It’s A Man’s World. Polly Courtney

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СКАЧАТЬ the man, ‘I see this involving new channels for the existing content – your content. But it’s inevitable that at times, there may be a need to look at the content itself, maybe make a few changes.’

      Derek continued to stare hatefully at Alexa, slowly shaking his head.

      ‘For that, I need your support.’ She could hear the desperation in her voice. ‘I need to feel that you trust me to get involved. I need to . . .’ Alexa faltered. This was the real reason she had called him in. She could barely bring herself to say the words. ‘I need to know that you won’t undermine me in front of the team.’

      Initially, there was no reaction from Derek. Then he sat back, slowly, still looking at her through the dark slits that his eyes had become. All of a sudden, he launched himself forwards. Alexa jumped.

      ‘Banter,’ he spat, pressing his face right up to hers, ‘is a fucking good magazine.’

      Alexa nodded mutely. He was so close she couldn’t breathe. ‘I know that,’ he said, through gritted teeth, ‘because I’ve worked here for six years. So when some bint in a suit comes in here on some crazy salary and starts telling me how to run my magazine and how to talk to my team . . .’ He sniffed loudly, angrily, only millimetres from her face, ‘then it’s hardly surprising when I don’t take too kindly to her. Is it?’

      Alexa shook her head, saying nothing.

      Eventually, Derek threw himself back into his chair, shaking his head and looking into the main office with a cold, hard stare.

      Alexa slowly exhaled. She was about to say, tentatively, that she wasn’t trying to dictate how he ran his magazine or talked to his team, but as she opened her mouth to speak, Derek threw back his chair and stood up, marching out of the meeting room and slamming the door on his way out.

      Alexa sank down in her chair and pressed her fingers against her closed eyes. She was so close to crying, but something inside her was blocking the tears. She couldn’t cry. She wouldn’t allow it. This was just part of the challenge, she told herself. This was the lion’s den Matt had warned her against. This was the all-male environment Leonie had been so worried about. She had to stay strong. She thought about Kate’s reaction to the girl in her boyfriend’s office who had let her tears show. She wasn’t going to be like that.

      Alexa grabbed her notepad and stood up. She was going to go back into the office and continue to do what she was being paid to do. She was going back into the lions’ den.

      Chapter 7

      The photographer squinted critically at his digital display.

      ‘Okay, that last one again, if you don’t mind. Yeah, move your hands about, that’s it, like you’re really enjoying yourself.’

      The girl grabbed her breasts with fresh gusto, flicking her long, dark hair to one side and pouting at the camera. Alexa swallowed nervously, wondering whether the girl actually was enjoying herself. Going by the shaky knees and the look of forced ecstasy on her face, Alexa suspected not.

      Kayleigh Williams was nineteen years old. This was her first modelling shoot – a fact that Alexa could probably have deduced by the girl’s demeanour, had it not been written on the call sheet in front of her. She couldn’t help thinking that it might also be the girl’s last.

      It wasn’t that Kayleigh didn’t have the looks: she was tall and curvy with dark eyes and glossy, chestnut-coloured hair that cascaded in waves down her back. Her breasts, as noted on the call sheet, were a sizeable 32DD. The problem was the way she held herself. It was her confidence – or lack thereof. The girl looked petrified.

      ‘Can you move a bit more slowly, Kayleigh?’ Jamie, the pictures editor, obviously felt compelled to intervene. ‘That’s it. Much more sexual, yeah.’

      The videographer gave a nod of approval as he changed angle.

      This was why amateur photographs never looked anything like those in the magazine. Aside from the photographer there was a photographer’s assistant, a lighting guy, a junior lighting guy, makeup and a young lad whose job it was to run around the set looking busy and repeatedly offering drinks. For this shoot there was also a videographer. Banter now filmed, as well as shot, all of its most popular features, for the website and Banter TV.

      The ‘Brainy Banter’ feature was up there among the readers’ favourites. The concept was simple: get a female university student to take off her clothes and then ask her some trivia questions that she would inevitably get wrong under pressure, then print the airbrushed pictures beside her incorrect answers, thus offering the readers a dumb, compliant bimbo with a perfect body. It wasn’t exactly a fair representation of the female student population, but then, nothing was ever a fair representation. Banter was no different from other publications when it came to manipulating the truth.

      ‘We call that the hand-bra,’ whispered Jamie, leaning over.

      ‘Right.’ Alexa nodded awkwardly as the girl leaned forward, lightly clutching her heavy breasts.

      ‘Got to get plenty of nipple-free shots, for the website and so on,’ he explained softly.

      She nodded again, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. It wasn’t just that she was sitting, watching another woman grope her own breasts; it was something else. She couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but Alexa didn’t feel right.

      ‘Makeup?’ Jamie was talking at full volume again, which wasn’t particularly loud. Unlike most of the staff at Banter, Jamie had a quietly authoritative manner. He was boyishly good-looking, with high cheekbones, plump lips and piercing blue eyes that shone out from beneath long, blond lashes.

      The makeup artist emerged from a far corner of the room, munching on a sandwich.

      ‘Can you try and do something about the mark on her thigh?’

      The makeup artist brushed the crumbs from her hands and bent down, grimacing at the sight of the girl’s leg. ‘Hmm.’ She looked up. ‘Is that a birthmark?’

      Kayleigh nodded apologetically.

      The woman screwed up her face. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

      The makeup artist retreated and started rummaging through her enormous kit bag, leaving Kayleigh standing self-consciously under the lights wearing a G-string and a pair of stilettos.

      That was it, thought Alexa. That was what made her feel so uncomfortable: it was the fact that Kayleigh looked so uncomfortable. The girl didn’t want to be exposing her every pimple and blemish to the nation, to be scrutinised by two hundred thousand strangers. True, she had volunteered for the shoot – probably encouraged to do so by a boyfriend who saw it as some kind of trophy to show his mates – but it was clear from the way she was hugging her chest that now that she was here, she felt over-exposed.

      Alexa felt a surge of pity for the girl. She wouldn’t stand up there, half naked, in front of a bunch of strangers. Even though she understood the rationale for appearing in Banter – that it was flattering to know that men saw you as a source of sexual stimulation – she still couldn’t imagine herself doing it. Alexa wondered what it was that was stopping her. What made her different from Kayleigh?

      A thick layer of foundation was applied to the offending birthmark, rendering it invisible to the СКАЧАТЬ