Busy Woman Seeks Wife (35 page)

“Fantastic. Bloody fantastic!” Saff yelped, and watched as Alex then made her way into the crowd to talk to the astonished
journalists. As the groups parted, Saff could see a smallish black man in shades and a loose jacket and trousers. On his fingers
were a mass of rings and there were chains around his neck. Surrounding him were huge men in suits who had to be minders,
and a growing crowd of photographers and onlookers, but he was too deep in conversation with the small girl standing beside
him and chatting animatedly to notice. Saff could sense Max standing beside her. “Who is that Millie is talking to?” she asked
in horror.

“I am reliably informed by Oscar, who is pea-green with envy, that it is a character called Dizzy Zee, who, Daaad,” he mimicked,
“is only like the coolest hip-hop singer in the universe.”

“Crikey, that’s a coup. Was he invited?”

“I believe not. He slipped in during the show. A friend of Bettina’s apparently. Alex looks as surprised as anyone.”

“Well.” Saff looked around her as the crowd began to mill about, some being escorted by press reps for interviews, others
beginning to leave. “Do you suppose they all want some more breakfast?”

“There’s not much left for them to eat. I think we’re virtually cleaned out. A woman from some snooty magazine asked me which
company I worked for because they had a magazine event coming up.” He put his hand in his back pocket and pulled out her card.
“Here you are.”

Saff took it and laughed out loud. “Jeeez. That’s a biggie. Shame. That would be fun!”

“But why’s it a shame? Why can’t you do it?” Max insisted.

“ ’Cos I can’t, silly. This was just a one-off emergency to help Alex.”

Max put his hands on her shoulders. “Darling, I have never seen you look so excited by anything as you were last night putting
this together. You were loving it, weren’t you?”

Saff looked down, a bit embarrassed. “Yes, I was really.”

“Then why not think about doing it more seriously? We’ll get the kitchen all up to standards—even rent you a little unit if
you like—and you can cater events at Offcut and we’ll get your name out there. Alex will help, I’m sure. And you can do it
when you want so you can still be there for the children.” Saff watched the excitement in Max’s eyes. “I’ve been worried about
you, but I didn’t know what to say. What to suggest. Then, when I watched you last night I realized you were missing a challenge.
How about it?”

So he
had
noticed, and for once this was about her, about what
she
wanted to do, about what she
could
do. She threw her arms around Max’s neck, tears in her eyes.

A
lex had waited behind awhile at the venue to answer questions and make sure all the promised interviews had been completed—
The Times
took ages—and she’d seen Bettina off back to her hotel, accompanied by Dizzy Zee, who’d kissed Alex and declared the show
to be “awesome” and could she send some stuff over to his hotel? Sanferino had shaken and almost dislocated her hand and,
with a deep rolling laugh, had announced he could quite “dig” being a model. Of Frankie and Ella there was no sign.

“Have you seen them?” Alex asked the Bean, who was at her side. “Only I need to say thanks.”

“Perhaps they’ve gone home, darling. The poor boy must be exhausted after his midnight flit, and then he was holed up with
Gavin and Camilla and a very tall security guard for quite some time. How exciting! He told me all about it.”

“Did he get to see the show?” Somehow it was important to her that he had.

“Oh yes, he stood with me. Quite the strangest outfits but I suppose they have a certain charm. I’d quite like a pair of those
shoes in nectarine.”

“Then, Mum, you shall have a pair. And in fuchsia and lemon and anything you want. I am so grateful to you.”

“Not bad for an old has-Bean, am I?” Her face was questioning, searching Alex’s for reassurance.

“Certainly not. You are my favorite Bean.” She brushed back a stray hair from her mother’s face. “I think I have realized
I can’t do all this on my own. You know, be Miss Independent. Sometimes it’s good to let people help. I know I couldn’t have
managed without you.” She could feel a lump in her throat. “Now get yourself off to bed before I get all soppy.”

The Bean kissed her daughter on her forehead. “And that wouldn’t do, would it, Alex, my dear? I’m so proud of you, my clever
little girl.” And she laughed and walked away. Suddenly Alex felt her feet go from under her as she was scooped off the floor.

“Babe, you were brilliant. Awesome!” Todd spun her around. “
The New York Times
is enchanted.
Vanity Fair
is nagging for show pics and Miss Ice Cold from
The L.A. Times
even smiled!”

Alex returned his kiss, but his mouth tasted stale. “So you managed to keep them all happy? Nagging me paid off then?”

“Oh, come now. I’ve gotta do my job. It’s publicity you want, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Todd, it is.”

“Now, how about dinner later? Let me follow up all these requests…” He held up his file. “Then you and me will go somewhere
lovely and celebrate.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Your bed would be a good start.”

She pulled away slightly and there, over Todd’s shoulder, she could see Frankie disappearing out of the building. Alex flinched
as Todd nibbled her earlobe. “Er, perhaps not tonight, hey? I’m very tired and there will be loose ends to sort out.” She
smiled weakly at his puzzled expression. “I’ll call you sometime.” And almost barging him out of the way, she dashed for the
door after Frankie, fending off people trying to stop her and shake her hand. She needed to see him. To say thank you. To
say anything. Just to see him. Which way had he gone?

As she heaved open the swing doors, she was faced with a pavement full of people and crowds pushing against the security barriers
for one last peek at the celebrities. And through the crowd she could just make out Frankie’s and Ella’s heads through the
back window of a departing taxi. Suddenly the exhaustion of the past few hours caught up with her and she could feel herself
slump.

Back at the office things were not as she had left them last night. As they all poured back in from the launch there was chatter
and laughter. Phones rang incessantly and people called their colleagues across the room for information, more details on
prices, earliest dates for supplies. People slapped Alex on the back as she arrived. Even the receptionist seemed to have
heard it had gone well and smiled warmly. As Alex approached her desk, there was a small crowd gathered around it.

“Is this the welcoming committee?” she laughed as she dropped her bag, but none of them appeared to be smiling. Alex followed
their gaze to the top of her desk. Her laptop, or at least what was left of it, was strewn across it, the lid smashed and
twisted, the contents spewed out like roadkill. Papers had been ripped and hurled about, save one on which was written “Fucking
bitch.” Alex looked over at Camilla’s desk, which was completely clear because anything on it had been swept onto the floor,
and its surface had been scratched deeply with something sharp. “Oh dear,” Alex said lamely. “I take it she’s not here.”

“No. She came back to clear her desk and went beserk.” Gavin approached from his office. “We had to call the police, though
I probably should have done so straightaway. She’s with them now—I’m sorry you had to see this, Alex. Come on, people.” He
turned to the crowd and put on a mock American accent. “There’s nothing for you here. Go back to your lives. Alex, in my office?”
She followed him, leaving the carnage behind and Peter, who, ironically, was beginning to pick up papers from the floor. Gavin
shut the door behind him, but didn’t sit down. Instead he did his characteristic twitching, moving papers and fidgeting. “Did
you have any inkling?” he asked without preamble.

“About Camilla? Not a clue. I thought it was Peter, to be honest. How do you know about it?”

“Some girl, I think you know her, made me wear an earpiece, so I heard what you heard. Who was she and how was Frankie involved?
I thought he was just a postgrad student.”

“They’re friends of mine. Good friends, and I asked them to help me because I had suspicions.”

“They were great. I think we should employ them. I have to say I’m staggered though and I think I owe you an apology.” This
time he did sit down, and leaned back in his seat. “You have been stitched up by that girl.”

“I should have noticed.” Alex walked over and looked out the window at the river. “I should have got suspicious earlier, but
she was so clever, always making things appear as if they were my fault and then offering helpfully to sort them out. I’ve
been thinking about it in the taxi back from the show. When she looked at her old e-mails when I asked her about the timing
of the Turkey courier, she can’t have been looking at anything at all. She must have sent an e-mail changing the time as if
it was from me and then deleted it.” She leaned her head against the glass. “I’ve been such a fool! Frankie must have realized
when he got to Turkey.”

“Frankie went to Turkey?”

Alex explained what had happened and Gavin raised his eyebrows in amazement. “What a man! We’d better make sure we pay him
handsomely for that. And what about the newspaper exclusives—and
Scorch
. Did she screw that up too?”

“Must have done. And delaying Bettina’s car this morning.” Another thought occurred to her. “And maybe even the Claridge’s
suite mess-up. I should have thought it a bit odd the way she kept wanting access to my laptop.” Alex paused, her head filling
with clues now. “The screwup with the press pack—I wonder if that was anything to do with her?” She sighed. It was incredible
really. “I’ve been too trusting and all the time she was after my job. But hell, Gavin, she was my assistant. I had to delegate.”

“Of course you did. And that’s how it should have been. If it’s any consolation, there is no way I’d have given her your job.
She wouldn’t have been right. Camilla didn’t have a tenth of the initiative and motivation you have, Alex. Today was superb
and the feedback already is magnificent. We’re looking at a significant raise for you, and let’s not see if we can’t get you
a wider brief, hey?” He smiled. “Maybe Europe? Though I’d hate to lose you in the UK. Better still, give me some more ideas?
What have you got up that sleeve of yours?”

“Well.” Alex looked at Gavin, about to share her idea for the senior sportswear range, but something made her hesitate and
she felt anger rise. It made her rash. “You know, Gavin, you haven’t really been very supportive of me during all this, have
you? But that doesn’t seem to matter now it’s all gone well.”

Gavin’s eyebrows were raised in astonishment. “Well, you…” he blustered.

She plowed on. “But it matters to me. You were so quick to think the worst of me. So keen to undermine and discredit me in
front of everyone, shouting at me across the office. You didn’t give me time to explain, you just piled on the pressure.”

“Yes, but you came through. That’s what matters.”

Alex shook her head slowly. “It’s pretty sloppy management, I think. Let’s see, shall we? I’ve got some mulling over to do,
then I’ll let you know what I think of your offer.” And she walked out of the office, leaving Gavin with his mouth hanging
open.

Alex fielded calls for the rest of the morning, even during a celebratory crayfish-and-arugula sandwich and small plastic
beaker of bubbly someone had produced at her desk. IT had swooped and were attempting mouth-to-mouth on her laptop hard disk.
In the meantime she took and made calls of congratulations, including one to Donatella and an interesting one from a headhunter
who would “love to take her out to lunch when the dust has settled.”

“Guys, get this.” It was Peter, who burst through the door brandishing the
Evening Standard
. He let out a whoop of delight and within seconds people were around him, but he held up the paper so Alex could see. “Get
a load of this!”

There, on the front page, was a color picture of Dizzy Zee, all teeth and bling, with his arm around an ecstatic Bettina in
crop top, the company logo in full view. “Zencorp’s new look set to go mega,” shouted the caption. “Full launch story page
3.”

“Wow, and look at my sneakers! This has to be worth a hundred percent raise for both of us,” laughed Peter smugly. “And a
company Beemer!”

Alex felt her arms goosebump with excitement. This was the very best she could have hoped for. It had been not just a success
but a triumph. Her future was looking great.

So why was Frankie the only person she wanted to celebrate with?