Getting Even [Paperback]

MAGAZINESWoman's Own - short story by Sarah Rayner and review. November 4thBella - review. November 2002Bella - feature 'Getting Even with your Boss'. December 2002/January 2003Company - review and competition give/away. November 2002Cosmopolitan - review. November 2002 - didn't runHeat - review. November 28th NATIONAL NEWSPAPERSDaily Mail - review. promised 22 NovemberThe Sun - review. 15 November REGIONAL NEWSPAPERSRichmond Informer interview with Sarah Rayner, November 20thWestminster & Pimlico News interview with Sarah, 21stNovember SPECIALIST MAGAZINESMarketing Week - diary story about the book andparty, November 13thCampaign - news story, November 20th RADIOBBC London Lisa I'anson programme on betrayal and revenge. Date tbcLBC Dr Pam's Life and Love discussion about relationships/friendships, 8th NovemberBBC Radio Leeds live interview Sunday Morning show, 3rd NovemberBBC Radio Wiltshire live interview, 5th NovemberBBC Solent live interview Afternoon show, 20th November INTERNETGlamour online competition/giveawayReddirect feature on 10 easy ways to 'Getting Even' plus competition/giveawayHandbag.com competition/giveaway on books pageNew Woman online competition/giveaway by email EVENTS6th November Party to celebrate the publication of the book, Othello's Wine bar21st November Reading and Signing event, Waterstones, Richmond14th & 21st November Stock

Read this book! A bestseller without a doubt, this wickedly thrilling story will keep you amused and intrigued.

A compulsive read about bonding and backstabbing.

A 'MUST READ'!
A compulsive tale of bonking, bonding and backstabbing.

PRESS * Reviews in key national papers e.g. Daily Mail, Independent, Observer * Reviews in key regional papers e.g. Manchester Evening News, Peterborough Evening Telegraph MAGAZINES * Widespread women's magazine reviews INTERNET * Reviews on book websites e.g. handbag.com, bol.com

How would you feel if your best friend at work betrayed you? Was secretly having an affair with an influential colleague? Did you out of a coveted promotion, then teamed you up with a mere junior, leaving you feeling completely demoted? What would you do? For Ivy there's no choice. The only person she has ever trusted, Orianna, has blown it big time. So there's only one way forward. Revenge. Ivy's campaign is brilliant, if horribly destructive, and she's determined to get even with the woman has dared to cross her. But is Ivy really the innocent party? Or is she hiding secrets of her own? Set in the heart of Soho's adland, where emotions run even higher than the salaries, GETTING EVEN is an unputdownable tale of jealousy packed with bonking, bonding and backstabbing.

Sarah Rayner was born in 1963 and grew up in Richmond, Surrey. She studied English at the University of Leeds, has worked in fashion PR, magazines, and, for the last 13 years, as an advertising copywriter.

Novel Extract, p 55-58

"I am worth no worse a place."

Ivy and Orianna were perched on chocolate coloured leather chairs on either side of a low wooden table in the window of Mezzo bar, sipping a G and slimline and dry white respectively. Ivy always enjoyed coming here - the clean, spacious design created just the kind of modern interior she loved, and it was a great place to people-watch, too. All around them strangers jostled and chatted, and the lack of music meant they didn't have to shout.

'I must say that was a great bit of spontaneous presenting,' she congratulated.

'Thanks.' Orianna looked embarrassed.

But Ivy was used to her modesty by now. Though occasionally she found it irritating, right then she was feeling magnanimous. 'They're not the easiest client in the world.'

'No,' Orianna frowned. There was no doubt; her manner was unusually subdued.

'Hey...' Ivy leant over the table towards her friend. 'Is something up?'

'No, no,' said Orianna, a touch too fast.

'Is it Dan?'

'No!'

But Ivy could tell something was definitely wrong. 'I don't want to see you hurt again,' she warned. 'Are you sure you two are okay?'

'I promise, we're fine,' said Orianna. But she sighed, and Ivy continued to be concerned. Orianna had been behaving very strangely all afternoon. She'd seemed to be finding it hard to concentrate, as if her mind was elsewhere.

Ivy didn't find intimate gestures easy, but knew one was called for here. She squeezed Orianna's hand. 'Whatever happens you know you'll always have me.'

'Will I?' Orianna's big brown eyes were wide with worry.

Oh dear, thought Ivy, genuinely touched. She seems really upset. 'Of course.'

'Good.' Orianna sighed again.

'Come on,' coaxed Ivy. 'You can tell me.'
Orianna removed her hand and took a huge sip of wine. And another. 'I don't know how to tell you this... But I know you were pissed off I didn't tell you Dan and I were seeing each other, so I didn't want to keep this from you too.'

Ivy was completely mystified. 'You're not leaving the agency, are you?'

'No.' Another sip of wine. Although almost all of Ivy's drink remained, Orianna was nearly at the bottom of her glass. Ivy had to get this out of her before another trip to the bar was called for.

'What is it then?' she demanded, trying to disguise her impatience.

Orianna looked away, glanced at Ivy nervously, and eventually brought it forth. 'I've been promoted.'

Ivy sat back in her chair, her head spinning. She felt as if she'd been punched. But maybe she had misunderstood. 'What do you mean,' she said slowly, 'you've been promoted.'

'I mean just that. I've been promoted. To Creative Director.'

Ivy, normally good at controlling her reactions, started to shake. 'When did you find this out?'

'At lunch-time.' Orianna's voice had dropped to a whisper.

Ivy spoke with spiked precision: 'When I was at the gym?'

'Yes.'

'Right. I think I see...' Ivy struggled to control her mounting fury.
'They want me to take over once Neil has left,' Orianna explained.

'They want you to take over? Let me get this clear. Just you?'

'Yes.'

'How nice,' spat Ivy. 'And where precisely does that leave me?'

'As Group Head...'

'Like I am now, in other words? But without you?'

'Er...yes. Well, we can get you a new art director, obviously. But the board thought it would be better to have just one Creative Director.'

'Without a copywriter?'

Orianna looked down. She was purple with embarrassment. 'Mm, at least in terms of an official title, yes. They... um... I think they only want one member of the department on the board.'

'I bet they do!'

'Ivy...' This time Orianna tried to squeeze her hand, but Ivy snatched it away.

Ivy was beyond hurt; she felt totally, utterly betrayed. They'd always worked as partners, taken credit for everything as a team. 'Didn't you tell them where to shove their bloody job without me?'

'I tried, Ivy, honestly... but they wouldn't hear of it.'

'Like hell you did. I know what you're like. So fucking wet sometimes.' Ivy shook her head in disbelief. 'I'm appalled. Absolutely appalled. So you're going to take the job then?'

'Er... yes... I have,' Orianna said softly, then added, 'I thought you might understand.'

'Pah!'

'I thought you didn't want to be a CD anyway. You always said the role stinks; that it involves all the worst, most boring and adminny aspects of our jobs and none of the fun.'

'Hmph!'

'And I'll make sure you get to work with me - I'll still need a copywriter some of the time.'

'Gee, thanks.' Ivy looked down at her glass, and ran her finger around the edge. Compared to Orianna's, it was still very, very full. Suddenly, she decided there was only one thing for it. For a split second she didn't give a flying fuck that they were in the window of Mezzo; that they were in full view not only of all at the crowded bar but also of numerous passers-by. She was so angry. And Orianna was just sitting there in her sweet little summer dress, her hair so flipping perfectly styled, her girly-girly make-up so recently reapplied. And instantly, before she had time to regain her mythical composure, she picked up her G&T and slung it, with the most fantastic accuracy, ice, lemon and all, over her partner.

And as Orianna sat there in shock, her dark locks dripping, her make-up running, her designer dress clinging to her curves like a wet T-shirt in a sordid competition, the lemon slice wedged in her cleavage like the latest pathetic accessory from Claire's, Ivy picked up her bag and stormed out of the bar.