Stella listened to Emma with an almost eerie detachment. She was talking a good game and she was clearly confident in her abilities, but there was a tiny flicker of fear in Emma’s voice. For Stella, this was something new. Cate Glazer’s self-belief had never wavered for a second. She shouted and ranted and demanded the very best, never for a moment contemplating failure. But Emma was different. She was honest and forthright and she was painfully aware that the whole thing could go tits up at any time. I like her, she thought, reaching out to shake Emma’s hand.
‘OK, boss, see you in a week.’
It was Emma’s turn to gape.
‘Really?’ she replied.
‘Really!’ said Stella. ‘Only, can I ask for one thing?’
‘Name it.’
‘Can I have my own phone?’
10
Sitting in the meeting room of the book publisher Leighton Best, Cassandra Grand was having trouble keeping her temper. She did her best to ignore the plate of cheap biscuits and ugly mug of milky tea that had been pushed in front of her, she could even overlook the IKEA furniture and magnolia walls. But what was driving her to distraction was listening to the company’s art director Paula Mayle run through her so-called vision for the design of her new book Cassandra Grand: On Style.
‘I hope you like it,’ said Paula, putting down her mock-up board. ‘We think the pillar-box red jacket is very strong.’
Cassandra just stared at her. Who are these people? she thought. What do they do with their lives?
‘You’re obviously not aware that red was something of a signature colour for Diana Vreeland.’
‘Erm, Diana Vreeland?’ asked Jenny Barber, the book’s commissioning editor.
Cassandra rolled her eyes heavenward.
‘US Vogue editor 1963 to 71. One of the most influential magazine editors of the twentieth century. She was at least twenty years ahead of her time, completely understood the concept of brand – just as we must grasp it now. This book is a brand statement. My brand statement. Consequently, red is unacceptable. I would suggest lucite.’ She turned a wintery smile towards Paula. ‘It’s a platinum, Pantone number 1032.’
‘Paula, maybe you can look into that,’ said Jenny to her assistant, quavering under Cassandra’s gaze.
‘I’ve also been making a few notes as we go along,’ continued Cassandra taking a sip of water. She winced. It was semi-flat, sparkling mineral water.
‘Fonts. Helvetica is an absolute no. My readers are going to be extremely design-conscious and I think they would appreciate something more unusual. I will send you the number of David Sellers, one of the country’s best typographers, to create something new. We can use Tahoma
or Trebuchet as a template.’
‘So are you happy otherwi…’
Cassandra cut Jenny Barber off mid-sentence.
‘My name Cassandra Grand should be bigger than the title,’ she continued as if the interruption had never occurred. ‘Lift it several point sizes. Also when I said coffee-table book, that’s what I meant. Something of size. This has to be a book in people’s libraries, a gift for people to treasure.’ She held her hands apart to indicate the size of the book she had in mind. ‘Roughly the size of a large picnic basket.’
‘Well, I’m glad we’ve made progress here,’ said Jenny when she was completely sure Cassandra had finished. ‘One final thing though, Cassandra? When do you think we’ll be seeing any copy? For a September publication date we’re getting a little tight.’
Cassandra dismissed it with a wave.
‘Don’t worry about that. You’ll have it within the fortnight.’
She glanced at her mobile which was suddenly glowing an elegant emerald green. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me,’ she said politely, stepping outside the meeting room to collective sighs of relief from the Leighton Best editorial team. It was Lianne.
‘Can you come back to the office immediately?’
‘What is it? I’m at Linda Meredith for my facial in forty minutes.’
‘I think it’s important: Jason Tostvig and Greg Barbera.’
Cassandra caught her breath. Greg Barbera? What did the Managing Director of the company want? He was on the international board.