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Authors: Ilana Fox

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BOOK: The Making of Mia
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Lucy pushed the doors open and Mia remembered how overwhelmed she’d been when she’d first seen the editorial office at
Gloss
. Now, though, she looked at the girls behind the desks coolly. They were still elegant, still dressed impeccably in black,
but they no longer intimidated her. Mia knew most of them inside out, and she was going to use it to her advantage, as she
had done as Olivia Windsor with Madeline Turner. Very soon, she thought, the girls who used to boss her about would be answering
to her.

‘Madeline’s office is just down there, and over here is Joshua’s office.’ Lucy led Mia towards the glass-fronted office at
the back of the room, and as they got closer towards it Mia stared at his PA. Debbie, the girl who had spent most of her time
bullying her when she was Jo Hill, was now Joshua’s assistant. Debbie must have replaced her as soon as she had
been sacked, and Mia wondered why Madeline had agreed to it. As far as Mia knew, Debbie had never been promoted to Joshua’s
PA before because of her tendency to flirt with him.

‘Debbie, this is Mia Blackwood who is here for the features editor job. Is Joshua going to be long?’

Debbie looked Mia up and down, and Mia stared at her defiantly. Her blonde hair still looked unhealthy and brittle, and she
was wearing heavy orange foundation to try to disguise her bad skin. Even though she’d lost some weight, Debbie’s Top Shop
designer copies didn’t fit her body properly, and, most interestingly, her left hand was free of an engagement ring. Debbie
shot Mia a sour look and casually tapped something into her computer.

‘He’s in a meeting with design so he probably won’t be too late,’ Debbie said, her estuary accent more pronounced than ever.
She gave a melodramatic sigh. ‘I’ll go and get him, though,’ she said, as if she was extremely put out at leaving her seat.
‘He has an important meeting later so he can’t be running behind. In case you’re wondering, your interview shouldn’t take
too long,’ Debbie remarked pointedly, and she slowly got up from her desk and walked away.

‘She’s not the friendliest PA, admittedly, but Joshua likes her,’ Lucy said quietly. ‘She’s not a patch on his previous assistant,
though.’ Mia felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and she forced herself to smile at Lucy. ‘Look, here he
comes – grab me afterwards and maybe we can go for a coffee,’ Lucy said, but Mia didn’t hear her. She couldn’t stop staring
at Joshua as he swept past her while concentrating on entering something into his Blackberry.

Mia felt her heart thudding. She had dreamt about this moment for years, and now it had finally come: she was here, standing
in front of her nemesis, and she was about to do battle. While Joshua frowned at his Blackberry and
jabbed at its tiny keys with his fingers, Mia surreptitiously examined him from under her long eyelashes. How could she have
forgotten how attractive he was? Mia drank in his dark hair – with only a hint of grey sprinkled through it – his long Roman
nose, his strong chin and dark brown eyes. He had the remains of a tan from a recent holiday, and his shirt stretched across
his broad shoulders. Compared to Gable he looked positively beefy. Mia noticed that despite her impending job interview Joshua
wasn’t wearing a tie, and she could see the faintest smattering of coarse curly hair by his shirt buttons. He was aggressively
masculine, and coupled with the power he had and the respect he commanded, Mia could easily see why she’d let him walk all
over her when she’d worked as his PA. She wasn’t going to let him do it again, she thought, as Joshua looked up at her and
caught her eye. When he grinned at her, Mia swallowed hard and she realised her palms were sweaty.

At Joshua’s command Mia walked into his office, giving Debbie a cool, neutral smile when she whispered a staged, sarcastic
‘good luck’ to her just in Joshua’s earshot. Mia knew she didn’t need luck – she just needed to be herself, she thought, as
she took a seat at Joshua’s circular meeting table, which was already laid with crystal glasses of water, notepads and pens.
Mia spotted that one of the pens had bite marks around the top of it, and she quickly shot a disdainful look at Debbie through
the glass partition.

‘Lucy has already provided me with your cuttings, so there’s no need to go over old ground,’ Joshua said efficiently, shutting
the glass door behind Debbie’s retreating short skirt and knee-length boots combination, and settling back down behind his
desk. ‘And Madeline Turner has already granted approval for you to be features editor so long as you make the grade with me.
Not normal for an editor, I know, but Madeline is currently busy with some personal issues outside
of work, and she trusts my judgement implicitly.’ He stared at Mia coolly and tried not to look surprised. He hadn’t seen
a girl this hot – and with brains – for a long time. She vaguely reminded him of how Madeline used to be before he married
her. But Madeline Turner had never been this beautiful, and had never had such a knock-out body.

‘Tell me about your brother,’ Joshua directed, and as he settled back in his Eames chair his eyes wandered over Mia’s sheer,
silky top, her perfectly cut Chanel suit and her blonde hair.

‘Gable’s currently in Russia filming a classic black and white comedy with Uma Thurman,’ Mia said confidently, remembering
a conversation she’d had with Gable before he’d flown out to Moscow. ‘He’s playing the part of a man who works as a postman
but is secretly a KGB spy. One day he delivers a letter to a woman who he needs to gather information on, and he accidentally
falls in love with her. Gable’s looking forward to shooting the sex scenes, apparently, although he’s slightly worried Uma
will fall in love with him.’ Gable raised his eyebrows at this information, and Mia could tell he was lapping up the Hollywood
gossip. ‘Of course, as much as Gable finds Uma attractive he’s still going steady with Violet Compton, who, I believe, featured
in your most recent issue of
DG
magazine.’ Mia expertly led the conversation back to magazines, and Joshua nodded.

‘She didn’t push sales like Marina Stone did,’ he said, gesturing at the blown-up copy of
DG
’s cover that was still up on his office wall, ‘but she did well. Our UK readers are tired of the normal British babes – even
Jordan is going the way of Abi Titmuss since she hooked up with Peter Andre – so someone hot and exotic like Violet was just
what we needed. Do tell her thanks again for me next time you speak to her – she didn’t respond to my handwritten note but
I imagine she’s a busy girl.’

Mia nodded brightly, and she noticed Joshua looking at her hungrily. She tried not to blush.

‘I’m assuming you know people in Hollywood other than your brother,’ Joshua said bluntly, and Mia obediently ran off a register
of the Hollywood A-listers who Gable was friends with. Mia may not have actually met them, but she had access to them through
Gable, and that was the most important thing. Both she and Joshua realised that having Lindsay Lohan’s personal cell phone
number was like having a hotline to the prime minister, something that no amount of money could buy, especially if Lindsay
was rumoured to have a new part and her agent and PRs refused to take media calls.

Joshua leant forward and rubbed his hands together. He looked genuinely excited. ‘
Gloss
is keen – extremely keen, I must say – to introduce more celebrities like that into the fold. The UK public is already bored
of the Shayne Ward-type people of yesterday, and they want to identify with proper Hollywood glamour. Anyone can be Shayne
or that Anthony who won
Big Brother
, which was rather the point, I must say, but being someone like Uma Thurman or Scarlett Johansson is quite exceptional. They’re
the ultimate in aspiration, and they represent
Gloss
’s ideology far better than a pasty soap actress laden with puppy fat and bad skin ever could.’ Both Joshua and Mia involuntarily
looked at Debbie for a second, and then back at each other. Mia smiled.

‘I shouldn’t think talking to any of these people would be a problem, Mr Garnet,’ she said lightly. ‘Like I said in my original
letter to you, my contacts, combined with my feature ideas, are absolute dynamite. What I can bring to the magazine is something
tremendously special,’ she said, leaning forward so that a hint of tanned cleavage was showing. ‘Mainly because nobody else
is me, has my ideas, or can bring my expertise to your publishing company.’

Joshua stared at her for a second, and he raised his eyebrows. Mia could tell that she had him, but he was still going to
try to make her work for it. She looked forward to it.

‘What I want to know, Miss Blackwood,’ Joshua said, changing the tone of the interview so that he was dominating again, ‘is
what you are worth without your Hollywood contacts. Let’s pretend for a moment that you’re not Gable Blackwood’s little sister,’
he thought out loud, as Mia bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at the fact that she actually wasn’t, ‘and that you’re
just a normal girl who wants to be one of
Gloss
’s features editors. Why should I employ you?’

Mia leant back in her chair and held Joshua’s gaze. If she didn’t know the magazine inside out she’d have been nervous. ‘Because
I am the girl every
Gloss
reader wants to be – I am famous, but I have not had to do a thing to gain even moderate celebrity status. I am beautiful,
without being a bitch with it, and I am the smartest woman who has ever walked into your office. I could double
Gloss
’s circulation in six months without even breaking into a sweat, purely by changing the tone of your articles so that they
appeal to me, and not Araminta. I’m assuming it was her judgement that contributed to a drop in circulation over the last
six months.’ Mia saw a flicker of annoyance wash over Joshua’s face and she knew she was right.

‘And just how would you boost my circulation?’ Mia raised one eyebrow at Joshua, and as she let out a dirty laugh he clocked
his
double entendre
. ‘My mistake,’ he drawled. ‘How would you boost the circulation of my magazine?’

Mia grinned. ‘The same way that I would send the blood pumping around your body. I’d spend some time looking into what had
let the libido drop, and then I’d begin with a quick, sharp shock before slowly letting things reach a climax.’ Mia shifted
in her chair and turned from being a sex kitten into
a magazine professional. Although he didn’t show it, Joshua was impressed.

‘I estimate that your issue last month probably represented the biggest drop in your circulation figures yet. You may not
have the numbers, but I’m willing to bet an awful lot of money that an issue featuring “how to give him the best sex of his
life” and “what your diet says about you” wouldn’t have shifted as many magazines as the April edition from last year, which
contained a guide to the different fashion trends coming out of all the major cities in England and a piece about how to deal
with affairs that take a turn for the worse. Quite simply, your readers don’t want to be told who they are in such overt,
obvious ways any more. They can form their personal identification by reading between the lines, picking and mixing the different
voices that come out of the editorial so that each reader feels unique in who they are, separate to the girl who is sitting
on the Tube reading the same issue. And articles such as “what to wear to that crucial job interview” just don’t cut it in
2006.’

Joshua looked at Mia with a neutral expression on his face, and Mia continued. ‘It may surprise you, but girls already know
what to wear to job interviews. And on behalf of every reader of
Gloss
who is sick to the back teeth of being told what to wear, I’m telling you this so she never has to read that article again.
Are you paying attention, Mr Garner?’ Mia asked flirtatiously, and as Joshua nodded – wondering how such a firecracker had
found her way into his office – Mia crossed her legs. Joshua ached to look under the table to see if her skirt had inched
up her thighs, but he was far too smooth to do that.

‘Your average
Gloss
reader doesn’t want to be told that a pencil skirt and a cute cardigan will get her the job, but she does want to know how
she can dress to encompass all the things she knows she is and can be in a new job. She wants to
dress so that she stands out from the crowd without the interviewer knowing why. She wants to tap into the subconscious of
the man asking her the questions, and she want to leave with him trailing his eyes on her bottom as she walks out of the interview
room. She wants to look like she sparkles.’

‘So you would recommend an expensive Chanel suit,’ Joshua began slowly, ‘and a silk shirt flimsy enough so that the interviewer
can tell that your nipples are dark pink?’ Joshua didn’t take his eyes from Mia’s face, and she let a pause hang in the air
between them before softly chiding Joshua.

‘I wouldn’t recommend wearing any one outfit, Joshua,’ she said, quietly, with amusement rippling through her voice. ‘And
I certainly wouldn’t suggest that a
Gloss
reader dresses like me. She wouldn’t have the salary to afford it, or breasts that are so perky that they don’t need a bra.
But since you’ve been listening to me intently you would already know that.’

Mia grinned a devilish, sexy smile at Joshua, and then tore her gaze away from him, trying not to blush at the fact he could
see through her shirt, or worry that she had disagreed with him. She knew nobody ever told Joshua Garnet off.

‘I’d give the reader a selection of clothes, a pick-and-mix capsule wardrobe with the psychology behind each selection, and
how various high-flying employers rate each outfit. I’d interview the designers from behind the high-street labels to find
out what inspired certain lines, and I’d ask celebrities – proper ones, not the D-list – to explain what they would choose
to wear to portray various aspects of their character. You could almost run a whole issue based around the psychology of what
to wear for a job interview, but you would have to conclude, in the end, that it’s never what you wear but how you wear it,
and that not even
Gloss
could help with that.’

BOOK: The Making of Mia
9.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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