Lindsey Kelk 5-Book 'I Heart...' Collection (57 page)

I pulled my sunglasses triumphantly out of my handbag. ‘I’m wearing the exact same outfit as you,’ I protested. But of course I wasn’t. My baggy boyfriend jeans and little pink American Apparel T-shirt couldn’t compare with Jenny’s skintight Sevens and clingy, white, deep V-neck. At least our black Havaianas were identical.

We picked up iced coffees en route, me thankful for any reason to get out of the car-slash-death-trap, Jenny ecstatic to be able to demonstrate her ability to sip a Frapuccino whilst driving, and I filled Jenny in on the James/Blake situation. Once I’d finished the story for the third time, I tilted my head back and stared up at the beautiful blue, cloudless sky. At least if I looked up there, I couldn’t see Jenny running red lights.

‘So what are you going to do?’ Jenny asked, swerving around a tight corner onto Melrose Avenue. ‘Did you make everything OK with Alex? Did you speak to Mary?’

‘I spoke to Alex but it didn’t go that well.’ And that’s putting it mildly, I added to myself. ‘I have to call Mary but I’ve been sort of putting it off. I’m guessing the fact that she hasn’t called me yet is not a good sign.’

‘It all sounds pretty clear to me, honey,’ Jenny said, swinging the car into a car park beside a building that seemed to be covered in grass. ‘You just have to tell her the truth. It’s just gonna sort this whole thing out.’

‘I know but, well, actually, I don’t know …’ I pulled my frizzy hair into a loose ponytail and wrapped a band around it. ‘I can’t just out him, can I? Obviously he’s hiding it all for a reason.’

Jenny stopped the car with a jolt. ‘Are you fucking with me?’

‘Jenny—’

‘This ass-hat makes out with you in public, allows photos of the two of you to be published all over the internet, effectively destroys your relationship and costs you your job and you don’t want to casually drop into conversation that he’s the new Clay Aiken?’

I wrinkled my nose. ‘Yeah, well.’

‘Great argument,’ she climbed out over the locked car door.

‘They do open, you know,’ I grumbled. ‘Where are we anyway?’

‘And I thought I’d made a shopper out of you.’ Jenny held her arms out in a flourish. ‘This, my British friend, is Fred Segal. Fashion emporium and Los Angeles institution. And where we’re meeting Teresa inside in a half-hour, so we need to get our shit together.’

‘Tessa’s really coming?’ I asked, pulling off my sunglasses and following Jenny past a row of tables and chairs, already packed with pretty people. ‘Jenny, that’s incredible.’

‘I know, crazy right?’ Jenny smiled and nodded at the man holding open the door for us. ‘She texted me this morning to say she’d meet us here. Daphne is going to freak out when she finds out. Tessa DiArmo is a big get for a stylist.’

‘I’m sure she’ll be happy for you,’ I lied. ‘Where did she go, anyway?’

‘Uh, she went home with that guy she was … talking to,’ she muttered into a clothes rail.

The store appeared to be split into lots of different little sections but, unsurprisingly, Jenny knew exactly where she was going. It was as if she had inbuilt shopping GPS: I was fairly sure I could drop her in any major shopping capital in the world and she’d be able to find the nearest Starbucks, bathroom and Marc Jacobs concession. It was a talent I very much hoped to develop when I grew up.

‘Well, if she’d stayed maybe she would be styling Tessa,’ I said in my least judgemental voice. Which was still fairly judgey. ‘But anyway, I wanted to talk about last night. About what you said before you … left.’

‘I called ahead to set up a room for Tessa DiArmo?’ Jenny confidently accosted a passing salesgirl. ‘Can you please make sure that it’s ready? We’re going to be sending things over soon. Thanks.’

The girl looked us up and down once, nodded and then rushed off to the back of the store. Jenny kept her back to me.

‘Do you think this would suit Tessa?’ She held out a Twenty8Twelve T-shirt dress. ‘Too casual for an awards show, though, right? But maybe with heels and the right jacket …’

‘Jenny, you realize I’m not going to let this go, don’t you?’ I said, pushing the dress away. ‘What you said last night? And no, it wouldn’t suit Tessa. It would suit me though.’

She tossed the dress towards me. ‘I have to find like ten outfits before Tessa gets here, so can we not do this now?’

‘We are doing it now; you do your clearest thinking when you’re shopping.’ I passed the dress on to the assistant that had appeared back at Jenny’s side. ‘I thought this trip was all about you getting laid. What’s happened with Joe?’

‘Turns out maybe it wasn’t as easy as I’d thought. Or at least he isn’t any more,’ she said, turning her attention to a grey strapless Hache minidress. ‘The folds on this are really interesting. This could look gorgeous with – like – a little leather jacket and some chunky heels?’

‘Yes, it would,’ I agreed, passing it to the assistant at her elbow. ‘So that’s the problem? Joe? Because you could get men loads better than Joe, you know.’

‘Yeah, for sure. Except it turns out maybe I don’t want to. What about this?’ She pulled out a gold sequined tank dress.

‘Jeff?’

‘Jeff.’

‘Oh, Jenny.’

I watched her lips press into thin, colourless lines as she systematically flicked through the rail of clothes in front of her, from left to right.

‘I’m gonna get you guys some water,’ the salesgirl said eventually, backing away from the awkward silence. I nodded and smiled as she scuttled away.

‘You know, I’m not the best person to be giving out relationship advice, but you will get over it eventually. That is actually a fact. And I’m pretty sure one you told me once,’ I picked out a red Hervé Léger number and held it up to Jenny. ‘I wish you’d just talked to me about this. Practise what you preach and all that?’

‘Yeah, except I’m not that good at taking my own advice,’ she said, nodding at the red dress. ‘He’s moving in with his new girlfriend, you know? He called me to tell me in case I found out from Alex. I guess, even after everything, I really thought we were supposed to end up together. Now I’m not so sure.’

‘This new girlfriend could be a total rebound thing,’ I suggested. ‘You don’t know.’

‘I’m not sure any more.’ She finally turned around. Silent tears tracked down her face. ‘Maybe I need to get away for a while. Jeff is everywhere at home, I just can’t move on.’

‘You’re thinking about leaving? New York?’ I didn’t know what to do.

‘Maybe. For a while. I don’t know.’ She took my hand. ‘Angie, I really want today to go good. Can we just talk about this later? I don’t want to be all blah when Tessa gets here.’

‘Of course,’ I said, giving her a quick but tight hug. ‘But as soon as you’re done and you’re ready, we’ll talk. Dinner?’

She nodded quickly. ‘Definitely dinner; but please don’t freak out, honey, there isn’t anything to talk about yet. And we’ve still got a world of trouble to get you out of.’

I pulled a face. ‘Do you know, for five very short minutes, I’d almost forgotten about all that?’

Jenny laughed. ‘Good luck with that.’

‘I’m going to try and give Alex another call.’ I pulled a silver puffball dress off the rail and passed it to her. ‘Get her to try this on. I’ll be back in a minute.’

Fred Segal was like a very fashionable labyrinth. Each little salon led into another dead end, a cul-de-sac of couture. Eventually, I followed the sunlight out to the door we’d come in and managed to snag a table in the café. Holding my phone to my ear, I closed my eyes. All I needed to do was press one button. Instead I ordered a smoothie. And checked my emails. And looked at Perez Hilton on my BlackBerry. I just didn’t know what to say to him. Last night’s call was so awful, I didn’t see how I could salvage things over the phone and, after seeing the look in Jenny’s eyes, seeing how broken she was at the realization that she’d never be able to make it work with Jeff, the prospect of losing Alex for good was painfully real.

When my phone actually rang, I answered automatically, and even though I must have pressed a button to connect it, I was still surprised.

‘Angela? It’s James.’

And immediately I wished I hadn’t.

‘Angela, are you there?’ He did not sound good.

‘Clearly I am,’ I replied, frozen to the spot.

‘Are you OK? Where are you?’

‘I’m fine actually,’ I said. ‘I’m just waiting to go on the Ryan Seacrest show to out you. Then I’m going on E! News.’

‘Please, I really want to sort this out,’ he said hurriedly. ‘Please don’t go on air.’

I sat and looked around the café. I was getting the odd look but most people were trying very hard to look as interested as possible in nothing at all.

‘As much as that’s what you deserve, you can calm down,’ I sighed. ‘I’m not going on the radio to out you. I’m just wandering up and down Melrose handing out flyers. I like the personal touch. Much more effective.’

‘You’re on Melrose? Will you come to the hotel? We really need to talk,’ he rushed.

‘We really don’t,’ I replied evenly. I was so incredibly angry with him; just hearing his voice focused my mind completely. It was a much easier emotion to manage than the big ball of blah that took over when I tried to think about Alex. ‘There’s no way on God’s green earth I’m coming over to your hotel.’

‘But if we meet outside the hotel, we’re going to get photographed,’ James said. ‘I thought—’

‘I’ve been told that you’re not good at thinking.’ I slurped my smoothie. It really was delicious. ‘I’m not coming to your hotel. I’m calling my editor and telling her everything and then I’m going back to New York to attempt to salvage my relationship.’

‘Angela, please, if you say anything to your editor they’ll out me.’

‘I really don’t give a shit.’

‘Please Angela,’ he whined. ‘It’s everything. Everything I’ve ever worked for. Please don’t do it.’

‘It’s not my problem, James.’ No time to be weak now. So what if I outed him? And destroyed his career? And ruined his life? Meh. ‘I’ve got my own concerns. I’m going to have to make my money somehow given that you’ve probably cost me my job.’

‘Come off it, you’re not a kiss-and-tell girl,’ James stammered. ‘Just come and meet me. Please? We’ll meet anywhere you like. We’ll work out how to save your job and everything, but please just don’t say anything to the magazine. Not yet.’

I should have just hung up. I should have direct-dialled the News of the World and told them to get the La Senza matching set out. But I didn’t. ‘Where?’

‘Definitely not the hotel?’

‘Definitely not the hotel. The opposite of a hotel. As far away from a bed as humanly possible. The most public place on earth would be preferable.’

‘Disneyland?’

‘You’re not kidding, are you?’ I realized I was holding my empty smoothie glass against the edge of the table at a dangerously smash-and-slash angle. And the couple sitting next to me were looking awfully nervous. ‘No, I don’t think The Magic Kingdom is going to be able to sort this, James.’

‘It is the happiest place on earth.’ I could hear a hint of a smile in his voice. How dare he think he was off the hook with this?

‘And I would hate to get blood on those character costumes. I bet they’re a bitch to get dry cleaned.’

‘Right, OK,’ he said, considerably less pleased with himself. ‘You’re on Melrose? And you want to meet somewhere without any even vaguely sexual connotations. Where are you exactly? I’m sending a car.’

‘Fred Segal.’ I placed the glass back on the table and put my hands in my lap, offering an ‘I’m not crazy, honest’ smile to the people beside me, but they were too busy tapping away on their BlackBerrys and Sidekicks to acknowledge my sanity.

‘Because that’s the place to keep a low profile,’ he said. ‘Bumped into Paris yet?’

‘Do you want me to come or not?’ I snapped. Seriously, how come no one looked over when I was trying to be nice but as soon as I raised my voice, I had everyone’s undivided attention? ‘And there’s no way it’s just me and you. Blake comes too.’

‘Oh, Angela, I don’t think so,’ James said quickly. ‘He’s really not in a very good mood.’

‘And he’ll be in a better mood if I out the pair of you?’

Silence.

Sighing.

‘Fine. Just stay there and I’ll send the car.’

Hanging up, I pulled out my make-up bag. Wherever James went, so went the paps. Things were already bad enough without my under-eye circles making the news. I stared at myself in the mirror of my powder compact. How bizarre was this? How did I manage to go from not being able to get served in the Slug and Lettuce in Wimbledon without shouting at a barmaid, to having to worry about whether or not I was going to end up on the gossip page of some tabloid with big red circles drawn all over my many, many imperfections? All I wanted was to crawl into bed and not come back out until all this had gone away. Maybe I’d come out for Christmas dinner but then I’d be going right back in.

Bags banished and blusher blended, I took a deep breath. Time to bite the bullet.

‘Mary Stein’s office.’

‘Hi Cici,’ I said bravely. ‘Is Mary about?’

‘Oh, Angela,’ Cici managed to stretch out my name to last about three minutes. She must have been loving this. ‘I’m not sure she’s gonna be able to speak to you right now. She’s on a conference call with the publisher. You know, because of you.’

‘Right, well, it’s really important,’ I said through gritted teeth. This bit was even worse than actually talking to Mary. ‘Can you try and put me through?’

‘Uh-huh.’ The glee in her voice was unbearable. ‘But if she can’t talk to you right now, I can fill you in on what I’ve heard so far. You know, about you.’

‘Appreciated. Can you please just try and put me through?’

The hold music kicked in for what felt like forever.

‘Well?’

‘Oh, Mary,’ I was a little bit surprised. Mainly because I didn’t think Cici was even going to try and put me through, since she clearly really wanted to tell me all the lovely things that were being said about me in the office. ‘Hi.’

‘No, not hi, well?’ Mary sounded livid. Even though I couldn’t see her, I knew I’d got her full attention, which wasn’t ever a good thing. Mary was much less frightening if she was clicking away on her giant Mac while she was talking to you. ‘You realize you have fucked up on a massive, massive scale?’