Chapter Twenty-Eight
Stella
She was at Slop! at her work station, standing, in her best pair of black fuck-me heels, staring at the Pilates ball that had replaced her chair. She’d taken to wearing trainers to work, telling herself she’d walk more, eat more, NO less, but some days a girl just needs a lift. When she’d asked for her office chair back, the office manager, Charlie, had laughed. ‘Live a little, learn a lot,’ he’d said. She liked the concept of improving her balance with the ball, but she had no idea where her core was, or if she even had one. Looking down at it in her heels, she had a terrible fear of falling off, surely that couldn’t ‘empower her creativity’ or ‘renew her newness’, it could only crush her coccyx or fracture her tibia. She shivered and looked around, half expecting a camera to be trained on her, waiting. Not of course that they would laugh at her – they were too millennial for that. They were more likely to send her on a three-hour self-improvement acceleration programme on ‘how to sit well on a ball’.
Choosing to stand over her desk, back arched in a hump, and calves and hamstrings at full stretch, she dealt with her inbox. Sorting everything unread by sender, then deleting everything she didn’t recognise. One caught her eye. There were three emails from Eliza Dinero, marked ‘Confidential: Opportunity’. She didn’t think she recognised the name, but thought knowing her luck it was bound to be an intern she had hired at some point and been vile to, who had now decided to sue her for getting her baps out too often or something ridiculous like that. She did have a track record in her heyday – who didn’t when you worked eighteen hours a day and every hangover was only ever expunged by a lunch-hour freshener, normally a bottle of Pinot Grigio and a bag of Monster Munch. But Eliza’s last message, sent just ten minutes earlier, said, ‘Get in touch. I am a friend of Renée and Stef, whom you met recently. I promise you I have something interesting to put to you face-to-face.’
She googled her name. She appeared to work in private equity, for a firm with some dubious, but no doubt profitable, publishing interests. Renée and Stef were the impressive power couple with the lesbian travel blog, Two Birds, One Bed, or something. She decided she had nothing to lose, so she whizzed her back a quick email and got on with her day, losing herself in brainstorming sessions about ‘how to save the world from too many carnivores’. She struggled with this issue. Yes, she wanted a sustainable planet; No, she was not prepared to give up meat. She’d already given up plastic straws. One sacrifice at a time. Luckily they established that this was NOT an absolute binary and she was phasing out meat by having one pescatarian and one vegetarian day a week. The kids were struggling. They only ate chicken and things that they thought were chicken. And chocolate.
Leaving work, Stella enjoyed the click-clack of her heels as she strode through the playroom and past the new receptionist, a tall, thin guy with a top-knot who called out, ‘Have a great night, Sybil. Every day is a new day.’
She rolled her eyes.
‘Night, Dude. Let’s hang loose!’ She waved and he looked afraid.
Just then her phone buzzed in her pocket, and thinking it was Ana with an update (she was so worried about her), she answered without thinking.
‘Stella? Hi, it’s Eliza Dinero. We exchanged emails earlier.’
‘Eliza, hi! I am just leaving the office,’ said Stella slightly more harshly than she had intended.
‘I’m not stalking you, yet,’ responded Eliza, ‘but I might start if I don’t get my way. Have you got five minutes to chat?’
Intrigued, though reluctant – because she had two kids at home and the new nanny, a reliable but humourless grandmother, would not be happy if she missed her 6.30 p.m. curfew – Stella said, ‘Sure.’
‘You were first brought to my attention by Renée and Stef of Two Girls, One Trip. You know them?’
‘I have met them, yes.’
‘I have a proposition,’ continued Eliza. ‘Don’t worry, not that kind of proposition! I am the CEO of a small venture capital group looking for new markets. We are launching an online social media-led lifestyle magazine targeting metropolitan women, Gen X and Yers, disposable income and big ambitions, in their careers, and in their lives and leisure. The women who want it all and deserve it all. We can’t find the right candidate, despite interviewing lots of applicants. Renée and Stef will be content providers and they keep saying I have to meet you. You have a foot in both camps so to speak. You’ve had a career, and a family, and you’re back in the workplace with an open mind. Your experience and more adventurous approach to life sound like a great fit for us.’
Stella worried where all this was coming from. She didn’t know Renée and Stef, and she didn’t know what they knew about her. How much would Coco have said? Thoughts of Coco added to her confusion. Since their ‘text break-up’ after New York, she’d deliberately kept her at arm’s length. This, combined with her heart-to-heart with Jake, made her nervous about re-engaging with her and her social circle. She’d betrayed Jake enough and even thinking about it made her ashamed of how she’d deceived him.
‘That’s nice to hear,’ said Stella. She was silent for a few moments and then said, ‘You know I’m not some kind of militant, feminist, cult figure to lead a lesbian revolution.’
Eliza exploded in laughter. ‘No, Stella. Your sexuality is irrelevant to us. We want you for your brain. This could be the opportunity of a lifetime: proper backing, a great team, and an exciting new proposition that you’ll get to put your own stamp on.’
Stella’s head was spinning. It did sound incredible. There was no doubt Slop! was fun, a stepping stone, a crash course in the online world, but they were NOT her people.
‘OK. Perhaps we should meet?’
‘How does lunch tomorrow work? Slice of Life by Old Street, one o’clock?’
‘Sounds great,’ Stella replied with a spring in her step.
She had barely hung up before her phone buzzed again and this time it was Ana.
‘Where have you been!?’ demanded Stella. ‘I have been frantic.’
‘Yup, well, it didn’t all go quite to plan,’ said Ana glumly. ‘Rex has gone and I’m pregnant with Joel’s baby. It’s like a soap opera.’
‘Well, that’s not all bad,’ tried Stella, shocked, desperate to ask more questions, but knowing that Ana needed her to listen. ‘Better to have a baby with the man you love rather than the man you used to love. Why do you sound so sad?’
‘Because it was horrible, Stella. I have been horrible. I have broken Rex’s heart into a million pieces. I betrayed him and now I’m all alone.’
‘What about Joel?’
‘Joel? I’m such a fool, so naive. I called Joel, and he hung up just after I told him about the baby. I don’t know what I expected. He didn’t want to know.’
‘You sure? Are you absolutely sure? That doesn’t sound like Joel, he was SO excited to see you, but then I suppose fame can do weird things to people.’
‘I can’t believe I thought he would actually really want me. He could have anyone he wants, why would be want a boring old English girl like me. I was just a bit of fun – one more conquest.’