The Making of Mia

by Ilana Fox

  ‘And just how would you boost my circulation?’ Mia raised one eyebrow at Joshua, and as she let out a dirty laugh he clocked his double entendre. ‘My mistake,’ he drawled. ‘How would you boost the circulation of my magazine?’

  Mia grinned. ‘The same way that I would send the blood pumping around your body. I’d spend some time looking into what had let the libido drop, and then I’d begin with a quick, sharp shock before slowly letting things reach a climax.’ Mia shifted in her chair and turned from being a sex kitten into a magazine professional. Although he didn’t show it, Joshua was impressed.

  ‘I estimate that your issue last month probably represented the biggest drop in your circulation figures yet. You may not have the numbers, but I’m willing to bet an awful lot of money that an issue featuring “how to give him the best sex of his life” and “what your diet says about you” wouldn’t have shifted as many magazines as the April edition from last year, which contained a guide to the different fashion trends coming out of all the major cities in England and a piece about how to deal with affairs that take a turn for the worse. Quite simply, your readers don’t want to be told who they are in such overt, obvious ways any more. They can form their personal identification by reading between the lines, picking and mixing the different voices that come out of the editorial so that each reader feels unique in who they are, separate to the girl who is sitting on the Tube reading the same issue. And articles such as “what to wear to that crucial job interview” just don’t cut it in 2006.’

  Joshua looked at Mia with a neutral expression on his face, and Mia continued. ‘It may surprise you, but girls already know what to wear to job interviews. And on behalf of every reader of Gloss who is sick to the back teeth of being told what to wear, I’m telling you this so she never has to read that article again. Are you paying attention, Mr Garner?’ Mia asked flirtatiously, and as Joshua nodded – wondering how such a firecracker had found her way into his office – Mia crossed her legs. Joshua ached to look under the table to see if her skirt had inched up her thighs, but he was far too smooth to do that.

  ‘Your average Gloss reader doesn’t want to be told that a pencil skirt and a cute cardigan will get her the job, but she does want to know how she can dress to encompass all the things she knows she is and can be in a new job. She wants to dress so that she stands out from the crowd without the interviewer knowing why. She wants to tap into the subconscious of the man asking her the questions, and she want to leave with him trailing his eyes on her bottom as she walks out of the interview room. She wants to look like she sparkles.’

  ‘So you would recommend an expensive Chanel suit,’ Joshua began slowly, ‘and a silk shirt flimsy enough so that the interviewer can tell that your nipples are dark pink?’ Joshua didn’t take his eyes from Mia’s face, and she let a pause hang in the air between them before softly chiding Joshua.

  ‘I wouldn’t recommend wearing any one outfit, Joshua,’ she said, quietly, with amusement rippling through her voice. ‘And I certainly wouldn’t suggest that a Gloss reader dresses like me. She wouldn’t have the salary to afford it, or breasts that are so perky that they don’t need a bra. But since you’ve been listening to me intently you would already know that.’

  Mia grinned a devilish, sexy smile at Joshua, and then tore her gaze away from him, trying not to blush at the fact he could see through her shirt, or worry that she had disagreed with him. She knew nobody ever told Joshua Garnet off.

  ‘I’d give the reader a selection of clothes, a pick-and-mix capsule wardrobe with the psychology behind each selection, and how various high-flying employers rate each outfit. I’d interview the designers from behind the high-street labels to find out what inspired certain lines, and I’d ask celebrities – proper ones, not the D-list – to explain what they would choose to wear to portray various aspects of their character. You could almost run a whole issue based around the psychology of what to wear for a job interview, but you would have to conclude, in the end, that it’s never what you wear but how you wear it, and that not even Gloss could help with that.’

  Mia took a sip of water, and as she put the glass back on the table she could feel Debbie’s stare blazing through the glass partition. She had been in this interview for a long time – longer than the time she suspected she had been allocated – but Joshua didn’t seem to care. He appeared to be genuinely fascinated by her, which had been the idea. It felt good to know she had Joshua standing to attention to listen to her, when a few years ago he had ignored her ideas due to how she looked.

  ‘But why work for me?’ Joshua said. ‘You could take your pick of magazines to work for, from Vogue to Cosmopolitan to Glamour. So why Gloss?’

  Mia shrugged, but inside her stomach was turning somersaults – Joshua thinking that she was good enough for Vogue was a compliment she never thought she’d hear.

  ‘Gloss used to be my favourite magazine a few years ago, but I feel that recently it’s lost its way. Whether that is down to Araminta or because of Madeline Turner, I cannot say, but of all the magazines I could work on I feel Gloss needs the injection of energy I could provide. It’s been lacking for a couple of years – apart from the Miami special you did – but really, the magazine needs to be brought back to how it was when I was younger. My favourite issue of Gloss was the one where it explained exactly how to get the x-factor like Keira Knightley. It was about more than just fashion or beauty, it was about attitude, an attitude that anyone can have. I liked that issue because it would have struck a chord with every girl in the UK. It certainly interested me, and I thought it was a triumph in terms of magazine journalism.’

  ‘That was our bestselling issue of the year,’ Garnet admitted, looking at Mia with admiration. ‘But if you’d done your research properly – and I assume you have – you would know that already.’

  Mia laughed. ‘Yes, I admit that I do, but the whole issue was inspiring. It was genius.’ Mia silently applauded herself again on a terrific issue of Gloss.

  ‘Thank you,’ Joshua said. ‘I take credit for that issue, it certainly wouldn’t have happened without me.’ Mia felt any jubilation about how well her interview was going drain away from her, and her whole body clenched in anger. How dare he take credit for her work? she thought, as Joshua continued to smile. Mia inwardly fumed, and she struggled to remain composed.

  ‘But I’m confused,’ Joshua began, his eyes narrowing as if he had just thought of something that there couldn’t be a feasible answer to. ‘I can’t understand why a woman like you would be so interested in reading articles about getting the x-factor in Gloss.’ Mia froze, and she felt a cold chill run down her body. ‘Articles like that are aimed at women who will, frankly, never have the x-factor purely because they have to read about it to find out about it. Take, for example, my old PA. I’m sure she was sweet, but she was so desperate to be a journalist that it literally oozed from every enlarged pore on her blubbery body. It really was quite revolting. I used to catch her rereading that particular issue so many times that I used to imagine she was committing every bit of it to memory. Eventually the issue she kept on her desk became so dog-eared that I had to ask the cleaners myself to remove it. The greasy fingerprints on the glossy pages were extremely off-putting. I wondered if Jo was planning on eating the magazine next.’

  Mia thought she was going to faint. She suddenly felt light-headed, and she wondered if Joshua was on to her, if he was testing her. She gripped her glass of water, and desperately tried to force a smile on her face. Breathe, she thought to herself, as Joshua looked at her curiously.

  ‘She certainly sounds quite the character,’ Mia said diplomatically, and Joshua nodded.

  ‘And she was the type of girl who loves Gloss because it is everything she wants to be but never can be,’ Joshua said. ‘Fundamentally our readers are lazy – they need to be told what to wear to job interviews because, to be honest, they haven’t a fucking clue. But I do agree with you that they need to feel like they are the ones
in charge. You’re right – we should offer advice, but we shouldn’t dictate things to them like our competitors do. We should state that what we say is merely being offered as the Gloss opinion – from people who know what they are talking about.’ Joshua stared at Mia, who he thought looked slightly bored, but he was on a high from her ideas.

  ‘Rather than being told what they should do, Gloss readers want to have a conversation with a person who they want to be, someone it would be impossible for them to have access to in their daily lives, and even if they did, they’d never have the courage to ask for advice. Miss Blackwood, you genius, they want to be having that conversation with you.’

  Mia put her glass back down on to the meeting table and shot Joshua a megawatt smile.

  ‘I mean, look at you,’ Joshua said, as he ran his eyes slowly and suggestively across her body. Mia could feel his gaze stripping her naked, but she felt neither offended nor turned on as relief that he hadn’t caught her out flooded through her. ‘You are possibly the sexiest woman I’ve ever met,’ Joshua said. ‘You are not the most beautiful, and nor are you the cleverest, but you are disgustingly sexy and smart. You are everything that a Gloss reader aspires to be, but you are also so much more. So, so much more.’

  Despite herself Mia grinned. She had Joshua Garnet right where she wanted him, and it felt fantastic.

  ‘But even though you are all that, I have decided that I don’t want you to be features editor on Gloss after all,’ Joshua began, and Mia felt her grin freeze on her face. She didn’t understand what was suddenly happening, but she had a gut feeling that something hadn’t gone to plan.

  ‘If I could just—’ Mia began, but Joshua cut her off.

  ‘I’ll admit that you strike me as special, Miss Blackwood, but Garnet Publishing doesn’t just give jobs to pretty girls willy-nilly,’ he said, raising an eyebrow and smirking. ‘And I think the board may have a problem with your age … Especially as I’d prefer you to be our deputy editor, rather than in charge of features.’

  Mia allowed herself to blush – deputy editor was more than she had dreamed of.

  ‘If it makes a difference I’m nearly twenty-four, and I’ve got years of writing experience.’ Mia paused and decided to bring out her secret weapon. ‘I was speaking to my friend Paris Hilton just the other week about my meeting here, and she said she’d love to do an interview with me for Gloss … so long as she got the cover.’ Mia tried not to look smug, and made a mental note to thank Gable for promising her a meeting with the hotel heiress. Paris Hilton covers always sold magazines, and Joshua knew it.

  ‘Let me talk to the others, and then come back to see us in a week. If you can convince them then I’m sold … and Mia …’ Joshua slowly looked Mia up and down. ‘When you come back, impress them like you’ve impressed me today.’

  As Mia walked out of his office she felt Joshua’s eyes on her bottom.

  Chapter Seventeen

  April 2006

  ‘Lucy, what are your ideas?’ Mia asked as she led the weekly editorial conference in the meeting room. As Lucy spoke Mia watched her, impressed with how cool and composed she remained while reading out her feature plans. Araminta had gone on maternity leave, meaning Lucy was in sole charge of managing all the freelancers, and she was clearly doing a great job. Despite wanting to hate her, Mia found she couldn’t. She understood why Lucy hadn’t spoken up when Joshua had sacked her – nothing she could have said would have saved Jo from the chop – and enough time had passed for Mia to realise it. Lucy was now Mia’s number one, and the magazine was flourishing with both of them in management positions.

  As Lucy outlined a feature idea involving a man who’d set up a clinic for models who got depressed when retiring aged twenty-five, Mia checked out the rest of the team. Lizzie was still in charge of the fashion desk – with Tally, Imogen and Rosebud all covering the shows – and Helena, who used to be junior writer, had stuck it out long enough to be the main staff writer on the magazine. Mia briefly wondered why Madeline had kept her on, but decided Helena could write the small pieces that freelancers refused since there weren’t enough words to make it worth their while. Hayley still looked after the picture desk, Hannah was the travel editor, and the same faceless men were in charge of design. Despite not having worked at Gloss for two years, nothing much seemed to have changed. Mia looked at all of them as she watched them focusing on Lucy and she tried not laugh as the realisation hit her. At only twenty-three she was the youngest of them all – yet she was in charge.

  Everyone knew how old Mia was, of course, and when she’d first joined as deputy editor, gossip about her had run wild throughout Garnet Tower, with the boys from Lewd magazine coming downstairs to check her out, and various journalists from DG, Honey and even Cycling Monthly looking at her with curiosity in the canteen. Nobody thought for a moment that Mia could be as good as she said she was – after all, how could she be? She was only twenty-three, a baby. Mia overheard several of the girls in the toilets suggesting that she had only been given the job because she was Gable Blackwood’s little sister, and one afternoon Mia caught Debbie bitching to Katherine by the smoking room, saying that Mia had been employed because Joshua fancied her. Mia shot her a look of absolute blankness as she walked past the pair, and Debbie froze, unsure if Mia had overheard her or not. As Mia stepped into the lift she smiled to herself. Debbie’s time was nearly up, she thought.

  As the weeks went on, however, Mia had worked her magic so well on the magazine that the editorial team grudgingly had to admit that she was good. A month after she had begun, the team put the finishing touches to the first issue Mia had controlled, and they confessed it was killer – it was a breath of fresh air that incorporated the Gloss brand but took it to dizzying new heights. Word on the street was that Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire and Glamour had all managed to get hold of Mia’s dummy copy of the magazine, and that they were all having crisis meetings to discuss how to get the edge back into their publications. Although it pleased her to find out that she was panicking her competitors, Mia found the girl who had sent the dummy issues to the rival publishing groups and sacked her in front of everyone. As the security guard led the sobbing girl out into the bustle of Covent Garden, Mia surveyed the room silently. She had their respect, and it had only taken four weeks to get it.

  Although Mia was one hundred per cent focused on Gloss she also kept an eye on Madeline Turner. The editor only spent a few days a week in her office in Garnet Tower, and Mia was unsure of what she did the rest of the time. Whatever it was it must have been exhausting, as Madeline now seemed like half the woman she used to be – her thick black hair no longer gleamed, and she was pale and withdrawn, with dark circular shadows under her almond-shaped eyes. When Mia first ‘met’, Madeline Turner she was shocked at how tired she appeared to be. Her husband, on the other hand, was more energetic than ever, enjoying the ripples that Mia was causing in the industry.

  ‘Everyone at Marie Claire is quaking in their boots,’ Joshua said with evident satisfaction, as the pair had lunch at Petrus one afternoon. Mia and Joshua were sitting near one of the abacuses with blown-glass beads, and before they had ordered Mia had run her hands over the claret leather chairs and crisp white linen tablecloths, feeling tiny ripples of pleasure rush through her body. Being able to grab a quick working lunch in the Berkley’s restaurant definitely proved she was a player, and other people obviously felt she was too, judging by the number of diners who had appeared at their table to introduce themselves.

  Mia grinned, and she speared a piece of roasted Scottish lobster on to her fork. Even though she was as busy as she had been the last time she was at Gloss, at least she had the money and the spare time in the evenings to ensure that she ate properly. She hadn’t put on a single pound since she had been back in the UK, and that was the way she liked it.

  ‘I told you they would. We pretty much sold out last month’s edition, despite the larger print run, and Gloss is hot again. We ran a few focus groups, and it s
eems we’re now appealing to a slightly younger ABI woman. Eva in commercial has told me about a thirty-two per cent surge in advertising because of it, and we’re allocating more pages to ads next month.’

  ‘So would you say you’re on track with your promise to double circulation by the summer?’ Joshua asked, and Mia nodded.

  ‘I’d say so – we’ve signed a deal with a book publisher to include two summer bonkbusters with the June issue, but not only that, we have a secret weapon for July – it’s never been done before.’

  Joshua stopped eating his breast of Gressingham duck and sighed. ‘What is it, then?’ he asked, sounding bored despite his eyes lighting up. Mia could tell he was desperate to find out what she had in store but he couldn’t bear for her to know it.

  Mia took a sip of her mineral water, and then, sensing Joshua’s impatience, she ate another mouthful of her meal – she had ordered lobster with scallops, followed by salmon and lobster ravioli and it was the best seafood she had ever eaten. As much as she wanted to rhapsodise about it she noticed that Joshua ate his meal with minimal interest, not even looking as though he was enjoying it. However, Joshua certainly appeared to be interested in her, and his eyes were flashing as he waited to hear what she had planned. She loved watching her boss get hot under the collar.

  ‘Ever heard of disposable MP3 players? They’re the latest thing to come out of Japan, and they’re incredibly cool. They hold up to a hundred tracks, but the difference between these MP3 players and all others is that they’re so cheaply made that once you’re done with them you just throw them in the bin – perfect for taking on to the beach if you’re scared your iPod is going to be ruined by sand.’