The Importance of Being Married (31 page)

“No it wouldn’t,” Anthony said, firmly. “And don’t worry about the money. I’ll pay. It’ll be an investment. Gillie my dear, you’re a genius. But how are we going to organize a huge wedding in a few weeks?”

“A few weeks?” Max emerged from his office and wandered over. “What’s happening in a few weeks?”

I felt myself reddening self-consciously. “The wedding,” Gillie said, rolling her eyes. “Keep up, Max.”

“Wedding?” Max frowned. “Whose wedding?”

Anthony winked at me; my blush deepened. “Just thought of something,” he said conspiratorially. “Give me a second.”

He disappeared into his office as Gillie shook her head impatiently at Max. “Jess and Anthony’s wedding, of course. Do you know nothing, Max?”

Max grinned. “Gillie, one day I really hope to understand your sense of humor. In the meantime I must confess to being completely baffled by it.”

“But it’s not a joke,” Gillie said with a sigh. “Ask her yourself.”

“Jess?” Max was staring at me in bewilderment. I swallowed with difficulty.

“We’re…we’re getting married,” I said, trying to make it sound less significant. “Anthony asked me on Saturday.”

“It’s true, Max,” Marcia said archly. “Quite the dark horses, aren’t they?”

“Look at her ring,” Gillie agreed, rushing forward to hold my left hand out. “Nice, don’t you think?”

Max looked at the ring, then opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out.

“Surprised us all,” Gillie said conspiratorially. “Except me, of course. Nothing surprises me. Nothing at all.”

“You’re…you’re getting married? To Anthony? Seriously?” Max looked at me intently. I could feel myself getting hot, feel myself wanting to say,
no, no, not really,
but I steeled myself.

“That’s right.”

“And you really think this is a good idea?” Max’s eyes were boring into me; I could feel his disapproval at the bottom of my stomach.

“Yes, I do,” I said defensively. “I think it’s a very good idea.”

“Right,” Max said, nodding, his face suddenly closed, disinterested. “Right. Well. Congratulations. I’m sure you’ll be…very happy.” He turned to walk back to his office, but he was stopped by Anthony, coming out of his office.

“All right, campers. Do we think we can organize a wedding in three weeks?” he said, turning back to me, a big grin playing on his lips.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Max said immediately.

“Three weeks?” Gillie asked, her mouth falling open. “Where are you planning to do it? In the local park?”

“Actually I was thinking about the Hilton Park Lane. There’s a lovely church around the corner for the ceremony, then we can pack everyone into the Hilton for a huge reception.”

“The Hilton?” I looked at him uncertainly. The Hilton Park Lane was one of the largest, most glamorous hotels in London. “Really?”

“Really!” Anthony said happily. “They’re a client. I just spoke to the chief exec.”

“And they’re not booked up?” Gillie demanded.

“Of course they are. They’re usually booked up years in advance. But they had a cancellation. Some bride got cold feet, apparently. But her fiancé’s loss is our gain!”

“But three weeks? You can’t organize a wedding in a month!” Gillie exclaimed. “It’s impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” Marcia said, shaking her head. “Is it, Anthony?”

Anthony winked. “Of course it isn’t.”

Max stared at him. “Anthony, are you insane? Three weeks? You don’t think that maybe you might be rushing things slightly? You don’t think that marriage is a rather major commitment that should be thought about, planned, prepared for?”

I felt my heart beginning to thud loudly. I was so close, so close to everything working out. So why was I willing Max to persuade Anthony it was a bad idea.

“Strike while the iron’s hot, that’s what I say,” Anthony said quickly, turning away from Max. I caught his eye as he did so, and thought I saw a look of unease, but immediately he grinned, and I realized that it must have been my unease, not his.

“Jess, you don’t think we’re rushing things, do you? You’re not scared to rush in where fools fear to tread?”

I shook my head. “Not at all,” I said, wishing I felt as sure as I sounded.

“A shotgun wedding,” Marcia said. “How romantic.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself.” Anthony grinned. “So, Jess. You wanted a quick wedding. Three weeks quick enough for you?”

I nodded. “Three weeks sounds great to me,” I managed to say.

“Well. Good,” Max said tightly. “I’m very glad for you both. And if three weeks is long enough for you to plan a wedding, then I’m sure that three minutes is long enough for you to prepare for our Project Handbag meeting.”

I looked at him uncertainly, then looked down at my watch. It was 8:57
AM
.

“Oh, right,” I said, suddenly remembering that we had a meeting at 9
AM
.

“Yes, right,” Max said, then turned around and marched back to his office.

Chapter 22

I SAT DOWN
at my desk and turned on my computer. Everything was going according to plan. Everything in my life was coming together seamlessly. I was happy. The funny feeling in my stomach was happiness, I was sure of it.

“So, you’re ready for the meeting, right?” I looked up to see Max, striding toward me. “Because it’s now. Like, right now.”

He looked at me expectantly, and I found myself looking away. “Sure,” I said lightly. “As far as one can be ready for a meeting.”

“What?” Max frowned. “What on earth do you mean? Of course you can be ready for a meeting.”

God, he had no sense of humor.

“I mean it’s fine,” I said. “Just chill out.”

“Chill out?” Max’s face twisted in distaste. “We have a meeting with Chester Rydall and you’re asking me to chill out?”

“Max, for God’s sake, Jess has got other more important things to worry about,” Marcia said, standing up suddenly. “Jess, ignore him.”

Max looked at her for a moment. “I think you’ll find she’s already mastered that skill,” he said levelly, then stalked off toward the meeting room. Sighing, I rolled my eyes at Marcia and followed him.

“Jessica Wild!” Chester, who was standing next to Anthony, grinned broadly at me as soon as I walked in. “I hear congratulations are in order!” He stood up and enveloped me in a bear hug. “I’m sure the two of you are gonna make a wonderful couple.”

I smiled as brightly as I could. “Thanks, Chester. Thanks very much.”

“Not at all. And I have to tell you, I’m very excited about this presentation. Folks back at the office are all waiting with bated breath to see what you guys have come up with.”

“They are?” I asked happily, shooting a triumphant look at Max. “Well, I’m pleased to hear it.”

“Shall we?” Anthony said, winking at me and motioning for everyone to sit down. “So, Jess—the future Mrs. Milton—let’s hear all the exciting developments on Project Handbag!”

He grinned at me and I felt myself going slightly pink. “Of course. Thanks, Anthony,” I said brightly. “What I wanted to do today was to revisit our thoughts on the campaign and to really establish what it is we want to do.”

Chester looked at me quizzically, then laughed. “Oh, it’s a joke,” he said.

“A joke?” Now I was the one looking confused.

“Yeah. Like you’d bring me here after all this time just to recap. Come on, Jess. I know you like a bit of drama when you’re presenting, but give us the meat. The research, the strategies. I’m real excited to hear it all.”

I cleared my throat. “The meat. Right.”

“Come on, Jess,” Anthony said encouragingly. “Tell us all about it.”

“Of course!” I said brightly. “Absolutely. Well, we’re here to discuss Project Handbag, so let’s get right to it. I’ve got some logos here for people to look at and lots of ideas on the campaign itself…”

I managed to pad it out for ten minutes or so, handing around the logos that Max had shown me, flanneling for all I was worth. And actually, I thought it went pretty well. I was Jessica Wiiild, after all. I smiled (no teeth), I flicked my hair, and I managed to sound (in my opinion at least) pretty convincing, even if I had nothing to say, even if I hadn’t actually managed to do anything on the account whatsoever.

“So,” I said to Chester expectantly, when I’d finished. “Do you have any thoughts?”

Chester rubbed his chin.

“Actually, I do,” he said, his brow creasing slightly. “I’m just not sure quite what I’ve learned today, to be honest.”

I nodded. “Learned?” I asked. I was getting a bad feeling in my stomach.

“I guess,” Chester said, a slightly pained look on his face, “I was hoping for more…detail, today. You know, facts and figures.”

“Facts and figures,” I said nervously. “Okay. Tell me what you want to know.”

“Great.” A look of relief filled Chester’s face. “Can you tell me, in terms of spend, what’s the proportion of print advertising we’re planning versus web advertising, and are we expecting direct results from this or just awareness raising?”

I smiled brightly. “Well, that’s a good question,” I managed to say.

“And what about take-up?” Chester continued. “What actual numbers are we aiming at in months one and two, and what kind of levels of investment? Because that’s going to help us crunch the costs of this.”

I cleared my throat. “Um, again, a very good question…”

“Also, I’d like an update on the celebrity endorsement you mentioned at the pitch meeting. What’s the state of that?”

Everyone looked at me and I felt myself getting hot.

“Right, well, yes, that’s a good point.”

“A point to which you have an answer?” Chester was looking at me curiously.

“Yes, absolutely,” I said, swallowing nervously. “Of course I have. Maybe I could e-mail it to you later today?”

“E-mail it?” Chester frowned. “I thought we were holding this meeting so we could discuss these things now.”

“Yes, we are. I mean, we were,” I found myself saying. “But…” I looked around the room. Anthony was looking at me with a slightly fixed smile on his face; Marcia was doodling on her pad. I didn’t even dare look at Max. I could feel his irritation from the other side of the table.

Suddenly Max pushed back his chair and I was forced to turn to him. “Chester, you’ve asked some important questions,” he said seriously. “Questions that we have been working through the answers to over the past couple of weeks, although without reaching firm conclusions yet. The truth is that before we present the detail to you, it would be far more worthwhile if you would tell us what it is that Jarvis Private Banking would like to achieve in terms of numbers, and then we can use that to plan the advertising spread. We know, for instance, that you are looking for a growth curve over the first six months as awareness builds—this isn’t a cut-price credit card, after all, but a sophisticated financial product that will take time to embed in people’s consciousness, but really we need a steer from you on exact numbers.”

Chester stared at him for a few seconds. “Right,” he said eventually, appearing slightly mollified. “Well, I guess that makes sense. We can crunch some figures and let you have them, if that sounds okay?”

“And then we’ll let you have some more detailed information on the logo and its use,” Max said quickly.

“Yes. Good. Very good,” Chester said.

“And then we can meet again in a couple of weeks?” Max suggested.

Again, Chester nodded. “Well, okay then. Sounds good to me.”

Immediately Anthony stood up and ushered him out of the meeting room, followed swiftly by Marcia.

Max and I regarded each other cautiously.

“Well, that was a bit intense,” I said, attempting a smile. “Glad you managed to convince him he didn’t need the answers to everything right now.”

“I didn’t convince him of anything. I just managed to stop him from firing us here and now,” Max said tightly.

“Firing us? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. The only ridiculous thing today was your presentation. What were you thinking, Jess?”