You too, she replied, too nervous to add anything else in case it put him off somehow.
The next morning Rose decided she was ready to go back to work because if she took another day off, all she’d do was spend it on her phone or mentally list everything that was wrong with her or look at Milo’s Instagram Stories on the Instagram account (@artgirl809) she’d created at 4 a.m. after waking up at 2.30 a.m. and unsuccessfully trying to get back to sleep. He’d played in Vienna last night.
‘Hi, Minnie, feeling much better. Coming in today,’ she emailed as she was getting ready, slipping on a pair of Luce’s furry loafers that looked almost identical to the Gucci ones she’d seen all over Instagram.
For the first time since she started working for Minnie, Rose decided to put make-up on for work, balancing her coffee cup in between her thighs as she applied mascara on the Tube, using her phone screen as a mirror.
Minnie seemed relieved when Rose walked into the office.
‘Thank God you’re back,’ she said, rifling through papers on her desk.
‘Why, what happened?’
‘Jimson & James isn’t happy with Shania Twain as the performer.’
‘What? That makes no sense,’ said Rose.
Oliver grunted in the corner. ‘My one chance to dance to “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” in front of Shania herself …’ he mused, staring out of the window.
‘Apparently the CEO just saw her concert in Las Vegas and wants someone he hasn’t seen before.’
‘That seems a bit ridiculous.’
Minnie shot her a look as if to remind her that ridiculousness was the nature of this job.
‘Anyway, I’m about to meet Janet at MilkyWay to try to convince them to give us a name. Oliver, I want you to come with me.’
‘With pleasure,’ he replied, smiling at Rose as he stood up from his desk.
MilkyWay represented Milo. It was the agency Joss ran from the US; Janet was her deputy who worked in London. Rose took a deep breath that turned into an awkward yawn.
‘Tell her about the VIPs too,’ said Oliver.
‘Yes. So, Jimson & James are also concerned that there aren’t enough VIPs coming to the launch and are threatening to cancel.’
‘Cancel? Can they even do that?’ asked Annabelle. The party was in three weeks.
‘Oh yes,’ Minnie replied. ‘It’s not like Firehouse has the budget to fund these sorts of things any more.’
‘Right …’ Rose firmly put both hands on her desk, shifting into action mode. ‘What can I do?’
‘Did you ever hear back from Clara’s Martinis, or whatever her name is? It would be a big help if she said yes.’
‘Let me have a look in my email.’
Rose had been avoiding her email since the panic attack, if she could even call it that. She typed ‘Clara’ into the search bar and saw only the email she had sent.
‘Sorry, nothing yet,’ she told Minnie. ‘I’m going to follow up now.’
‘Thank you, darling. And how are you feeling?’
‘All fine, thank you,’ Rose replied, ignoring Oliver’s giggles from the corner, where he was tapping furiously on his phone. ‘Bad Deliveroo order.’
‘Poor you,’ Minnie said before putting on her coat. ‘Right, I’m popping to the bathroom. Oliver, meet me downstairs in five. And, Rose, look after yourself. Stomach bugs are the worst.’
‘Especially ones you get from pop stars,’ Oliver cackled as the door closed behind Minnie, eyes and fingers still magnetically attached to his phone screen.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ Rose muttered under her breath.
‘Oh, come on,’ said Oliver, finally looking up. ‘You’re not getting any sympathy from me because the rock star gave you chlamydia.’
‘Grow up,’ she replied, realising her hand was shaking as she snatched her phone off the desk and walked out.
‘You could probably sell your swabs on eBay for £100!’ he shouted behind her.
Everything was throbbing as Rose steadied herself against the corridor’s wall. She closed her eyes and tried to picture the beach. But it was just Milo’s face again, a collection of moving features and shapes. All of it twisting something inside her and producing a screeching sound, like a live lobster that had just been dunked into boiling water, gasping for breath.
‘Nice to have you back,’ chimed a soft voice to her left.
Rose jumped, opening her eyes to see Annabelle smiling sweetly at her.
‘Thanks, Annabelle, sorry,’ she replied, feeling her face flush red.
‘It’s okay. Hope you’re all right. Let me know if you need me to help with Clara.’
‘Thank you. Yeah, I’m fine. See you tomorrow.’
*
