Page 70 of The One That I Want

‘She’s a… she’s a—’ Bex stammers. She looks over at Poppy, who raises her hand in a small wave, and her eyes widen as her mouth stretches into a perfect ‘O’ of comprehension. Then she throws back her head and, one hand to her chest, starts cackling with laughter.

‘Bex,’ says Anjali firmly.

Bex stops immediately and clears her throat. ‘I’m sorry, I just… That article about Elle Bliss and Lorenzo and then the advice column… It all makes sense now and I?—’

It’s comical how forcefully the second realisation lands. ‘Oh my god. Did you match Elle Bliss and Lorenzo?’ she asks, her voice shrill. ‘You did, didn’t you? God, that’s so exciting. I want to heareverything.’

I catch Anjali’s lips tightening with distaste, signalling that it’s time to take this discussion anywhere other than her office.

‘Let’s head back to my office and discuss this further,’ I say, standing and shepherding Bex and Poppy out into the hallway.

‘Oh, and Greta,’ says Anjali.

I pause in the doorway. ‘Yes?’

‘After Bex calms down, can you please have her edit your first article? I’d like it on my desk by noon tomorrow.’

‘Of course,’ I say, ‘Actually, I’ve got two ready to submit.’

‘Very good.’ She smiles at me politely, then puts her reading glasses on and opens her laptop.

I leave, feeling like I’ve just been dismissed from the principal’s office. It’s not that Anjali seemed cross, butsomething was off about how we left things just now, which leaves me feeling unsettled.

I arrive at my office to find Bex bombarding Poppy with questions. I should have anticipated that she’d be ultra-curious about Poppy’s job once she learnt the truth, but I need her focussed, not fangirling over the engagement of two fashion designers.

‘Says you,’ I rebuke myself softly. ‘Several weeks ago, you were doing the exact same thing.’

‘What was that?’ Bex asks me.

‘Nothing, never mind. Right, if you’ve finished interrogating Poppy, we need to get to work. Anjali wants to see the first two articles by lunchtime tomorrow. I’ll email them to you now.’

‘Oh, of course,’ Bex says, popping out of her chair. ‘And how do you prefer your feedback?’ she asks. ‘Tracked changes and comments, or I can send it in paragraph form, if you like?’

As Bex has never been my editor before, I understand her reticence in asking. This is a significant shift in our power dynamic.

‘Tracked changes and comments is fine,’ I reply.

‘Perfect,’ she says with a grin. ‘And thank you again for this opportunity.’

‘As you told me this morning, you’ve earned it.’

She beams, but then she glances at Poppy and her smile falls away. She not-so-subtly jerks her head towards the door, telegraphing that Poppy should leave.

‘Poppy’s staying for a bit,’ I say.

‘Ah, okay.’ Bex gives me a terse smile and pulls the door closed after her.

‘That went reasonably well,’ says Poppy when Bex is gone.

Falling into my chair, I expel a heavy breath, then send her a wry smile. ‘You have a very strange idea of “well”,’ I say.

‘Was it your assistant editor behaving like a teen at a Taylor Swift concert or your boss sending us away as if she were a monarch weary of the peasants?’

‘How did you— You’re very astute about people’s behaviour and relationships, you know.’

She shrugs immodestly.

‘Anjaliwasa little taken aback by Bex,’ I say, stifling a giggle.

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