Page 9 of Wild Tonic
“I guess I’ll head off then.” Alik stood up and put his guitar back in its case. “I’ll let myself out.”
The door banged behind him, leaving Nate alone. He screwed up his face, not understanding the situation. It only made him more determined to see Clem. Thinking about her brought him back to a good place. He reached for his phone and sent her a message. He was really looking forward to seeing her that night.
Chapter Seven
The dulcet tones of Dean Cameron reverberated around the small meeting room as the main players in Stelle D’Oro sat and discussed the next advertising campaign. These meetings always left Clem cold, talking about the boring—but nonetheless important—stuff, such as finances, production costs and stock levels.
She was only half-listening. Her mind focused on seeing Nate that night and wanting to make a good impression. So far, she wasn’t sure she had.
In addition to Dean, Clem, James the finance guy and Polly, who was one of the general gofers, there was a TV crew filming forPretty Rich Things.Clem already knew what was coming, she’d briefed the director on what they were going to be talking about and had to pretend to act surprised when Dean asked her to front the lingerie range.
Dean Cameron was ten years older than her, a protective brother, who also taught her a lot about business. When Clem had returned from the Fashion Institute of Design & Merchandising in Los Angeles after completing a two-year course in Merchandise Product Development, she’d begged him to invest in her idea. When she’d been approached by the reality show, it made perfect sense. Not only would the people watching the programme be interested in the success of the business, the audience demographic was a definite target for the brand. Even Dean, usually opposed such frivolity, could see the pound signs.
“Clem, let me tell you what I’m thinking for this,” said Dean, bringing her back to the present.
“Shoot.” Inwardly, Clem cringed. It wasn’t what she’d usually say, but there were certain things the programme told her to do.
Dean pulled out a sheaf of sketches, being careful not to show them to the camera. “This range is perfect for you to be involved with. So long as you don’t mind the provocative nature of the shoot.”
“Ugh, Dean, you’re my brother! I don’t really want to be talking about this kind of stuff with you!” Clem pulled a face, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Nor do I want you thinking about me like that.”
“Oh, Clem, as if.” Dean sighed heavily, exaggerating it for the cameras. “We’ve managed to get Cordelia Lyons to agree to photograph it, which is a definite coup.”
Clem pretended to think about it, poring over the sketches. After a few minutes, she looked up. “Why not? After all, it wouldn’t hurt to get in front of the lens for once.” She laughed, considering the irony.
“Great, I’ll speak with Cordelia and sort out dates.”
“And, cut!” The director paused. “Great stuff, guys. Clem, can we take a closer look at those drawings?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“No you cannot, you perv!” Clem turned them face down on the table, grinning. “If you’re good, I’ll let you come along to the photoshoot.”
“Er, no you won’t,” said Dean. “It will be a closed set.”
“Closed even for you,” replied Clem. “Like I said, you can’t think of me like that.” She shuddered.
The crew began to dismantle their equipment and shortly afterwards headed off. Dean, James and Polly remained.
“Right, now that farce is over, can we get on?” said James. “I want to go over the budgets for the next quarter.”
As he began to speak, Clem managed to keep engaged enough to appease her brother, although her attention was already back on the evening’s events. She couldn’t wait to get out of there.
Just over an hour later, she was allowed to leave. Dean had given her a whole heap of things to do and she stuffed the papers into her bag, without taking any interest in them. She called Leona, who although wasn’t coming along to the PA that night, was helping her to find a killer outfit.
“Can you be at my place in about half an hour?” Clem tried to balance the phone, her bag and the portfolio with the lingerie pictures in and lost it all, her phone crashing to the floor. “Shit!” She bent down to retrieve the device and saw it had a large crack across the screen, although appeared to be functional. “Leona? Are you still there?” There was nothing, except a message that was barely visible, which readlooking forward to seeing you tonight, Nx. A smile spread across Clem’s features. That was exactly how she felt.
It was close to ten thirty by the time Clem was in an Uber on her way to the Windsor nightclub, along with two of the other members ofPretty Rich Things: Bryon Thom the restauranteur, who seemed to fancy her and was always trying to persuade her to go out with him, like he did every to other woman within touching distance; and Finola Bright, the health and lifestyle guru who made a mint out of anti-ageing products. Clem wasn’t particularly keen on either of them. Finola didn’t drink for a start, so these appearances made little sense for her, and Byron could be a real lech. She hoped that Nate would be waiting for her.
“Bet there will be some right sorts there tonight,” said Byron. He squeezed Clem’s knee and she reflexively pulled away. “I don’t know why we haven’t been out together before now.”
“I do,” said Clem. “Because you’re a bit of a dick.”
Byron laughed. “You haven’t seen my dick.”
Clem fixed him with a look that would make any other man wither. “Trust me. I have no wish to.”
The other side of her, Finola snorted. She rarely made conversation with them when they were out as a group, looking down her nose as they drank and ate unhealthily—in her opinion. However, Clem knew that she shared the same viewpoint when it came to Byron.
“Ah, I’m sure I can change your mind,” said Byron.
