Page 52 of The Dicktionary Club

Wow, I was surprised. I knew more about the teenage mutant ninja turtle than the painter. I didn’t picture Philip as having much substance or culture. He seemed flashier, and egotistical with his high-class hotel chains, cocky attitude and mountain of wealth. It was hard to imagine him watching anything except his reflection in the mirror.

‘I didn’t have you down as an art guy. Do you have a favourite artist then?’

Philip’s phone began ringing. He scooped it out of his pocket, signalling to me that he’d just be a couple of minutes, and began chattering as he walked a few steps away. I could faintly hear aposh female voice on the other end. ‘I can’t talk just now, Amelia, I’m in a meeting,’ he said quietly, and then, ‘I’ll be there soon.’

I continued to wander around, not wanting to appear like I was eavesdropping, but also wondering who Amelia was. I guessed he probably had a million women at his disposal.

A few minutes later, he ended his call and joined me at an ancient Egyptian sarcophagus.

‘Has this guy helped with any great ideas yet?’ Philip asked, motioning to the massive stone coffin.

‘Nah, he looks smart, but he was useless.’ I laughed. ‘I should head back to the office now, I suppose, and get brainstorming.’

Philip sighed. ‘Yes, me too. Let’s head out.’

*

We travelled back to the city centre while Philip took a work call over his hands-free about a new hotel he was renovating in Berlin. He was still on the call when we pulled up outside Smart Reputations, but he raised his hand for me to wait and quickly hung up.

‘Sorry about that. It never stops.’

His phone began ringing again, and I couldn’t help but spot Amelia’s name pop up on the screen of his car, along with a small pink heart emoji beside it.

‘That’s OK. I’ll let you get that. Well, thanks again. Seriously, you have saved my life with that venue.’ I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the car door. ‘I owe you one.’

As I stood on the pavement, about to close the car door, Philip leaned over to the passenger side, sticking his head out. ‘You really do owe me one, eh?’

I rolled my eyes and shook my head at his cheeky reply.

‘I’ll pick you up around seven.’

My face dropped. ‘Sorry, what?’

‘Send me your address, and I’ll pick you up. You owe me one dinner at least,’ he replied confidently.

‘At least?’ I repeated, wondering what ‘at most’ would mean.

‘Oh, come on, Ella. I’ll help you brainstorm for the exhibition. I’m invested now,’ he said and smirked. ‘You can show me some of his paintings and I’ll give you my artistic opinion.’

His phone rang again, and my eyes automatically glanced at the screen. This time, Sienna was calling. ‘You better get that.’

I shut the Bentley’s door and headed into the building.

Chapter Eighteen

Ella

I scurried through the office to my desk to spill the news to my friends. Zola nudged Katy when she saw me, and they both spun their chairs around, eager to get the lowdown.

‘Well .?.?.’ I could see nervousness behind their eyes, and I immediately wondered if Andrea had been making threats behind my back that they weren’t telling me about.

‘Yes, well?’ a voice said behind me, and I turned, managing a welcoming smile at my boss, who had a face like a slapped arse once again.

‘Oh, good! You’re here, Andrea,’ I began. ‘So, I have secured the venue for the Alexander Cambri exhibition, which will take place on the thirty-first of July.’ I beamed proudly, and I noticed the wave of relief pass over my friends’ faces.

‘Where?’ Andrea asked immediately.

I stood up straight as I delivered my killer blow. ‘Kelvingrove Art Gallery.’

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