Page 10 of Love Is: Two Bodies One Soul

‘We had some rare old times when we were young, didn’t we? How you ever got a double first is a wonder to me. Bloody genius, that’s what you were. You know I was jealous, don’t you?’

‘No.’

‘Well, I was. My babe-magnet friend – brainier than anyone else I knew – girls dropping at your feet, everything going for you.’

‘Things aren’t always as them seem, George.’

George ignored Owen’s interruption and carried on down memory lane. ‘I’m sure you were pissed on finals day, but then you could always chuck the booze back and still function. Remember?’

‘I remember the rare old hangovers,’ Owen said, giving up on his attempt to make George see him for what he really was. Evidence, he decided, he couldn’t function any longer, drunk or stone-cold sober. Probably never could.

‘Here, get this down you.’ George held out the steaming coffee mug. Owen focused on it and grasped it, using both hands to control his shaking.

George muttered, ‘Jesus Christ, Owen.’

Steadying the coffee against his chest, Owen glared at him. ‘If you’re going to lecture me, you can stuff your job. I’ll go now.’

George backed off, his hands held up defensively. ‘Sorry! No lectures. I promise.’ He grabbed a bourbon biscuit, bit into it, perched himself on the side of the desk, still chewing thoughtfully and said, ‘Let’s talk about the job. I’m hoping you’re free to start immediately.’

Owen focused on lifting the mug to his mouth. Good. Got there without spillage. It was nearly too hot to swallow, but a blast of caffeine flowed through him. He took another mouthful, grateful for the rich, bitter heat of it. What was that George had just said? Start immediately? Was he joking?

George took another bite of biscuit and continued, ‘If you are. I’ll get Kate to arrange the paperwork. You’ll be on the staff payroll, not freelance. Three-month initial contract.’

‘I haven’t said I’ll do it yet.’

‘Come on!’ The small remains of biscuit went flying from George’s fingers as he slammed the desk. ‘Jeez, Owen! I’d forgotten how bloody contrary you can be.’

‘You promised no lectures.’

‘Yes, I did, didn’t I?’ George frowned. ‘Look, I know there was a time when you were too busy to consider working for a magazine like WIV. I understand. It’s not … well, not the sort of upmarket publication you normally write for, but—’

‘Beggars can’t be choosers.’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘No, I did.’

‘Look.’ George moved to sit behind his desk, snatching another biscuit on the way. ‘I’ll be straight with you, Owen. I need you to say yes. This morning, I told Kate it would take a miracle to save this magazine. I was wondering how to get in touch with you. Then there you were in the pub! My miracle.’

‘I can’t save your magazine.’ Owen suddenly found the energy to stand. ‘I’m sorry, George. I don’t want to disappoint you. I wish I could help. I wish—’

‘You can. You’re the best in the industry.’

Owen grunted, then stared into his coffee. This was a pity offer, tactfully wrapped in a cry for help to preserve his Kingsley pride. Good old George, maybe still a friend, after all.

As if he’d read Owen’s thoughts, George said, ‘Listen, this isn’t bullshit. I know you’d see straight through that kind of thing in a nanosecond. The truth is the magazine is going under.’

Waiting for complete honesty, Owen stared at George.

George stared back. Seconds ticked by, then … ‘All right. I admit I hadn’t been wondering where you were this morning. That was a lie. But the only one. I promise. I was too busy trying to extract time and money from the Blanchard brothers to be thinking about you. The brothers own this publication.’

‘I know.’

‘Course you do. Very few people you don’t know in this industry. Anyway, I got the extra funding, but it wasn’t enough, and it’s time-limited. They’ve only given me until the new year to turn WIV around.’

‘Still don’t see why you want me.’

‘You’re a big name.’

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