Page 8 of Shout Out To My Ex

‘It’s true!’ I sing out, wiggling my bum and shimmying my shoulders – my happy dance. Delighted exclamations ripple around the room and Zara and Gaz join in on the dancing. Prue, who at twenty-two is the youngest, watches us, clearly amused by what the ‘old people’ are doing.

‘Whichmeans,’ says Cassie, talking over the excitement, ‘we have exactly eighteen days to finish the collection.’

‘Fuck,’ says Gaz candidly. They slap a hand over their mouth. ‘Oops, sorry,’ they say through their fingers.

Eighteen days to finish this collection does warrant at least one ‘fuck’ but as their fearless leader, I need to spin that into ‘hell, yes’.

I stop dancing and address the team.

‘Okay, sure, that’s nine less days than we thought we’d have, but you are one of the most talented, clever, hard-working teams there is or ever has been and?—’

‘Nice way to butter us up,’ Prue says with a laugh.

‘Okay, you’ve caught me,’ I say. ‘Doesn’t make it any less true, though.’

I look at each of them in turn. ‘But we can only accomplish this as a team and it will be even longer hours and harder work for the next few weeks.’

Murmurs and looks pass amongst them, the excitement building even more.

‘So, what do you think?’ I ask.

Zara looks to Gaz and Prue, who nod enthusiastically, then back to me and Cassie. ‘We’re in!’

‘Brilliant!’ I reply, turning to grin at Cass with another little shoulder shimmy.

She steps around me, all business again. ‘All right, everyone. Back to work, please. Elle will come around to each of you for a status check.’

The team dissembles, the bustle of the workroom resuming.

‘And what about you?’ I ask Cass quietly.

‘You can catch me up at home. I’ve got to be somewhere.’ She crosses to her desk and collects her handbag.

‘Where?’ I ask.

‘Um, just that side project I mentioned last night. I’ll tell you more if it eventuates.’

‘Wait, wasn’t Fashion Week the side project?’

‘Er, nope.’ She gives me a smile-and-nose-crinkle combo, then rushes past me, leaving me confounded.

Poppy

‘Hiya, Cassie. I’m Nasrin and this is my colleague, Poppy.’

Cassie is a tallish woman with a mane of glossy brown hair, a warm smile, and dimples. As we enter the meeting room, she stands and leans across the table to shake our hands in turn. We exchange hellos then sit.

‘Thank you for seeing me,’ she says to Nas.

‘Course. Toves and me go way back. We’ve been mates since school days.’

‘We’ll always meet with a referral from a friend,’ I chime in.

‘Brilliant.’ That dimpled smile appears again. ‘Tova says this is one of the best agencies in London.’

‘It’sthebest, actually,’ teases Nasrin, her eyebrows lifted.

This clearly catches Cassie off-guard and for a moment, it seems as if she’s going to backpedal. That is until Nasrin flaps her hand and breaks into a grin.

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