How to Get a (Love) Life (2 page)

‘That’s me!’ I said in a strangled voice.

‘Brilliant. And you’re early.’ He glanced at the clock above the doorway. ‘Ah, no, you’re right on time. Wonderful, great, well do come on in, and apologies for the bad language earlier, and the, er, carnage, it’s been a busy day, week.’

‘Month,’ Caroline muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.

Ben tugged on the bottom of James’ navy jumper.

James immediately stood to attention. ‘What is it, my Capt’n?’

Ben proffered a bundle of papers, which, judging from James’ relieved expression, contained the information he’d just been after.

James thanked him with an ‘Arrrrrr, my matey!’ and turned to me. ‘It seems you have some competition, Nicola,’ he laughed, ruffling Ben’s hair. Before I could say anything in return, Ben suddenly decided to become a helicopter (since being a PA was obviously not exciting enough). Rotating his arms, he started running around the room, causing his sister Alice to gleefully clap her hands and drop the apple juice carton once more. Caroline simply sat there laughing as the juice ran across a notepad and dripped rhythmically onto the office floor.

Chapter Two

Stepping over three abandoned toy cars, Helicopter Ben, and a Thomas the Tank Engine colouring-in book, I’d followed James into his office.

As he closed the door, I could make out the soothing murmur of Classical FM filtering through his radio, the children’s voices now an indistinguishable haze. James indicated a worn brown leather chair by the fireplace. ‘Do take a seat. I’m sorry to have kept you.’

‘Not at all,’ I said, sitting down carefully, one leg tucked behind the other, back straight.

‘Well, you’ve had quite an introduction,’ he grinned, unearthing my CV from a desk strewn with pieces of paper, rogue stationery and, oddly, some gold coins. ‘Pirate money,’ he explained, before catching my polite ‘work’ smile and coughing. ‘So, Nicola, your CV is excellent. I see you’ve got a lot of experience working in busy offices?’ he scanned my credentials. ‘You worked as a PA for a head-hunting firm. I’ll bet that was busy?’

‘Yes. Very busy.’ I answered stiffly.

‘So, why do you want to work as a PA in a small agency like this?’ His grey eyes examined my face. I shifted in my seat.

‘I … wanted a change of job. I thought that working for an actors’ agent would be a new challenge, a fresh start, a step toward, um, a step toward, to, to …’

I floundered. I was pretty sure that
because I’m really desperate
or
because I won’t be able to pay my rent this month if I don’t work
wouldn’t cut it as appropriate answers. I felt hot. It was really hot in here. My hands hovered over my skirt, wanting to smooth it down again, wanting to do
something
.

‘Don’t worry, Nicola,’ James said kindly. ‘The truth is, I just need a good PA. Someone who doesn’t mind working hard. Of course, you’ll occasionally have to be able to deal with egos, field calls from exasperated actors, difficult clients, although,’ he glanced back down at my CV, ‘with your experience, I doubt you’ll find that a problem.’ He smiled, showing off a row of perfectly straight white teeth. ‘So, when can you start?’

I blinked in surprise.
That was it?
‘I, well, um, I …’

‘Oh, sorry, to just blurt that out. Would you like me to make an offer in writing? It’s just we are so bogged down at the minute and you seem perfect for the job. Do you think you could work here?’ I examined his face a little more closely. A pulse throbbed in his neck, his eyes were slightly bloodshot. I felt an urge to say yes, to rescue him. But I didn’t like to make quick decisions. Ever.

I pictured my neatly handwritten list of other interviews I had lined up. Each job had a blank box beside it ready to be ticked when I had been. My heart thumped quickly in my chest. This was my first interview; what if this office was wrong for me? What if Caroline and I hated each other? What if James was a nightmare boss? What if …?

Then I looked up at him again, saw his strained smile, those bloodshot eyes, and found myself nodding at him.

James leapt up from his chair with a delighted smile and shook me enthusiastically by the hand. ‘That is excellent, very good.’

I couldn’t help but laugh.

‘So, when
can
you start?’ he asked.

Without pausing to think about it as seriously as I usually thought these things through, I heard myself reply: ‘Today.’

‘Caroline, get in here,’ James called in the direction of the outer office. ‘Quickly! Before the spell is broken and she changes her mind!’

Caroline appeared in the doorway, her daughter dangling from one leg, her arms in surrender as Ben stood behind her with what looked like a stapler-cum-gun.

‘Tell me good news, please,’ she said, shifting her daughter from one leg to the other.

‘Nicola here has kindly agreed to start work today.’

Caroline moved – as fast as a woman with a toddler attached to one limb could – towards me. ‘That is fantastic news! I like you already,’ she said, her poncho and necklace jangling along with her words.

‘Well, arrrrr,’ James said. ‘I think the good ship here is in safe hands and someone can take their little pirates home for fish fingers and chips. What say you, tiny pirate?’ He peered at Ben who, thankfully, had lowered the stapler/gun.

‘That would be incredibly kind of you,’ Caroline said. ‘But perhaps I should stay, show you the ropes …’ She stifled a yawn as Alice attempted to climb further up her leg.

I felt a spark of sympathy towards her. She looked shattered. ‘Really, go, I’ll be fine,’ I said in my brightest, most ‘can-do’ voice.

She didn’t need any more encouragement.

‘Are you sure? Thank you! I owe you! See you tomorrow!’ And, with that, she gathered up her handbag, coat and unruly offspring and dashed out of the office. James raced off soon after for an important lunch meeting and I was left standing alone on the blue carpeted floor. I blinked. I did not expect to be left on my own in the office within twenty minutes of being hired. It was highly unorthodox and oddly trusting. How did they know I wasn’t a burglar? An office stationery stealing burglar. Looking around at my new workplace, I exhaled slowly. Before I could even sit down at my desk, I spotted a thick layer of dust on the top of the filing cabinet, old coffee cups ringed with brown, and a scattering of pirate money across the carpet. I cracked my knuckles and moved towards the kitchen to find cleaning equipment. There was work to do.

The sound of the downstairs door opening pulled me back to the present and I straightened in anticipation of James’ imminent arrival. Whereas I knew every intimate detail of Caroline’s personal life (she was a sharer), I knew very little about James’. Although I
did
know that he had lots of girlfriends. His latest – Tahlula or Tuilie or Tinkerbell, one of those exotic names – did something arty with clothes. She often swept glamorously into the office in search of James, chatting overly loudly with the actors and demanding coffee espresso, which Caroline always went out and got her from the cafe next door.

In a whirlwind of energy, James Sullivan burst through the door and made a beeline for his office, wrestling himself out of his caramel-coloured woollen coat. ‘Caroline, can you do me a favour? Get me Pamela’s PA on the phone and tell her—’

‘—
Morning
,’ Caroline smiled at him, waving a pen.

He blinked, ‘Oh, yes, morning. And, Nicola, will you tell Chris that he really needs to make a decision about that camera ad? Can you also chase Prince Productions for the repeat fees from that police TV series? Thanks.’ He dived into his office and closed the door. A few seconds later it opened again and he popped his head back round. ‘You’re both darlings.’

‘And you’re welcome,’ Caroline laughed as he re-closed his office door. She turned to me and shook her head. ‘That man needs to slow down or he’ll have heart failure by the age of thirty-five.’

‘I concur.’ I nodded, as I reluctantly dialled Chris’s number.

Chris was one of our agency’s most successful actors. Which was good. But was a complete nightmare to deal with. Which was bad. He liked me, though, which made him marginally less irritating to deal with. When I’d first met him he’d been sitting at James’ desk laughing uproariously, beautiful head thrown back, perfect bleached teeth flashing dangerously as a deep growl of a laugh reverberated around the room. It was rare that any man made an impression on me, but even I had to (begrudgingly) admit that Chris was very, very good looking. He had the lazy confidence of a man who was used to being looked at by women. He’d landed a ton of commercials playing the smouldering hero and was now a main character in a soap. He’d recently been requested for a digital camera ad. The ad agency creatives wanted Chris to play a smouldering hero who meets a smouldering woman for plenty of smouldering looks, etc. He’d known about the advert for a week but still hadn’t confirmed if he could do it. Other actors would visit the office weekly, ask what we’d put them up for, update their CV, ring us back the second they picked up our messages. But not Chris. Oh no. I sighed as his answerphone kicked in and his smooth drawl announced: ‘You’ve reached Christopher Sheldon-Wade’s phone … you know the drill.’

I cringed at the message. ‘Chris, it’s Nicola calling from The Sullivan Agency. We need an answer on the camera commercial so we can set it up with the client. Could you please call us back when you pick up this message. Thank you.’ I replaced the receiver, careful to straighten the phone so that it was in line with my notepad.

Caroline didn’t look up from her work, ‘He won’t call you back, you know, Nic. He’ll make you chase.’

‘I know,’ I muttered grumpily.

‘He’s just sitting there, Nic, looking at his phone as it rings, laughing at us!’

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. ‘I’m sure he’s not!’

‘I bet he is. That boy needs a good … a good …’ she waved her pen around again, struggling to find a suitable phrase. ‘A good smash round the ear,’ she finished triumphantly.

‘Er …’
Smash?

‘Honestly, Nic,’ she continued, warming to her topic. ‘He swaggers about, flicking his hair and refusing to say yes or no to anything, never has the decency to tell us when he becomes “ill”.’ She put her pen down so that she could mime the quotation marks. ‘Never cares if we secure him a job or get him an audition, and he never calls back, never, never, never, nev—’

The ringing of the phone silenced her rant. I smirked at her as I lifted the receiver to my ear.

‘Well, it won’t be him,’ she said, crossing her arms.

I poked my tongue out at her and smiled smugly as I replied into the phone receiver, ‘Ahhh, Chris, how
nice
of you to phone back so quickly.’

Caroline rolled her eyes at me. The grin was soon wiped off my face, however, when Chris purred down the line ‘Nicccccola … will I ever see your kniccccccckers?’

Instantly flustered, I ignored his question and instead replied with a formal, ‘Right, okay, so this camera ad wants you to confirm—’

‘—Your voice is so sexy on the telephone, Nicola,’ he whispered laughingly.

As always, I tried to remain professional. Chris was used to having women fall at his feet and he’d been pretty put out that I never had. Consequently, he now seemed determined to make me agree to go out with him. It was tricky because he was one of our biggest clients and I had to keep him on side, meaning I’d spent four years making up feeble excuses and dreading his every phone call.

‘Um, Chris, I just want an answer one way or another so I can call the people back.’

‘Nicola, you never play with me. Always work, work, work.’ He sighed. I pictured his peachy lips in a childish pout.

‘Yes, well, it is my job,’ I reminded him, reaching out to put my pencil back in its place, on the right of the keyboard. ‘So, Chris …’

‘So, Nicola,’ he teased, not at all put off by my clearly unenthusiastic tone.

‘Chris.’ I repeated.

Caroline gave me another quizzical look; I shifted a little under her gaze.

‘
Nicola
.’

‘Yes.’

‘Nicola, Nicola, Nicola,’ he went on, ‘my answer is …’ he paused, and I waited, refusing to give him any new distraction.

‘It’s a …’

I waited some more.

‘A … yes!’ he exclaimed grandly.

I exhaled quickly and swung into action. ‘Wonderful, that is wonderful. So, I’ll just book that in and let you know when you need to be there.’

‘You do that, Nicolllllla.’

‘I will. Okay, well, that’s everything!’ I said briskly, the end of the phone call in sight.

‘Oh, and Nicolllllla,’ he drawled in an irritating sing-song voice.

‘Yes, Chris?’ I gritted my teeth.

‘I’ll be seeing you soooon,’ he whispered. Then, with a roar of laughter, he hung up. I stared blankly at the receiver.

Caroline didn’t look up from her work. ‘Prick,’ she muttered and I gave a snort of laughter in reply.

Chapter Three

As usual, the morning swept by, the phone rang off the hook and I barely even had time to sip at my eleven o’clock glass of chilled mineral water. At five to one, I swivelled around in my chair. Caroline looked up.

‘It must be five to one,’ she smirked.

‘Ha ha ha, yes, you win.’

‘You are as regular as a watch.’

I shrugged. I liked routine! Caroline teased me about it but I didn’t get what was so bad about wanting to do things on time. I took out a cellophane sandwich bag from the top drawer of my desk.

‘Ooh, what are you splurging on today then?’ taunted Caroline, accustomed to my weekly meal plan. ‘Let me guess,’ she put both hands to the side of her head and massaged her temples in the manner of a psychic. ‘It’s … avocado salad with pine nuts?’

I silently produced my avocado salad with pine nuts from the container in the bag. I only glanced up when she cackled and yelled ‘Bingo!’ My cheeks flushed with heat. I lifted out my cutlery, getting up to wash it carefully in our miniscule kitchen, before popping a tea towel on my desk so nothing could spill. I sat back down and started eating my salad. As I chewed, my mouth watered at the thought of my chocolate mini roll, not to be eaten until one fifteen. I fantasised about the smooth case of chocolate, giving way to the succulent sponge underneath, made complete by the spiral of cream piped through it. I stared longingly at it over my lettuce.