“No!” she yelped. “He’s going to redevelop the Mayfair property, right?”
“Right.” Had I missed something?
“So, tell him you want to be the lead designer on the development.”
I snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t worked in six months. I have no portfolio. And I’ve never done anything on this scale. Or in this style.”
“Use your portfolio from your Manchester business,” Florence said.
“The clients want a very different look in Manchester—it’s not as cutting edge and the clients aren’t international. And I never did any new build stuff. You can do a lot more with a blank canvas.”
“Well it doesn’t matter anyway, because you don’t have to interview. You know you can do it. Can’t you? That would be worth going up to Scotland for.”
Florence was being ridiculous. I couldn’t just demand a job from a stranger. He’d laugh in my face. I couldn’t even convince my boyfriend that I was good at my job. What hope did I have that I could convince a high-end real estate developer? “Well, of course I could do it, but I have no proof to offer him. There’s no way—” Designing the interiors of one of these buildings was stuff my dreams were made of. All I had on my CV recently was recruitment. Even when I had been interior designing, I’d never taken on a project like the ones Wilde Developments did. I wouldn’t impress Beck with the interior spaces I’d done in Manchester.
“Beck said to consider what it is you want. And you keep telling me you hate your job. Sounds like a perfect solution.”
“What, resort to blackmail?”
“It’s not blackmail—it’s a business deal. He’s got something you want—you’ve got something he wants. It’s an exchange.”
“You could say the same thing about a prostitute and her client.”
“I’m not saying sleep with the guy—although I’m sure it will be tempting as all hell. He asked you to name your price to take you to a wedding. A job like that would be worth a week of pain, wouldn’t it? This is a chance to get your career back, your life back. Is a lifetime’s happiness worth a week watching your shit-for-brains ex marry a girl you thought was a friend?”
A job for a company like Wilde Developments would last for months and build my portfolio so I could go back to doing what I loved.
“In theory. But I’m not sure I’m capable of witnessing Karen and Matt together, of watching them get married.” The words stuck in my throat. Karen had known I’d wanted Matt to propose. I’d talked to her about it. She’d offered her advice, told me to give him an ultimatum. Were they together then? Had her advice been designed to break us apart rather than move us forward? Every conversation I’d ever had with her had a shadow cast over it. I’d thought she’d bury a body for me. But, now I knew that mine was the body she wanted to bury—so she could marry my boyfriend.
“Do you think it’s actually physically possible for me to go to that wedding? I think I’d throw up constantly or start uncontrollably screaming through the speeches or something. I don’t trust myself not to do something terrible.”
“If you go, I’ll come with you,” Florence said. “As moral support. And you never know, you mi
ght gain strength from knowing that you were using their wedding to get what you wanted. It’s an opportunity for you to take the power back. It’s the chance for closure.”
Powerlessness . . . Yes, that was a good description of what I’d felt over the last few weeks. My future had been snatched from me and I could do nothing about it.
I hated Karen. And I hated that I hated her. I didn’t want to be someone filled with bitterness and hate. I wanted to move on. I wanted that closure Florence promised.
Something to aim for would give me a focus rather than constantly ruminating over the two people I didn’t want to think about at all.
“And if you needed more icing on the cake, you get to go to the wedding with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. People will assume you’re a couple—in fact you can make him Dermot Mulroney. Get him to pretend to be your boyfriend—you’ll be winning at life.”
Florence made it sound like the deal was done. “So, you want me to convince Beck to make me the lead designer on a multi-billion-pound property development and pretend to be my boyfriend, and at the end of the week, I’ll have closure and be over my ex bff and ex-boyfriend betraying me?” Florence’s positivity was endearing but she was clearly drunk or crazy.
“Are you telling me you’d still refuse to go to the wedding if Genie-Beck made that deal?”
Of course, there was no way I could refuse the deal Florence was describing. She was right, I’d been making decisions and compromises as one half of a couple for a long time. I’d put Matt and my relationship before anything. But Matt and I weren’t in a relationship anymore. We weren’t just on a break. I was on my own. And I had to start thinking about my future. The recruitment consultancy job was going to be a temporary measure that turned permanent if I didn’t take decisive action.
Was it possible that Beck Wilde was my winning lottery ticket? My dose of medicine that would help me heal, help me get over the way Matt and Karen had betrayed me, and hand me a career-making job opportunity at the same time? “There’s no way he’d agree.”
“You won’t know if you don’t ask. What have you got to lose?”
It felt as if I’d already lost everything I’d ever had—my career, my relationship—but going to the wedding just might take my pride.
And it might just give me it back.
All I had to do was convince Beck I had the ability to take on a project like his with no track record, no proof whatsoever, then show up to the wedding of my ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend.