This was not a big deal. He was just another client.
A brilliant addition to her growing list of success stories. As she’d reminded herself repeatedly in her middlingly convincing pep talk on the train that morning.
If she focused on that—and not their past—she’d have no problems at all. And with that in mind, she deliberately smiled her most welcoming smile.
Jake raised an eyebrow, but she chose to ignore that.
‘So, what we’re going to do this morning is have a mock interview. I’m going to ask you a few questions, and film your responses. Then we’ll watch the footage back together, and I’ll identify areas where I can assist you.’
Jake looked less than enthusiastic, but at least he didn’t argue.
He continued to convey general lack of interest as she set up the tripod, although he did perk up a little when the camera came out.
‘What kind of camera’s that?’ he asked as she bent and fiddled with the equipment.
Ah. Always such a techno geek. Trust Jake to be interested in this shiny, state-of-the-art example of technological wizardry.
‘It’s a digital SLR that also shoots video,’ Ella said. ‘Normally when I do these shoots with clients I have a proper set-up with a journalist, lights and a cameraman. Helps to create the sense of a real interview. But for today, this will do.’
He frowned. ‘There wasn’t time to organise all that?’
‘I thought you’d prefer something a little more low-key,’ she said, although until right this second she hadn’t truly considered why she’d thought that.
‘Thank you,’ he said gruffly, surprising her.
She finished securing the camera and met his eyes across the wide glass table. ‘No worries.’
He didn’t manage to crack a smile—but something had definitely softened in his gaze. Well, at the very least, now he looked marginally less likely to grunt his way through the upcoming mock interview.
Soon everything was in place, Jake remaining behind his desk with Ella and the camera across from him. She’d considered relocating to the comfy-looking couches across the room, but figured that a desk between them was probably the better idea. She didn’t need a repeat of that awkward moment at the door. Or even her reaction to his touch when he’d shook her hand yesterday. Maximum distance between her and Jake could only be a good thing for her sanity.
‘Let’s start with a few warm-up questions, just to get you started. Pretend I’m interviewing you in a television studio.’ Ella put on her best interviewer voice. ‘So tell me, Jake, what did you have for breakfast?’
He blinked. ‘Is this really necessary?’
Ella nodded. ‘Trust me. It’ll help you get used to the camera.’
‘Toast,’ he said.
‘Interesting. And what did you have on your toast today, Jake?’
‘This is riveting,’ Jake said, with absolutely zero expression. ‘Surely we can do better than this?’
In reply she just watched him steadily, and finally he sighed, and then spoke. ‘Vegemite and cheese.’
Obviously, some things never changed.
‘Tell me a little more—’
‘What are you grinning about?’
Ella hadn’t even realised she was smiling. ‘Pardon me?’
‘Come on, share the joke.’
He didn’t sound defensive—a welcome change. Just curious.
‘Oh. I guess I was remembering you and your breakfast feasts. I thought you had hollow legs, the amount of bread you went through.’
Ella carefully rearranged her face back to serious interviewer. They needed to focus—plus she was not in the habit of talking about old memories. Ever. ‘As I was saying, tell me a little—’
‘Do you still have the same breakfast? It was Froot Loops, right?’
He’d remembered. Before she could stop herself, she smiled again—but bit her lip as soon as she realised.
How dumb to be pleased he remembered something as stupid as her favourite cereal.
‘Of course not,’ she said briskly. ‘It’s pure sugar. I’m careful to follow a low-fat, low-sugar, whole-food diet.’
‘That sounds terribly boring.’
To be honest, it kind of was. But it was the only possible way she could stay a size ten. And she wasn’t about to give that up.
She shrugged. ‘You’d be surprised how varied and satisfying it is—and it’s so good for my health and well-being.’
Now she sounded like a rather dodgy advertisement for a miracle weight loss solution.
‘Look, let’s get back to the questions. Tell me—’
‘New breakfast. New name. What’s with the Ella thing, anyway?’
She sighed. ‘Jake, I’m not the one being interviewed here.’ She tilted her head in the direction of the camera beside her. ‘Remember? This is about you.’
He shrugged unapologetically. ‘Consider this part of the warm up? Besides, I would’ve thought you’d like me to build a rapport with my interviewers.’
She couldn’t really argue with that. Then he put his palm to his chest. ‘Hand on my heart, I promise I won’t interrupt you again.’ And then he smiled a knee-melting smile that made her seriously glad she was sitting down.
Words tumbled from her mouth. ‘I never liked the name Eleanor. I changed it by deed poll years ago.’
She blinked. Damn. She shouldn’t be talking to Jake like this. After all, he’d lost the right to ask her personal questions a long time ago.
More importantly, she reminded herself, he was her client.
Armada wasn’t paying her to sit around and chat.
On the plus side—if he smiled like that at a female interviewer, Ella reckoned he could make anyone forget whatever curly question they’d thrown at him.
Ella dismissed the way her body instantly tensed at that idea as pure frustration, and not ridiculously placed jealousy related to hypothetical future interviews.
He nodded. ‘And you changed pretty much everything else, too, I’ve noticed.’ His gaze travelled over her—her hair, her impeccably made-up face, her perfectly fitted outfit.
Though she knew it was terrible, she all but preened under his gaze.
See, I can scrub up okay. I’m not a clumsy schoolgirl with bad hair any more.
But—strangely—he didn’t look all that impressed. If anything, his expression was … disappointed?
Which was crazy. No one could possibly argue that she hadn’t improved every single aspect of herself since the last time she’d seen Jake. She’d changed everything—and for the better.
She shifted awkwardly in her seat, then stilled her fingers when she realised she was plucking absently at the fabric of her skirt.
‘Jake, can you tell me what makes the new Armada phone so special?’
He raised an eyebrow at the swift change of subject, but, thankfully, didn’t call her on it.
Instead, almost instantly, he became more animated. He launched into a detailed—far too detailed, really—description of the phone, and his pet topic the operating system, which, she knew