face changes again, in some infinitesimal way. “Well … does he?”
“No. But isn’t that the point? You said you want someone with experience of the world. Well, no one’s got more experience than Ryan! He’s started his own business, he’s battled his way through Hollywood—”
“Hollywood!” Seb sounds astonished.
“He tried to make it there as a producer, but he found it so dishonest. So slippery. He’d love to apply all his business principles to something more worthwhile—and what you do is worthwhile. I’ve seen you on YouTube,” I add. “It’s so inspiring, how you give all those company directors a hard time about their pay.”
“Well.” Seb shrugs. “It’s what I believe in.”
“And so does Ryan!” I say quickly. “He wants to make a difference to the world. Like you.”
I’m hoping I’ve said enough to persuade him, but Seb shakes his head.
“I’m afraid I’m having trouble processing this,” he says. “A Hollywood producer wants to take on a junior role at an ethical-investment firm? A low-salaried, unglamorous research role? Excuse my skepticism, but—”
“He’s not a Hollywood producer anymore,” I cut in bluntly. “He lost everything. He’s had a terrible time and he knows he needs to start again from the bottom, but he’s willing to work, to learn, to roll his sleeves up and get his hands dirty.… I mean, should he be punished because he tried and failed?” I lean forward, my voice rising passionately. “He’s so talented, he has so much to offer … but he feels washed up. Most people wouldn’t even give him a chance. But maybe you could be that person. You could change his life forever. And maybe that would be worthwhile too.”
There’s silence as Seb digests my words.
“You’re a good advocate,” he says at last. “Have you ever thought of going into law?”
“I can’t spell,” I say honestly, and Seb throws back his head in laughter.
“Well, you’ve sold me. Do I get to meet … Ryan, is it?”
“He’s waiting round the corner,” I say eagerly. “He’s got his CV with him. I’ll text him to come here, shall I?”
I send the text and there’s a slightly awkward silence. Seb says, “I’ll make some more coffee,” and gets up from his desk.
He’s gone for a while and I can hear him talking in a distant room. I don’t try to catch what he’s saying and I clamp my hands by my sides before I can straighten any more precious vases.
I’m feeling a touch jittery about Seb and Ryan meeting. I hope Ryan is open with Seb. I hope he doesn’t get defensive and try to show off in that way he does sometimes. I hope he shows the real, thoughtful Ryan. The bruised, humble Ryan who’s learned some tough lessons and wants to start again, however much work it takes. The Ryan I know.
As Seb comes back in, I jump. “He should be here any minute,” I say.
“Great.” Seb smiles, but it’s not with the warmth he had before, and there’s another awkward beat.
I’m desperately longing for Ryan to appear—and when at last he steps in through the door, my heart catches. With his blond hair and tan he looks like a movie star, and he greets Seb with a dazzling smile, lifting his hand for a high-five. When Seb doesn’t respond but extends his hand for a traditional, businesslike handshake, Ryan doesn’t flicker. He simply shakes Seb’s hand as though that’s what he meant to do all along.
“So you’re the mystery man,” he greets Seb, in that charming way he has.
“I might say the same of you,” replies Seb pleasantly. I can see he’s determined to be positive, and I feel a wave of gratitude toward him. He could have chucked me out, but here he is, giving Ryan a chance. “Fixie tells me you’re interested in our junior research role.”
“Oh, this is all down to Fixie.” Ryan laughs. “She saved your company or whatever, so I guess you owe her some serious payback.”
I wince inside and hastily chime in, “I never said that!”
“Well, I’d be glad to have a chat,” says Seb. “You’ve been working in Hollywood, I understand?”
“Hollywood.” Ryan winces. “Have you ever been there? Don’t. It’s full of two-faced, double-crossing snakes. This time a month ago I was sitting in the Chateau Marmont—you know the Chateau Marmont?”
“I don’t, I’m afraid,” says Seb politely.
I can’t help cringing. I wish Ryan wouldn’t name-drop. I mean, I understand it—he’s defensive and he can’t help compensating. But he doesn’t need to. I glance at Seb, hoping