, and just like you, the three other girls who came to interview me dressed up, pouted, and didn’t know what my book was about. Of course, you’re by far the prettiest, but when did magazines stop sending real journalists on assignment? When did beauty overtake talent in many of London’s key professions? I read an article in the paper today about City men who get their eyebrows waxed to get ahead. It’s ludicrous. And I resent that every facet of London society has to be perfectly groomed.’
Mia didn’t know what to say. She felt physically sick that William didn’t respect her, but she needed to hold her own, despite her eyes stinging with tears. ‘You’re just seeing one side of London,’ she said, after managing to control her emotions. ‘You’re assuming that because you find me attractive I must be dumb, that because the media industry employs girls with pretty faces as well as brains, we’re shallow, and that because a few London hotels are stylish, the city doesn’t have any depth. Surely you’re the one who is superficial by making these presumptions.’
William stared at Mia, he wasn’t used to fawning journalists standing up to him. ‘Maybe I am,’ he said, downing the rest of his whisky. ‘But maybe I’m just sick of being interviewed by people who don’t know the first thing about me, as well. Look, no offence, you seem like a perfectly nice girl, but I’m going to have to end this interview. I’m here on sufferance because the publishing company thinks I should get some media exposure to boost sales, but I’ve had enough of it for one day.’
Mia leant forward and turned her dictaphone off. Part of her wanted to stop the charade, to tell William who she really was, but another part wanted to leave too. If William ever knew who she really was he would no doubt be disgusted by her for changing how she looked, for being so superficial.
‘Fair enough,’ Mia said as flippantly as she could, and she bit her lip hard, desperately hoping she wouldn’t start crying. ‘I’ll tell the magazine that you changed your mind.’
William nodded as he pulled off his smart shoes and replaced them with heavy walking boots that were at odds with his suit. They were very him. ‘You do that,’ he said, and he glanced at her with a smile. ‘Look, don’t take anything I said to heart and don’t be upset,’ he remarked, and he gave her a friendly look that made her want to confide in him, that made her want to tell him the truth. But before Mia could say or do anything, William walked out of the drawing-room, leaving his smart black shoes behind.
Mia sat back down again and stared at them until the tears that welled up in her eyes blurred her focus. Even though Mia had never really had William, she realised that by having surgery she had lost him for ever.
Chapter Sixteen
The moment Mia walked through her front door her phone began to ring. She picked it up when it was obvious Amelia wasn’t going to be content with leaving a voicemail message.
‘So …?’ Amelia asked, without bothering to say hello.
‘He didn’t recognise me,’ Mia said bluntly so that her voice wouldn’t wobble. ‘I was a bit disappointed, but ultimately I’m pleased. If William doesn’t recognise me then Joshua Garnet won’t either. So it’s good. It’s great. Perfect.’
‘But how was it seeing him again? Did you connect?’
‘Not really, no.’
Amelia was silent, wondering what had gone wrong. ‘Are you OK?’
Mia forced a smile, hoping it would make her voice sound happier. ‘Great, never better,’ she said briskly. ‘I’m in the middle of working out how to get a meeting at Gloss next week, in fact.’
‘Jo—’ Amelia began.
‘It’s Mia,’ she interrupted. ‘I’m never going to be Jo again. Never. Meeting William proved that much to me.’
Amelia sighed. ‘Don’t you think you deserve a bit of a break? You’ve had months of intense surgery, and you’re flinging yourself into your career here … do you fancy going to Italy or something? Just for a long weekend?’
Mia briefly considered it, but then pushed the thought away. ‘I’d love to, Ames, really I would, but I’m in London for a reason, and I need to get on with things.’ Her eyes flashed in anger, and, for the first time in hours, a real smile spread on her face. ‘I can’t wait to see Joshua Garnet again.’
Mia sat in the reception area of Gloss and marvelled at how, in the space of a few years, nothing seemed to have changed. Even though a beautiful, ice-blonde Russian called Natalia had replaced Rachel, the hostility that Mia could feel prickling over the reception desk remained unchanged. As the receptionist stared at her spitefully, Mia wondered if it had been written into her hand-over notes that she had to be as rude as possible to other girls. Mia grinned back at her, and shifted slightly on the red suede sofa so that her skirt rose slightly on her slender tanned thighs. Despite the chill in the winter air Mia couldn’t resist showing off her Miami tan, and even though she had some misgivings about not wearing tights to a job interview she knew that Joshua Garnet would appreciate the look. When Natalia’s expression changed from one of dislike to that of utter hate, Mia knew she looked more than good. She just hoped that looking hot would distract Joshua from realising that she was Joanne Hill.
‘Mia Blackwood? Lucy Davenport. It’s so lovely to finally meet you.’ Mia stood up and smiled at Lucy, and the girls shook hands and assessed each other quickly. Lucy had let her light-brown hair grow even longer so that it brushed past her nipples, and she was wearing a dark grey shirt-dress that was buckled tightly at her tiny waist. It fitted her perfectly. To complement the outfit she was wearing some purple crocodile-skin Dior boots – ones that Mia had been coveting ever since she had seen the winter collections in the magazines. Mia beamed at Lucy brightly, and hoped she didn’t come across as nervous.
&nb
sp; ‘I know I’m not sitting in on this interview, but I absolutely had to come and meet you to say hello. Joshua’s PA asked me to let you know that our finance directors are in our boardroom all day, so the interview is going to take place in Joshua Garnet’s office. It’s at the back of the editorial room so you’ll get to see the layout of the place,’ Lucy said, as she led Jo through the familiar corridor towards Gloss. ‘Madeline Turner is off work at the moment – I’m sure Joshua will fill you in on that – so it’s just going to be you and him in the interview. I hope that’s OK?’
Lucy shot Mia a quick glance as they paused outside the double doors that opened into the office. ‘I know that having a one-on-one with the man who runs the whole publishing group is quite daunting, but I’m sure you’ll be fine,’ Lucy said. As she quickly cast her eyes over Mia’s poker-straight expression she wondered if there was any point in trying to reassure her – she didn’t look at all concerned about being left alone with Joshua Garnet. ‘Everyone at Gloss is really friendly, and we’ve all been dying to put a face to the famous Mia Blackwood for ages.’
Lucy pushed the doors open and Mia remembered how overwhelmed she’d been when she’d first seen the editorial office at Gloss. Now, though, she looked at the girls behind the desks coolly. They were still elegant, still dressed impeccably in black, but they no longer intimidated her. Mia knew most of them inside out, and she was going to use it to her advantage, as she had done as Olivia Windsor with Madeline Turner. Very soon, she thought, the girls who used to boss her about would be answering to her.
‘Madeline’s office is just down there, and over here is Joshua’s office.’ Lucy led Mia towards the glass-fronted office at the back of the room, and as they got closer towards it Mia stared at his PA. Debbie, the girl who had spent most of her time bullying her when she was Jo Hill, was now Joshua’s assistant. Debbie must have replaced her as soon as she had been sacked, and Mia wondered why Madeline had agreed to it. As far as Mia knew, Debbie had never been promoted to Joshua’s PA before because of her tendency to flirt with him.
‘Debbie, this is Mia Blackwood who is here for the features editor job. Is Joshua going to be long?’
Debbie looked Mia up and down, and Mia stared at her defiantly. Her blonde hair still looked unhealthy and brittle, and she was wearing heavy orange foundation to try to disguise her bad skin. Even though she’d lost some weight, Debbie’s Top Shop designer copies didn’t fit her body properly, and, most interestingly, her left hand was free of an engagement ring. Debbie shot Mia a sour look and casually tapped something into her computer.
‘He’s in a meeting with design so he probably won’t be too late,’ Debbie said, her estuary accent more pronounced than ever. She gave a melodramatic sigh. ‘I’ll go and get him, though,’ she said, as if she was extremely put out at leaving her seat. ‘He has an important meeting later so he can’t be running behind. In case you’re wondering, your interview shouldn’t take too long,’ Debbie remarked pointedly, and she slowly got up from her desk and walked away.
‘She’s not the friendliest PA, admittedly, but Joshua likes her,’ Lucy said quietly. ‘She’s not a patch on his previous assistant, though.’ Mia felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and she forced herself to smile at Lucy. ‘Look, here he comes – grab me afterwards and maybe we can go for a coffee,’ Lucy said, but Mia didn’t hear her. She couldn’t stop staring at Joshua as he swept past her while concentrating on entering something into his Blackberry.
Mia felt her heart thudding. She had dreamt about this moment for years, and now it had finally come: she was here, standing in front of her nemesis, and she was about to do battle. While Joshua frowned at his Blackberry and jabbed at its tiny keys with his fingers, Mia surreptitiously examined him from under her long eyelashes. How could she have forgotten how attractive he was? Mia drank in his dark hair – with only a hint of grey sprinkled through it – his long Roman nose, his strong chin and dark brown eyes. He had the remains of a tan from a recent holiday, and his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. Compared to Gable he looked positively beefy. Mia noticed that despite her impending job interview Joshua wasn’t wearing a tie, and she could see the faintest smattering of coarse curly hair by his shirt buttons. He was aggressively masculine, and coupled with the power he had and the respect he commanded, Mia could easily see why she’d let him walk all over her when she’d worked as his PA. She wasn’t going to let him do it again, she thought, as Joshua looked up at her and caught her eye. When he grinned at her, Mia swallowed hard and she realised her palms were sweaty.
At Joshua’s command Mia walked into his office, giving Debbie a cool, neutral smile when she whispered a staged, sarcastic ‘good luck’ to her just in Joshua’s earshot. Mia knew she didn’t need luck – she just needed to be herself, she thought, as she took a seat at Joshua’s circular meeting table, which was already laid with crystal glasses of water, notepads and pens. Mia spotted that one of the pens had bite marks around the top of it, and she quickly shot a disdainful look at Debbie through the glass partition.
‘Lucy has already provided me with your cuttings, so there’s no need to go over old ground,’ Joshua said efficiently, shutting the glass door behind Debbie’s retreating short skirt and knee-length boots combination, and settling back down behind his desk. ‘And Madeline Turner has already granted approval for you to be features editor so long as you make the grade with me. Not normal for an editor, I know, but Madeline is currently busy with some personal issues outside of work, and she trusts my judgement implicitly.’ He stared at Mia coolly and tried not to look surprised. He hadn’t seen a girl this hot – and with brains – for a long time. She vaguely reminded him of how Madeline used to be before he married her. But Madeline Turner had never been this beautiful, and had never had such a knock-out body.
‘Tell me about your brother,’ Joshua directed, and as he settled back in his Eames chair his eyes wandered over Mia’s sheer, silky top, her perfectly cut Chanel suit and her blonde hair.
‘Gable’s currently in Russia filming a classic black and white comedy with Uma Thurman,’ Mia said confidently, remembering a conversation she’d had with Gable before he’d flown out to Moscow. ‘He’s playing the part of a man who works as a postman but is secretly a KGB spy. One day he delivers a letter to a woman who he needs to gather information on, and he accidentally falls in love with her. Gable’s looking forward to shooting the sex scenes, apparently, although he’s slightly worried Uma will fall in love with him.’ Gable raised his eyebrows at this information, and Mia could tell he was lapping up the Hollywood gossip. ‘Of course, as much as Gable finds Uma attractive he’s still going steady with Violet Compton, who, I believe, featured in your most recent issue of DG magazine.’ Mia expertly led the conversation back to magazines, and Joshua nodded.
‘She didn’t push sales like Marina Stone did,’ he said, gesturing at the blown-up copy of DG’s cover that was still up on his office wall, ‘but she did well. Our UK readers are tired of the normal British babes – even Jordan is going the way of Abi Titmuss since she hooked up with Peter Andre – so someone hot and exotic like Violet was just what we needed. Do tell her thanks again for me next time you speak to her – she didn’t respond to my handwritten note but I imagine she’s a busy girl.’
Mia nodded brightly, and she noticed Joshua looking at her hungrily. She tried not to blush.
‘I’m assuming you know people in Hollywood other than your brother,’ Joshua said bluntly, and Mia obediently ran off a register of the Hollywood A-listers who Gable was friends with. Mia may not have actually met them, but she had access to them through Gable, and that was the most important thing. Both she and Joshua realised that having Lindsay Lohan’s personal cell phone number was like having a hotline to the prime minister, something that no amount of money could buy, especially if Lindsay was rumoured to have a new part and her agent and PRs refused to take media calls.
Joshua leant forward and rubbed his hands
together. He looked genuinely excited. ‘Gloss is keen – extremely keen, I must say – to introduce more celebrities like that into the fold. The UK public is already bored of the Shayne Ward-type people of yesterday, and they want to identify with proper Hollywood glamour. Anyone can be Shayne or that Anthony who won Big Brother, which was rather the point, I must say, but being someone like Uma Thurman or Scarlett Johansson is quite exceptional. They’re the ultimate in aspiration, and they represent Gloss’s ideology far better than a pasty soap actress laden with puppy fat and bad skin ever could.’ Both Joshua and Mia involuntarily looked at Debbie for a second, and then back at each other. Mia smiled.
‘I shouldn’t think talking to any of these people would be a problem, Mr Garnet,’ she said lightly. ‘Like I said in my original letter to you, my contacts, combined with my feature ideas, are absolute dynamite. What I can bring to the magazine is something tremendously special,’ she said, leaning forward so that a hint of tanned cleavage was showing. ‘Mainly because nobody else is me, has my ideas, or can bring my expertise to your publishing company.’
Joshua stared at her for a second, and he raised his eyebrows. Mia could tell that she had him, but he was still going to try to make her work for it. She looked forward to it.
‘What I want to know, Miss Blackwood,’ Joshua said, changing the tone of the interview so that he was dominating again, ‘is what you are worth without your Hollywood contacts. Let’s pretend for a moment that you’re not Gable Blackwood’s little sister,’ he thought out loud, as Mia bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at the fact that she actually wasn’t, ‘and that you’re just a normal girl who wants to be one of Gloss’s features editors. Why should I employ you?’
Mia leant back in her chair and held Joshua’s gaze. If she didn’t know the magazine inside out she’d have been nervous. ‘Because I am the girl every Gloss reader wants to be – I am famous, but I have not had to do a thing to gain even moderate celebrity status. I am beautiful, without being a bitch with it, and I am the smartest woman who has ever walked into your office. I could double Gloss’s circulation in six months without even breaking into a sweat, purely by changing the tone of your articles so that they appeal to me, and not Araminta. I’m assuming it was her judgement that contributed to a drop in circulation over the last six months.’ Mia saw a flicker of annoyance wash over Joshua’s face and she knew she was right.