“I just got off the phone with him.”
“Who?”
“Jake Wethers!” She screams like a teenager. Not like the owner of the successful magazine.
“Jake?” I’m confused. “Why’s he calling you? No offence,” I add when I see the disappointed look on her face.
“Because you my darling are a skinful of magic, and delicious to boot!”
I hate it when she starts talking in riddles.
“Vicky, I’m a little lost here – help me out will you?” I chuckle so not to offend her.
“Did he not speak to you about it last night – no – wow, okay, well Jake Wethers just called me and has asked the magazine to host his official bio! Arrghhh!” she screams.
It’s way too early for Vicky’s hysterical screaming. But wow that is so totally cool.
“He called you himself? Don’t they usually have their PA’s do this stuff?”
“Yes!” She screams again. “I know I could not believe it!”
“Wow. That is awesome Vicky! Really awesome! I’m so pleased for you – for us – for the magazine!”
And I might get a chance to see Jake again, maybe.
I feel a little frisson of excitement buzz inside me at the thought.
“So who is his biographer?” I ask taking my jacket off and hanging it on the back of my chair. I wonder if it’s anyone I know. I’m going to probably have to work with them for the spreads … that is if Vicky is putting me on it. God, I hope she is.
She cocks her eyebrow at me in confusion. “Jake really hasn’t spoken with you about any of this? He never mentioned anything at dinner?”
“No. Mentioned what?”
“Well, my darling girl, I’m happy to tell you that Jake’s official biographer is … well – you.”
What? What?!
All I can do is stare at her dumbfounded. And then my mobile starts to ring on my desk.
But I can’t move. I’m frozen to the spot.
He’s hired me? Jake’s hired me to write his bio without even asking me. Is that even legal?
Vicky walks over to my desk, peering over at my phone, she picks it up and holds it out to me.
“You might want to take this call. It’s Jake.”
All I can do is stare down at it like it’s a bomb about to go off.
Why would he do this?
I mean of course it’s awesome and very flattering that he thinks I could do it, but I’ve never written a book before. I write articles. Little ones that fit on the page of a magazine.
I don’t think I can write a book.
Oh God.
I just don’t understand why he’s done this and why he never talked to me about it. He had ample opportunity last night.
All the air has been sucked out of the room. I think I’m having a panic attack or something. I’m going to pass out.
“Take the call,” Vicky urges pushing the phone closer to me. “You can’t pass up this opportunity. The magazine can’t pass up this opportunity, Tru.” She looks at me wistfully.
But I just can’t move my hand to take the phone.
“An opportunity Jake didn’t even offer me himself.” My voice comes out croaky.
My phone stops ringing.
We both look down at it.
Vicky retreats her hand containing my bomb of a phone with it.
“Maybe Jake just wanted to speak to me first. You know with me being your employer. He probably wanted to check it wouldn’t cause any problems with your permanent job here first before offering you the job.”
“Did he say that to you?” I look at her suspiciously.
“Yes, of course he did,” she answers brightly.
She’s so lying. He never asked her. I can’t imagine Jake ever asking anyone for anything.
All he’s done by calling Vicky first, is put me in a position where I can’t say no.
Did he know that would be the case? And if so, then why would he do that?
“Call him back,” Vicky urges.
I shake my head, swallowing down my dry throat. “I don’t think I can. I don’t think I can do this. I can’t write a book, Vicky. I’m a journalist. A music journalist, not a novelist.”
“You can. You are a wonderful writer, my darling.”
I look up at her, mild panic in my eyes. I know what she’s worried about. She’s worried Jake will pull the bio from the magazine if I don’t write it.
But he wouldn’t do that.
“Jake will still have the magazine do the feature, even if I don’t take the job, Vicky. He wouldn’t pull it. I know him.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, honey, I did sort of get the distinct impression you are part of the deal.”
“Did he say that?”
“Not exactly.”
Yes he did.
Crap.
“Why would he do this?” I say my thoughts out loud.
She smiles. “Maybe he just doesn’t want to let you go this time.”
“So he forces me to write his bio? No, that doesn’t make any sense. I’m his friend. You don’t force people to be your friend. I’d be his friend without this.”
I’m so confused. I need to sit down. I slump back into my chair.
Vicky moves round and leans against my desk. “Maybe he doesn’t just want to be your friend,” she says softly. “And if that is the case, then this way he gets to ensure he sees a lot more of you, for a long while.”