Page 59 of The Dicktionary Club

Chapter Twenty-One

Ella

The following day, I woke up on my sofa to the sound of my alarm ringing out from my bedroom, still wearing the navy dress from my extremely short date with Philip. I rubbed my eyes, dragged myself up and headed through to switch it off. What a night, I thought. But then I felt a smile appear on my face, remembering my breakthrough with the campaign. I couldn’t wait to continue what I’d started, to tell the girls my ideas and watch the emotions play out on Andrea’s smug face when I finally had the results this project deserved. I brushed my teeth, combed through my hair, and got myself ready before heading to the office.

When I arrived just before nine, most of the staff were standing in line for our usual debrief, so I scurried across the floor to my desk, lifted the mood board I had spent hours creating last night, then squeezed myself back into the firing line. There was no sign of Katy, but Zola stood casually slouched as Andrea began.

‘Good morning to everyone who made it here in time,’ she began.

Zola and I shared a look. It wasn’t like Katy to miss the debrief. I pulled my phone out to check for any messages –no new notifications.

‘I’m not interrupting you, am I, Ella?’ Andrea scowled at me.

Shit, caught. I tossed the phone behind me onto my desk. ‘Not at all!’ I smiled back.

‘Let’s start with you, shall we? What has Miss Banks been doing all week?’ Her tone was so condescending. She was setting me up for a fail, but not-to-fucking-day, you arsehole!

I cleared my throat. ‘Well, as you know, Andrea, yesterdayIsecured Kelvingrove Art Gallery for Alexander’s exhibition.’ I paused for gasps of praise from my peers, but none came.OK, tough crowd.‘And I’ve put together a plan for this event that I think could attract a lot of attention.’ I turned over my mood board, revealing it first to Andrea and then slowly turning it to ensure everyone else could see.

‘What’s this?’ There was a smirk forming on Andrea’s small-lipped face.

‘It’s my mood board,’ I answered.

‘Oh.’ She pulled her glasses down slightly, glimpsing my work momentarily before pacing her line of minions. ‘Is that what you call it?’

‘Yes, and I have chosenThe Royal Painteras a theme. I’m throwing a royal ball celebration in honour of this exhibition. Here.’ I pointed to the cutouts of dainty canapés I’d found online on Gordon Ramsay’s latest restaurant’s site, then stuck to the board. ‘I want expensive, themed canapés and champagneorprosecco if I have to watch the budget. You can see I’ve gone with the classic military red and gold décor to represent royalty. I’m also planning to have violinists playing throughout the night, but their tunes will be poppy rather than classical to give that contemporary crossover vibe. We’ll use our in-house photographer and videographer to create some really exciting content for all of Alexander’s social media accounts.’

‘This all sounds riveting, Ella. But who is going to come? It’s a very large venue, after all. Have you thought about the guest listand how many people it will take to fill a venue of that calibre?’

I tried not to bristle. Andrea seemed almost keen on the idea of me failing.

‘Yes, of course. I’ve sent invites out to a whole bunch of people already, from artsy home account DIY vloggers to Glasgow School of Art professors, from major news outlets to small boutiques and art shop owners. But I will also focus onmyregular client demographic as well.’ I watched everyone’s smiles fade into confusion.

‘Your usual demographic is young influencers in the beauty and fashion markets,’ Andrea said with an unmistakable snigger. ‘This isn’t their vibe, Ella.’

‘My plan is to pack the venue with TikTokers and influencers, who will, in turn, promote Alexander’s artwork to a much broader audience. These girls have the largest followings in the city, and they love an event. Especially a royal ball in the grandeur of Kelvingrove – think of the content!’

Andrea’s head tilted as if she was at last beginning to take my proposal seriously.

‘We’ll also be holding a competition,’ I continued. ‘We’ll get the guests to post Alexander’s artwork on social media, make a bid and the person with the highest bid will receive a personalised painted portrait of their choice. The media and press invite templates are already made up, and of course I would love it if each of you could send them out to all of your contacts.’

I finished and gazed around at my colleagues; I had to admit, they seemed impressed. Zola was nodding her head encouragingly.

‘Well .?.?.’ Andrea sighed.

The room was quiet. My palms were sweaty with anxiety.

‘Finally, you have devised a half-decent pitch for this, Ella. Next time, I don’t expect it to take a month.’

I felt my face turn blotchy as she moved swiftly to the rest of the team. That was it? After all my stressing and planning and staying up till two in the morning – after connecting with Philip Khan and landing the most insane venue, for free? Why could she never just say ‘well done’? Why did she always have to criticise? Whywas I stayingin this shitty fucking job run by a woman who was surely fucking Kim Jong Un’s favourite mini dictator? I was running over and over in my head all of the crazy, hurtful things Andrea had done in the past, shaking with anger inside until I felt a nudge from Zola.

‘Are you OK?’ she asked. ‘That was blinding, y’know.’

I glanced up. Around us, everyone was dispersing. The meeting was over and I hadn’t even noticed.

I could feel myself quivering. ‘I’m fine,’ I lied, not wanting to risk getting upset in front of the whole office.

‘Babe, you smashed it! This royal ball thing you got going on.Like what?You will be the talk of the place! It sounds amazing.’

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