Getting Even (18 page)

“He's very attractive—I wouldn't blame you.” With luck her approval might encourage a confession.

“D'you think?” Cassie's tone was nervous.

“Ooh,
yes
!”

“Actually…” Now Cassie leaned in close too, arms resting on Orianna's old desk. She lowered her voice so she wouldn't be heard over the partition. “He asked me out last Friday.”

Today was Monday. “And?”

Cassie's face took on a glazed expression. “We had
such
a lovely time.”

Bugger lovely times, I want to know if you've done the dirty deed, thought Ivy. “I'm not surprised. He's a nice guy, Leon. Where did you go?”

“The movies.” Cassie smiled at the memory.

“And?” Ivy raised an eyebrow.

“Then we went back to his.”

“And?”

“I stayed over,” blurted Cassie.

Ha! “Well…?”

“Well, what?”

“Did you…?”

More blushing. She's as bad as Orianna, thought Ivy. No wonder those two have taken to one another. She prompted, “Was he good?”

“Fantastic!”

Damn. She'd always suspected he would be. Jealousy seared through her, but it was important to establish the extent of the attachment. “Do you think it might happen again?”

“It already has,” admitted Cassie.

Ivy blanched.

“We ended up spending Saturday together too.”

Echoes of Orianna and Dan; a sexual attraction swiftly and joyfully consummated, with potential for serious romance. Yet again Ivy was pierced by loneliness; except for a trip to the gym on Saturday, she'd spent the weekend alone. Russell was up in Hertfordshire with his family, as usual, but even Ed hadn't called her. Not that she'd really wanted him to—these days she and her husband never had much to say to one another—nonetheless, it brought home their lack of intimacy.

Orianna, Dan, Cassie, Leon—they're all so smug and self-satisfied, she thought. Oh for the days before Cassie's arrival, when Orianna was bumbling and romantically incompetent, Dan was just an affable colleague, and Leon was more interested in flirting with
me
!

She crept in even closer and whispered, “Actually … if I were you I wouldn't tell anyone you've been seeing Leon.”

“Why?”

“I know it seems silly, but they can be funny here about casual agency relationships, trust me.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I wasn't planning on telling everyone anyway. Not now. It's early days.”

“No, no, of course you weren't. It's just, well, it's easy to share, isn't it?” Ivy reached out, her fingers almost touching Cassie's.

“Yes, I suppose.”

“Honestly, Cass, I'm not kidding you; they believe relationships interfere with our work.”

“They?”

“The board. I think it stems from Russell originally; he can be funny about things like that. Likes to keep the professional and the personal separate, you know, and it's sort of an unspoken part of the company philosophy.”

“But what about Orianna and Dan?”

“What about them?”

“Well, they're quite open about their relationship, aren't they?”

“Yes, they are now. But rest assured, Orianna and Dan kept quiet for months before going public. Ask anyone.”

Cassie looked perturbed. Ivy guessed in the normal run of events she would have blurted to all and sundry once her relationship with Leon was a few weeks old.

“I know what it's like, so if you have to tell someone, perhaps tell me?”

“OK.”

“Good. It can make people look a bit unprofessional when things go wrong.”

“I guess.”

“Just imagine, Orianna would feel dreadfully humiliated if her relationship with Dan unwound itself, now that everyone in the agency is aware they're dating, wouldn't she?”

“I don't think that seems very likely—they seem so happy.”

Ivy's mind worked fast. “I wouldn't count on it.”

“Really?”

“Oh, it's probably nothing.” She looked away.

“What?”

“Well…” She hesitated as if to appear reticent, then continued, “If you remember, when you started, and Dan came to have a chat, he seemed to avoid going into much detail about how serious it was.”

“Er…” Cassie frowned.

“I certainly don't think he'd consider marrying her, for instance.”

“Why not?”

“Because he's Jewish, for a start.”

“Me too.”

“Really? That's a coincidence!” Ivy affected surprise. Cassie
Goldworthy
? I mean
please.

“Yeah, my father's Polish, my mother's American, but Jewish too.”

Ah, that's where
Cassie
comes from then, noted Ivy. The U.S. of A. No wonder it sounds like something from
Little House on the Prairie.
She continued, “I don't know about your parents, but I gather Dan's family is quite religious—you might remember him mentioning it.”

“Yes.”

“That's not the only thing.”

“Oh?”

“I heard something extremely interesting … just the other day. At the gym.”

“Yeah?”

By this point Ivy was wedged in, resting her elbows on Orianna's old desk too. Their faces were only inches apart. “But you mustn't breathe a word, Cass, to a soul.”

“No, I won't.”

Ivy suspected however much she liked Leon, Cassie wouldn't be able to resist a compliment, so revealed, “Because someone else fancies you—not just Leon.”

“Wow. Really?”

“Though I gather he is very keen, so he's holding off.”

“Oh?”

“He knows it might cause a few ructions.”

“Why?”

“He's seriously entangled with someone else.”

“Oh? Who?” Ivy could almost hear Cassie's heart racing with excitement.

“Because it's
Dan,
Cassie, that's why.”

“No!” A gasp. “How do you know?”

“Why do you think he was in such a hurry to come and say hello? And so embarrassed to talk about Orianna? Think about it … He's been around here a lot.” Of course he has, you silly cow, thought Ivy. It's his job.

“Er … I suppose.”

“It's not me he's coming to see, let me assure you.”

“Oh.” A pause while Cassie assimilated it all. Then, “But who told you?”

“Rob,” said Ivy. “He's my personal trainer. Dan's a client of his, too.”

 

20. Weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath

Dear Mr. A. B. Sample,

As a valued customer, it is my great pleasure to be writing to offer you a new way to go about paying for your home. And indeed, all of your monthly standing orders and direct debits. It's called an Offset Mortgage.

Jesus, with copy this clichéd, no wonder the last agency lost the business, Ivy observed. And now I've been given the unenviable task of rewriting this letter in line with an idea developed by Orianna, without my input at all.

Orianna had left her scribbled concepts and a note asking Ivy to “tidy up the headlines and write the body copy.” How insulting. Ivy checked the brief.
Target Audience: B2C2 Adults.
Cheers, she thought, that helps a lot.

The letter was needed for the end of play, so she had to get a move on. In her mind's eye she envisaged Mr. and Mrs. Middle England, living in their Barratt home on the outskirts of Birmingham, with two children, a Labrador, and a Ford Mondeo. She began to type.

Dear A. B. Sample,

You've been banking with us for many years, but that's no reason to stick with the same old way of managing your money. Your life's moved on—you've probably got children to think of, a home to manage, a car to run. With so many demands on your energies, you simply haven't the time to bank in the way you used to. Yet you still want to be in control of your finances, enjoy the best service, and, above everything, earn the best rates of interest.

If that's the case, then an Offset Mortgage is right for you …

Ivy paused and reread her version. Yes, that was better.

She was good at this, making a convincing argument, altering the tone to appeal to certain sectors of the population. She'd written to mums about supermarket prices, teenagers about spot remedies, beer aficionados about widgets in cans, pensioners about investment opportunities. Like an actress taking on different roles, Ivy didn't have to believe in what she was doing in order to play each part. In advertising the line between fact and fiction was always blurred, and she'd discovered telling some of the truth—“brand so-and-so tastes better than other butters” for instance, and ignoring the full picture—“it contains more salt, will make you fat, and costs more than its competitors”—was how to sell more products and thus make a success of herself.

These lessons had reinforced those she'd learned as a child: just as her father had falsified evidence of his income to avoid paying child support so, in fact, everyone the world over lies, or avoids the truth. Over her years in marketing, Ivy had seen how easily people can be duped, and it was a small leap to altering her tone of voice on paper to doing it in person. Ivy had discovered that friends and colleagues, just like customers, could be persuaded to believe what she wanted them to.

Less than an hour later, Ivy was ready to show the letter to her boss. Orianna's door was open and she was sitting at her desk, eyes fixed on her computer screen. Ivy coughed, and Orianna looked up.

“I've done it. Here.” She handed over the sheet of A4.

Orianna skimmed it. “That's great.” She smiled appreciatively. “As always. I knew I could rely on you.” She hesitated. “Er … would you mind awfully taking this down with the scribbles I gave you earlier and showing everything to Ursula? I trust you to talk her through it and I'm trying to get my head around some figures.”

“Oh right,” said Ivy. Gone are the days Orianna and I presented ideas as a team, she noted.
Quelle surprise.
She was poised to leave when Orianna stopped her.

“Ivy?”

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to check—are you OK sitting with Cassie, working together and so on?”

Ivy gleaned from Orianna's expression she was keen to hear it was. Tempted as she was to say Cassie irritated the hell out of her, Ivy saw more potential by responding otherwise. “It's fine. She's very talented. I don't mind working with her…”

“Good—that's what I hoped.”

“… so long as I'm not bothered being interrupted by a constant stream of boys.” She laughed lightly.

“Oh?”

“Her admirers.”

“Really?” Orianna fell straight for it. “Such as who?”

“The guys in the studio, you know what they're like. They've all got the hots for her.”

“Doesn't surprise me.”

“And God knows how many of the suits.”

“Well, I never!”

“Even your Dan, he can't seem to resist popping in from time to time.”

Orianna paled.

“Though I'm sure there's nothing in it, of course.”

“No.”

“He's only being friendly.”

“Yes.” Orianna gulped.

“That's just what Dan's like.”

“True…”

“And I have to respect a girl who can wrap so many men round her little finger. Don't you?”

“Er, yes.” A hesitation. “Dan was only being friendly?”

“Orianna, sweetie, of course he was! It's simply his way—he's like that with almost everyone, isn't he? Just having a laugh.”

“I guess…”

“He's a normal red-blooded male, that's all.” Ivy paused, twisted her hair. “He's only got eyes for you. When I see the way he looks at you—it's
completely
different.”

Orianna appeared relieved.

So, the knife. “She's ever so pretty, isn't she?”

“Mm.”

“Anyway.” Ivy altered her tone. “It's fun working with her. Reminds me of what we used to be like. Full of enthusiasm and impractical ideas. We have such a giggle.”

Orianna smiled wanly. “I'm glad.”

*   *   *

No, Orianna convinced herself, if Ivy says there's nothing in it, there isn't. Dan's like that with everyone. She shifted her focus onto the positive—at least Ivy and Cassie seemed to be getting along well.

See, she thought, we do have similar taste in people, and whatever others say, Ivy's much more generous spirited than she's given credit for.

Orianna recalled the copy she'd read minutes ago. There was no doubt Ivy was a first-class writer; fast, shrewd, and to the point. So what if she occasionally takes a long lunch? Ivy would never miss a deadline. And if she's a bit abrasive every so often, does it matter that much? She's been perfectly OK with me recently, and now she's going out of her way to befriend Cassie too, which is really sweet of her. And to think I was worried I should have let Ivy meet her sooner.

As for Dan, Orianna couldn't process that right now. She turned back to her computer, focusing on the figures she'd been e-mailed, and bit her lip, perplexed.

Call me stupid, she thought, but shouldn't our biggest overheads be salaries, office rental, print, and production? Even taking these outgoings into consideration, it seemed running an agency was bewilderingly costly. Orianna was anxious that if things didn't look up soon, there would have to be layoffs, and she was eager to impress those members of the board who'd been cynical about her appointment—namely Russell—so she had been working harder than ever to bring in new business. Lately she'd assigned several teams to work on each project simultaneously—something Neil had never done. This had inspired some of the lazier creatives to make more effort and encouraged others who were set in their ways to look at briefs afresh. The sense of competition had increased the tempo of the department and raised standards. It also allowed her to choose the best work to present at pitches, and as a result Green had recently won two major new accounts, and several existing clients had put extra business their way.