Page 11 of You Spin Me Round

‘I’m just saying, professional jealousy exists within marriages.’

‘Oh, now it’s jealousy? Are you kidding? Isabelle’s got Oscar buzz this year,’ Alex improvised. ‘Her performance as Amelia Earhart got a standing O at Caan.’

‘Hmm, not quite what I heard.’

‘What did you hear?’

‘That people were leaving early.’

‘That comes from Leigh, does it?’ Alex asked.

‘It comes from Erin. Who was actuallythere.’

‘Check the press release,’ Alex said.

‘The one written by the producers? Oh yeah, I’m sure that’s a great source of facts,’ Ivy said with a small snigger.

Alex did not like the way this conversation was progressing. She was on the back foot. This was the trouble with being beaten to the punch. Ivy had already heard an angle, and the first thing people hear tends to stick as the truth. Not that Ivy had ever cared all that much about the truth. She only ever wanted the most salacious angle that wouldn’t get her sued.

‘Look, it seems there’s two spins on this,’ Alex said. ‘So if you want to write a story about a nice actress who married a monster who lied to leave her marriage without fault, that could be click-worthy, sure. But I have to tell you, Ivy, I’m not sure if people would enjoy that as much as a story about a gold-digging cheat.’

Ivy barked a laugh. ‘Wow. Bit early to come in all guns blazing, isn’t it?’

‘I’m just telling you how it is. You do what you’re gonna do.’

‘I will. But I think you should keep me on speed dial because this is going to get ugly.’

‘I don’t do ugly. Isabelle just wants people to know the truth,’ Alex said, and she kind of meant it. Erin Porter had been a naughty girl, and even people like Isabelle, who had everything, deserved to be respected in their marriages.

‘Thanks for calling,’ Ivy said. ‘I’ll be in touch for fact-checking.’

‘Please do.’ They hung up.

Alex turned straight to her laptop and googled Leigh Calloway. She was newly promoted to senior associate at Carter and Simon. She’d been there for five years, according to the site. So that’s what she’d been up to.

Alex hadn’t googled her before, intentionally. She didn’t want to know what had happened to Leigh. She’d worked very hard not to think of her.

That was no longer a possibility. They were each other’s direct opposites and in each other’s orbits. Meeting was inevitable.

Alex cursed the universe. She didn’t need this complication. She was on the rise, and she could ride Isabelle’s divorce to the top. It would be like Holly Winter times a million. She couldn’t do that if she was thinking about beating Leigh, of all people.

Alex decided it was fine. Alex was doing well, and she had nothing to be ashamed of. When she came face-to-face with Leigh, it didn’t have to be a big deal. This didn’t matter. It was Alex’s moment to shine. She couldn't afford to be distracted by bullshit.

The spin war had begun, and Alex was ready to fight for her client, no matter who stood on the other side.

Six

Leigh sat in her new office, Jack’s old one. She’d been shown in by a senior partner this morning after he’d gathered the staff of Carter and Simon and officially announced her promotion and Jack’s retirement. Everyone already knew about the heart attack, so no one was very surprised. People had been coming in all morning to wish her hearty congratulations. Some of them might have even meant it.

Outside sat a PA, Henry. Henry was young and eager, and Leigh liked him. The only problem with Henry was that he was shockingly clumsy. He’d already spilled tea on himself and exploded a pen in his pocket, and it wasn’t even lunchtime. But Leigh found his ineptness quite comforting because she was suffering from serious imposter syndrome.

Here she was, in her own office, taking the next step in her career, but she couldn’t shake the feeling it wasn’t fully earned. It had been an accident. Whatever Jack said, a part of her was waiting for him to come back and tell her he’d changed his mind, and would she get the hell out of his seat?

But she was here, and he wasn’t. So, there was only one thing she could do: operate on a policy of WWJD—what would Jack do?

Well, first of all, she needed to seed the narrative. Get ahead. To start, Jack would call some journalists (loosely defined) who sold celeb gossip to the bigger publications. Jack had a Rolodex, a real paper one, and it had a list he’d continued to update.

When there was time, Leigh needed to transfer the information to digital. Wait, she wouldn’t do that for herself, would she? It would fall to Henry. Not today, though. The way it was going, he’d probably end up flushing the Rolodex down the lav.

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