Page 15 of Someone Like You

Our boss, Claire, was surprisingly amenable to giving Raff time off for this interview – and for me to accompany him to ‘keep an eye on things’. But it must be good for her to hitch the firm’s wagon to Raff’s rising star, especially as it’s well known he’s a marketing director at Global Reach.

Of course, she has no idea he’s leaving.

‘Do I look all right?’ He fidgets with the hem of his bright-red acrylic Christmas sweater. If he wore it to the Rivera family’s Ugly Christmas Sweater Party, he’d probably win first prize, but I’m not telling him that. He’s nervous enough.

‘Super festive,’ I say reassuringly. ‘And don’t worry, I’ll be there the whole time. I’m sure it’ll be great.’

‘Thanks for coming with me,’ says Raff, sending a nervous smile my way.

‘Sure.’ I don’t add that it’s the least I could do when I’m the one who talked him into it. ‘Consider me your personal marketing manager. We’re launching a new brand, and it just happens to be you.’

‘Ugh,’ he groans. ‘You know I hate being the centre of attention.’I sure do.‘At least those bloody radio interviews are behind me.’

‘Seriously, it’ll be fine. I checked out Greta Davies, and she’s considered one of the best in the biz. And apparently, she’s super sweet.’ According to Poppy, anyway, but I omit that part.

‘Hmm,’ he murmurs, clearly unconvinced.

The cab pulls up outside a stylish building on the Strand, one with a seamless blend of the original architecture and modern updates. It’s a stark contrast to the glass and steel behemoth Raff and I work in. Though the Shardisa cool building and I love that part of London, especially as it’s teeming with great options for after-work drinks.

‘Ready?’ I ask.

‘Nope, but let’s go.’

He opens the door, unfurling his tall frame onto the sidewalk, and I follow him out the kerbside door.

The receptionist on the ground floor gives us visitor passes and directions to a third-floor conference room. When we arrive, we’re greeted by an attractive, petite, curvy woman with wavy red hair worn in an up-do.

‘Hello, Greta Davies, lovely to meet you, Rafferty.’ They shake hands. ‘And you must be Gaby.’

‘Hi. Thanks for letting me tag along.’

‘Oh, no problem at all. A lot of interviewees bring along someone from their team.’

She must be referring to actual celebrities who have actual teams. Raff and I exchange an amused glance.

‘Let’s sit, shall we,’ says Greta, and we do, taking the three chairs at one end of an enormous conference table.

‘Can I just say right off the bat, I’m ahugefan,’ she says effusively. ‘Sucha well-deserved win. That wedding cake –spectacular.’

Raff breaks into a grin, his anxiousness melting away in an instant.Nicely done, Greta, I think. It’s a skill being able to set a stranger at ease – and so quickly. Clearly, he’s in good hands.

‘Thank you,’ he replies to the compliment. ‘Just something I’d been working on for a while. But you never really know until the day if it’s going to come together.’

He’s being modest – he spenthoursdesigning and practising that cake – but maybe that will come up during the interview: Raff’s dedication to his artistry.

‘Right, so let’s get you down to hair and makeup, then off to wardrobe,’ she says.

‘Wait, did you say “makeup”?’ he asks.

‘Yes – for the photoshoot.’

I knew they’d be taking a photo to publish with the article, but a fullphotoshoot? Then it hits me – this isNouveau, not a local paper – of course there’s a photoshoot.

Greta must clock the panicked look on Raff’s face. ‘I assure you, the makeup’s very natural – only a little touch-up for the cameras so you don’t look washed out.’

‘Okay,’ he says, shooting me a look that says, ‘Please help me’. All I can do is shrug. Neither of us are rookies in this area, but it was a rookie mistake on both our parts not to have thought about this before.

‘And the fashion editor has pulled some great looks for you,’ she continues, throwing fuel on the make-Raff-as-uncomfortable-as-possible fire.

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