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She swung under the counter to embrace her old boss. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
‘Who could resist a coffee shop called Starclucks?’
Stella pulled a face.
‘Uncle Jimmy thinks it’ll attract the hipster crowd’.
‘More likely the attention of Seattle-based lawyers,’ smiled Lara.
‘Yeah, well good luck with getting any money out of Uncle Jimmy.’
Lara looked around, taking in the empty tables.
‘I can see it’s a little slow.’
‘What can I get you? Double caff Frappuccino with vanilla?’
Lara laughed.
‘Just an espresso, Stel. Sorry – maybe you should give me a croissant or something too. I haven’t been eating much lately.’
It was only then that Stella noticed the dark semi-circles under Lara’s eyes and the pale skin. So much for being observant.
‘I heard about your friend Sandrine. I’m so sorry.’
Lara gave a tight nod and looked away, so Stella gestured to the cakes under glass domes.
‘Help yourself to whatever you fancy and take a seat. I’ll crank up the machine and bring it across.’
Lara was waiting in the booth the affair couple had lately vacated. Despite the circumstances, Stella couldn’t help but feel excited by her old boss’s unannounced appearance. She had missed the excitement and the camaraderie. And she had missed Lara too.
‘To what do I owe this honour?’ she asked.
Lara pulled a thin smile.
‘First I wanted to apologise.’
‘What for?’
‘All this,’ she said, gesturing towards Stella’s mop, propped up against the wall.
‘Working in Jimmy’s?’ said Stella. ‘It’s not too bad. He pays more than the minimum wage and lets me choose my hours.’
‘Well, I’m sorry you’re not working at the Chronicle.’
‘Lara, I chose to join a profession that I knew was disappearing before our eyes. And everyone wants a cup of coffee. It’s a win-win.’
She said it as joke but Stella had been devastate
d when Oliver Wolf, the Chronicle’s managing editor had summoned her into his office on the day of the High Court verdict and told her to clear her desk. Being Lara Stone’s assistant had been her dream job, right at the heart of one of the biggest newspapers in the country. But in ten short minutes, she was standing out in the street holding a box of files and all the staples she could carry. It was like it had never even happened.
‘Forget making coffee, Stella,’ said Lara. ‘You belong in newspapers.’
Stella looked away. She’d thought that too until she emailed every news editor in town, only to be either ignored or told politely that she’d be ‘put on file’.
‘If you hear of anything, I’m available to start pretty much immediately,’ said Stella, forcing a smile.
Lara gave a half-smile. ‘Well that’s good news, because how do you fancy coming to work for me?’
