Annie Lyons - Life Or Something Like It

Her phone buzzed with a call. She glanced at the ID and swiped to answer immediately.

‘Will. How are you?’

‘I’m hoping I’ll be a lot better after this call.’ Will Bateman didn’t do niceties. He was the most powerful football agent in the country and time really was money in his world. Hemingway Media was organising the launch of a new coffee for the Daily Grind coffee shop chain and Will’s biggest football star, Alvarro Diaz, was going to front it.

‘I’ll do my best.’

‘Can you assure me that there will be no cock-ups on Thursday? I’m taking a big punt using Hemingway and if it goes pear-shaped, it will be my arse on the line too.’

Cat took a deep breath. ‘Everything is in place. Daily Grind love working with Alvarro and we’re already getting a huge response on social media to the “From Bean to Cup” promo film.’

‘I’m more concerned about Alvarro behaving himself,’ admitted Will.

Cat shared these concerns. Alvarro was the latest in a long line of footballing bad boys. He was young, had too much money and since moving from his native Costa Rica, was making the most of his freedom by hitting the London nightlife hard. He was a journalist’s dream and a publicist’s nightmare. ‘I’ve organised a dinner with some journalists for the night before the launch and we’ll make sure there are no detours on the way back to the hotel afterwards.’

‘Okay. Let’s hope you can keep him in line,’ said Will. And with that he was gone.

‘Bye then,’ said Cat to the silent phone.

‘Who you gotta screw to get a cocktail round here?’ cried Ava sweeping through the bar towards Cat. People turned to stare and Ava smiled and waved like the Queen. Cat grinned and stood up in readiness for their air-kiss greeting. Ava Jackson liked to make an entrance; she loved the attention almost as much as the celebrities she featured in her magazine. She was a pint-sized New Yorker with a fearsome reputation and immaculate hair. She had landed in the UK twenty years ago, forging an impressive career as a red-topped paper journalist before founding her own celebrity gossip magazine called Mwah!

A handsome, slick-haired waiter appeared by their side. Ava gave him an approving smile as they ordered their drinks. ‘So,’ she said, fixing her gaze on Cat, ‘tell me everything.’

Cat smiled. She was used to Ava’s ways. She was an important contact in the world of celebrity gossip magazines and probably the closest thing Cat had to a best friend, but she didn’t trust her. Not really. Ava would sell her grandmother and probably Cat’s too for a good story. They had playfully named these informal monthly get-togethers as ‘The Tuesday Night Mojito Club’, but Cat was careful to be measured in both her drinking and divulging. Still, they enjoyed each other’s company and for the most part the relationship was mutually advantageous. Cat gave Ava the stories that would help her sell magazines and Ava gave Cat the publicity her clients required. It was beautifully simple. Most of the time.

‘Saffy Bridges’s agent has asked me to find the right home for her engagement pictures,’ said Cat, casually. The waiter delivered their cocktails and Cat nodded her thanks.

Ava sat up in her seat. ‘I’m listening.’

Cat smiled. Saffron Bridges was the pop sensation of the moment and she had recently announced her engagement to the floppy-fringed song-writing star Sam Taylor. As soon as it had been announced #SaffSam had trended worldwide and the Tiffany’s engagement ring that Saffy had posted on Instagram shortly afterwards now had a six-month waiting list. Cat had overseen the entire thing. ‘The problem is, there are obviously a number of other channels interested,’ said Cat, studying her fingernails.

Ava didn’t blink. ‘What do you need?’

‘Positive coverage for the Paradise Rivers perfume launch.’

‘Done.’

‘No bitchy comments about her being a limelight-grabbing drama queen?’

Ava put her hand on her heart. ‘By the time we’ve finished with her, she’ll be more popular than Kate Middleton.’

Cat raised an eyebrow. Paradise Rivers was a former reality TV and now wannabe pop star. She was headline-hogging and about as far from paradise as a person could be but her agent had a number of other top celebrity clients so Cat had to ensure that she got the best coverage possible. ‘Just a few hours trending on Twitter for all the right reasons will be fine.’

‘You got it,’ said Ava taking a sip of her drink. Cat sat back in her chair feeling satisfied. ‘So, how are you doing?’

Cat smiled. ‘I’m good. Busy but that’s how I like it.’

Ava fixed her with a look. ‘Too busy if I know you.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I mean, sweet-cheeks, that you gotta look after number one. Listen to your Auntie Ava. Trust me, I know this. All work and no play will burn you out in the end.’

Cat shrugged. ‘I signed up to this job. It’s just the way it is. And besides, I enjoy it. It makes me happy. But I appreciate you looking out for me, Mum,’ she joked.

Ava blew a raspberry. ‘I’m serious. I worry about you.’

Cat shook her head and laughed. ‘Why would you worry about me?’

Ava counted on her fingers. ‘One: you work too hard, two: you’re never off that phone, three: when was the last time you had sex?’

Cat nearly choked on her mojito. ‘What’s sex got to do with anything?’

Ava fixed her with a knowing look. ‘Sex has got everything to do with everything.’

‘I have sex,’ insisted Cat.

‘When?’

‘Last month. With that comedian.’

‘The one with the awful hair and sweat-patches? Euw!’

‘He was very funny.’

‘A funny comedian? There’s a thing.’

Cat stuck out her tongue. ‘Well what about you and all the sex you’re having?’

‘I do pretty well and anyway I’ve got Sergio.’

‘Oh yeah, your “friend with benefits”,’ laughed Cat making speech marks in the air. ‘You’re so old school, Ava.’

Ava shrugged. ‘You may mock but it works. You should get one instead of rejecting every male because he’s not Jesse Hemingway.’

Cat folded her arms. She cursed the day she had told Ava about Jesse. They hadn’t known each other long; it had been after the launch party for Mwah! Cat remembered that tequila and Ava’s nose for an excellent story had been to blame.

‘So he’s the man of your dreams and yet you’ve never slept with him?’ Ava had slurred, reaching over to top up their shot glasses with expensive golden tequila.

‘We had a moment,’ Cat had said wistfully.

‘A moment? Oh well, that’s almost as legally binding as a marriage.’

Cat wished she’d never mentioned it but Ava had the memory of an elephant and was fond of bringing up the subject whenever their talk turned to affairs of the heart. Fortunately this didn’t happen very often; the celebrity world kept them more than occupied and Cat had no desire to air her innermost feelings to herself, let alone the editor of the country’s favourite gossip magazine.

Still, Ava was right in that there was no-one who ever came close to Jesse and, as the years went by, this never changed. Cat enjoyed the odd flirtation and night of passion but nothing ever lasted and it suited her fine. Jesse was now married to an ex-model but it was still Cat who got to spend the majority of time with him. He even called her his ‘PR wife’. This suited her fine as well.

‘I am not rejecting anyone. I’m just not looking because I’m happy as I am.’

‘Really?’ said Ava with narrowed disbelieving eyes.

‘Really,’ declared Cat. ‘This single life works for me. I think I might be the one.’