You Can’t Hurry Love. Portia MacIntosh
don’t really know too much about escape games, but I imagine they’re exactly as they sound. You lock people up and they try and escape for fun, right? The listing says its minimum wage and zero hours, but this could be exactly the kind of gig I need to fit in around my writing commitments; it could be fun, and could make me the extra wedding money I need. The application says to send in a CV with relevant experience, but I don’t suppose I have any. I’ve just always been a writer, ever since I graduated.
I glance at my watch; it’s 17:35. Looking up Houdini’s, I see that they’re open until late, and it’s only a short walk away – why don’t I go scope the place out and see what I make of it?
After washing my hair and applying my make-up, I open up my wardrobes (cardboard boxes) and see what I can find. An oversize black jumper dress and a pair of black over-the-knee boots seem like the right kind of thing, given how cold it is outside. I grab my leather jacket, pile on the rose-gold accessories (and my engagement ring, of course) and I’m good to go.
I am just about to walk out of the door when my mobile starts ringing. It’s my agent, Lindsey.
‘Hello,’ I say, answering quickly, terrified there’s a problem with the manuscript I stressed myself out to finish on time.
‘Hello, Mia, how are you?’ she asks brightly.
‘Great, ta. How are you?’
‘I’m doing well, thank you. I just wanted to let you know that Tamara is reading your manuscript and she’s really enjoying it, and I’ve already finished it and I think it’s great – maybe your best yet.’
I let out a huge sigh of relief. I’m pretty sure Lindsey tells me every book I write is my best work yet, but I do feel like she believes in me, and it’s always good news to hear that Tamara, my editor, is enjoying it too. Having a strong team around you, rooting for you and doing everything they can to make your books a success, is just as important as the writing itself – what does it matter if you’ve written an amazing book if no one reads it?
‘That’s great news, thank you,’ I tell her.
‘So, what are you going to do now?’ she asks. ‘Take a little time off?’
‘I wish,’ I reply. ‘I’ve got a wedding to pay for – I’m actually job hunting.’
‘What?’ Lindsey squeaks. ‘Mia, you’re an amazing writer, so early in your career as a novelist. The money gets better.’
‘In time for my wedding or my next cripplingly expensive trip to Ikea?’ I laugh awkwardly. ‘It’s not just that; I get so bored between books. Everyone is at work and there’s no one to have any fun with…’
‘Listen, Mia, I’m putting forward a few of my clients for a job – it’s nonfiction, but I feel like you could be great for it. Shall I put you forward?’
‘What is it?’ I ask.
‘It’s a ghostwriting job,’ she tells me. ‘It will pay very well – two authors have dropped out already, so it won’t be easy. Let’s leave it at that – I don’t want to get your hopes up.’
I can’t help but pull a face. There’s no way a romcom writer like me is going to get a nonfiction gig that two other authors have already dropped out of, and even if I could, why would I want to work with someone who sounds so difficult? It would have to pay really well.
I finish my call and head for the door. Obviously I’d much rather have a writing job but I’ve got a wedding to pay for – and maybe the way to do this is by locking people up.
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