Holly affixed an absorbed expression on her face and zoned out to study Sasha. In her severe black dress and leopard-print shoes, Sasha Davis looked like a predator…
…a very glamorous, expensively scented predator, to be sure, Holly reflected; but one vicious enough to rip your throat out with her perfectly manicured, blush-pink nails.
“—so I’m assigning Holly to handle the interview.”
Holly blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I apologize for interfering with your customary wool gathering this morning, Holly,” Sasha said as she crossed her arms against her concave chest, “but I’ve just assigned you to interview Henry Barrington.”
“Henry…Barrington?” Holly echoed. She knew the canned bio and name of every pop musician, every actor, and every aristo and quasi-celebrity in London. Yet she’d never heard of Henry Barrington, and she had no idea who he was or what he did.
“He’s a well-regarded financial solicitor in the City. It’s rumoured he might stand for MP during the next election.”
“But I haven’t time to conduct the proper research on Mr Barrington,” Holly objected. She wondered suddenly if Sasha meant to sabotage her by assigning her to interview a dead-boring City solicitor with political ambitions.
No, Holly decided. Not even Sasha could be that petty and small-minded…
“We need a human-interest piece for the next issue.” She fixed a gimlet eye on Holly. “And you’re going to do it.”
“I don’t mean to argue, Sasha — but he sounds…well, dull. No one wants to read about legal briefs and casework. Besides, we usually feature actors, or pop singers, or—” she blanched at the laser-like glare that Sasha riveted on her “—or someone a bit more entertaining to the average British teenager,” she finished lamely.
“So now you, inexperienced and barely out of uni, presume to tell me how to do my job, Miss James?” The room grew quiet.
“I’m sure Holly didn’t mean to do that,” Kate interjected loyally.
Holly flashed Kate a grateful smile before returning her attention to Sasha. “Of course I didn’t! I only meant that it might be difficult to find any entertainment value in an interview with a City businessman. Especially since you want our articles to be—” she curled her fingers into quotes “—‘harder edged’. Besides, teen girls want to read about—”
“I know what teen girls want to read about.” Sasha’s voice was frighteningly calm. “Henry Barrington is your interview assignment. Tomorrow morning, nine o’clock sharp, at his office in the City. Be prompt. And don’t forget to ask the One Outrageous Question; I’ve emailed it to you, along with the address.” She leaned forward. “And make it entertaining.” Her narrowed dark eyes seared into Holly’s wide blue-grey ones. “Or, Miss James, you can find yourself another job.”
And she swept out of the conference room on a cloud of expensive scent and cold fury.
“Why does she hate me?” Holly moaned as they headed out of the door to grab a sandwich at the corner deli. “No matter what I do she finds fault.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Kate replied. “She hates everyone. I wonder who her new bloke is,” she mused. “She’s been getting a lot of personal calls on her mobile lately.”
“I hadn’t noticed. I’ve been far too busy trying to source cranberries for the Christmas crafts article. Have you any idea how difficult it is to find fresh cranberries in the middle of summer?”
“Yesterday she got a call and left halfway through the planning meeting,” Kate mused. “Valery was not happy.” Valery Beauchamp was Editor-in-Chief of BritTEEN magazine.
“Well, she hasn’t sacked Sasha yet. But there’s always hope.” Holly glanced up at the menu board. “Tuna on wholemeal,” she told the counterman, “with extra salad cream. And carrot sticks, please, no crisps. And a diet Ribena.”
She turned back to Kate. “I haven’t got time to research Henry What’s-his-name. And what’ll I ask him? I know the lyrics of every song the Arctic Monkeys ever did, but nothing about financial stuff. And the One Outrageous Question Sasha gave me — well, I can’t ask him that.”
“What’s the question?” Kate enquired with avid interest when they were both seated.
“You know I can’t tell you! She’d have my arse.” Sasha always gave each BritTEEN interviewer a single “Outrageous Question” to ask, a question that was kept under wraps until the issue went to print.
Kate shrugged. “Charm him! Make him laugh; get him to open up a bit. Then you can ask him the Question.”
“I don’t know…” Holly took a bite of her sandwich and took a dispirited sip of her diet Ribena.
“Look at the interview you got out of Dominic Heath! It’s what got you hired at BritTEEN, after all. No one’s ever been able to interview him properly. How’d you manage that, anyway?”
“I only know Dom at all because he and Nat were together for two years.”
“Nat? You mean Natalie Dashwood, his ex-girlfriend?” Kate demanded. “Crikey, Hols — you act as though you and she are bezzie mates! I didn’t know you ran round with ‘It’ girls and celebs in your spare time.”
“I don’t!” Holly said crossly, and bit into a carrot stick. “My dad is Nat’s godfather. And she’ll be my sister-in-law soon. So she’s practically family.”
“But she’s that department-store heiress, isn’t she? Dashwood and James? The stores almost went under last year.”
Holly nodded. She took a bite of her sandwich and reflected on the past tumultuous year. Her family had almost lost the stores; she’d learnt she had a half-brother, Rhys Gordon; and her sister Hannah became romantically involved with a working-class boy in the stockroom. Their father was furious and forbade Hannah to see him.
It was all very Romeo and Juliet…until a motorcycle struck and nearly killed Hannah, and all was forgiven.
Holly sighed. She’d had enough family drama to last a lifetime. Hopefully this year would be nice and dull.
“Wait a minute!” Kate’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t mean—? Are you Holly James, as in that Dashwood and James?”
“My dad and Nat’s grandfather are partners. She’s like a sister. Only nicer,” she added. Her own sister was a pain in the arse most times. “She blagged me the interview with Dom right before they broke up.”
“Shit, Holly! If your dad owns half of Dashwood and James, why are you working for this second-rate teen rag, then?”
“I have to make a living, just like anyone else. I can’t ride on my parents’ coat-tails any longer. And besides — I love working at BritTEEN.”
And mostly, she did love it. Even though she was little more than a glorified intern, and even though her father was always on about getting herself a ‘proper job’, and even though Sasha was a nightmare in high heels who had it in for her…
Despite all that, she loved the work. Besides, writing for the magazine was a proper job, she thought indignantly. It wasn’t her fault that it didn’t pay much.
“Well,” Kate observed as she pushed her chair back, “this interview’s a good chance to prove yourself.”
“I suppose.” Holly sighed and stood up. “But it won’t be easy. Henry Barrington probably has bifocals and a receding hairline. There’s no way to make this interview entertaining.”
“Put