Lindsey Kelk 5-Book 'I Heart...' Collection (59 page)

There he was, this ridiculously beautiful man who had everything going right for him in the world, standing in front of me waving around what he genuinely thought was the perfect life, like the moon on a stick, while his secret boyfriend stood six feet away, leaning against a giant brown plastic mammal. And I was being selfish? No wonder Blake was such a twat all the time. His boyfriend was the biggest arsehole in the universe and he couldn’t complain about him to anyone.

‘Do you love Blake?’ I asked.

‘What?’ James looked past me to where Blake was staring at us from the arms of the sloth.

‘Do you love him?’ I asked again.

‘Angela, just stop playing games. Are you going to fuck me over or what?’

I ignored him and carried on. ‘Because I actually love my boyfriend and the idea of him not knowing that for sure is actually worse than any of this bollocks right now.’

As soon as I’d said it, I knew it was absolutely true. I couldn’t get the look on Jenny’s face when she talked about Jeff out of my head, and I didn’t want to ever feel that way about me and Alex. ‘I don’t believe that you two are in love. If you were, you wouldn’t care who knew, you’d just want to be together.’

‘As if it’s that easy,’ James snapped back. ‘I’m not some random guy that can just do whatever he wants when I want, Angela. My career depends on my reputation. It’s all a character, everything I do.’

‘Oh shut up. It’s not the Fifties any more, you idiot.’ I took my turn to push him; unfortunately his six-foot-plus frame didn’t actually budge. ‘No one cares if you’re gay.’

‘It wasn’t the Fifties when I was growing up either, but they cared then,’ he fumed quietly. ‘I’m not doing it, so just pack it in. Blake understands why we have to do things the way we do.’

‘Do I?’

For the first time I realized Blake wasn’t leaning against the (actually hilarious in any other situation) giant sloth because he was too cool to stand up, he actually couldn’t stand on his own. His eyes were no longer a little bit red around the edges but wet with real tears.

‘Do I, James?’ he asked again. I suddenly felt extraordinarily uncomfortable. Oh bugger.

‘We talked about this last night,’ James said, in a considerably softer tone of voice than the one he’d been using with me. ‘You said—’

‘No, you talked about it last night.’ Blake’s voice got louder as James’s got quieter. ‘And I didn’t say anything, but I’m saying something now. Bitch’s right. There’s no need for all this bullshit any more. I know you had a hard time when you were younger but it’s over. You’re here now and you’ve got me. If you felt the same way I did, none of the rest of it would matter.’

I paused in my steady backtracking out of the way. Did Blake just call me a bitch? Arse, I was on his side!

‘Blake, don’t.’ James’s pretty face was dangerously close to crumpling. I swapped positions with Blake, him holding James’s shoulders, me clutching the oversized paw of the sloth. He looked fascinated by the proceedings. For a giant, infamously lazy plastic creature.

‘Don’t what? You remember when you asked me not to make you choose and I said I never would?’ Blake placed a hand against James’s cheek. ‘Well, I changed my mind. I’m asking. In fact I’m telling. If you do this interview with her, I’m gone. Call me when you’ve made up your mind. Or don’t. I won’t be at the hotel when you get back.’

We watched Blake stalk across the park and out of sight before James turned to me.

‘Drama,’ I said, raising my eyebrows.

‘Is it too early for a drink?’ James asked, holding out his hand.

I hesitated before I took it. He looked exactly how I felt. He looked exactly like Jenny had that morning. He looked heartbroken.

‘It’s a bit early,’ I said, slapping his hand away and walking on ahead. ‘But that’s never stopped me before.’

After our third block of driving in silence, I fished my phone out of my bag and willed it to ring.

‘Oh, just call him,’ James said without turning to look at me. ‘It’s like looking at puppies in the window of a pet shop. I can see your reflection in the window.’

I smiled tightly and speed-dialled Alex, but it still didn’t connect, no answer phone, no anything.

‘Hold this,’ I said, passing James my phone and emptying my handbag out onto the car seat. I knew it was in there somewhere.

‘Good God woman, how much crap have you got in that handbag?’ he asked as I sifted through Post-it notes, loose dollar bills and chewing gum wrappers. ‘I’ve seen apartments with less stuff in them.’

‘I know, I know,’ I said, shaking out an address book for loose entries. ‘I promised myself when I got this bag that I’d look after it but, well, I’m just a bit rubbish.’

‘Wait until I see Marc next and tell him what you’ve done to his bag,’ James tutted, sorting through assorted tampons and lip glosses. ‘He’ll be disgusted.’

‘You know Marc Jacobs?’ I froze mid-dig. ‘You actually know him?’

‘I did some ads for him,’ James nodded. ‘He’s cool.’

‘Keeping that from me until now is officially the shittiest thing you’ve done,’ I said, unfurling a screwed-up bit of old receipt from the back of my diary. ‘Got it.’

Before I could regret it, I dialled.

‘Jeff, it’s Angela. Clark. Alex’s girlfriend? Jenny’s friend?’ I said quickly before he could even speak.

‘Yeah, I actually had you at Angela,’ Jeff replied. ‘What’s up?’

‘Uh, well, I was wondering if you knew if Alex was in?’ I stammered. ‘He’s not answering his phone and well, I’m not in the city. Is he about?’

‘He’s not, no. He didn’t tell you where he went?’ Jeff sounded surprised. At least it seemed as if there was one person in the world who hadn’t heard all about my ‘Angela’s Adventures in Hollywoodland’. It was just unfortunate that it was my best friend’s ex-boyfriend who I was absolutely forbidden to speak to ever again. ‘Hey, uh, how’s Jenny doing?’

‘He went somewhere?’ I leaned forward, resting my forehead on my knees.

‘Yeah,’ Jeff replied. ‘He came over last night and asked me to keep an eye on his place. He had a bag, seemed in a rush to get someplace. So, she’s OK?’

‘What? Oh, Jenny, yes,’ I lied. ‘She’s fantastic actually.’

‘Cool, tell her I said hi,’ Jeff said. ‘OK, well, when he comes back, I’ll tell him you called? Bye.’

‘Shit,’ I said, sinking back against the car seat. I felt as though I’d been kicked.

‘Bad news?’ James asked.

‘Until you say “Angela, I’d like you to organize my coming out interview in as public a forum as possible,” I think everything is going to be bad news.’ I frowned at him. ‘Don’t think you’re forgiven because your boyfriend dumped you. We’re not even yet.’

‘Tell me about Alex,’ James said, sliding his arm around my shoulders. It was weird how quickly that had gone from stomach-flippingly exciting to stomach-churningly irritating. ‘Tell me why he’s worth all this.’

‘This isn’t all about him,’ I said. ‘This is about you not being an arse and giving me my life back. I only just got one, for God’s sake, it’s hardly bloody fair that I should lose it so quickly.’

‘Just shut up and tell me about him.’

‘Fine. Alex is …’ I didn’t know where to start. ‘He’s kind, intelligent, he’s sweet, he’s thoughtful, creative—’

‘You haven’t mentioned hot yet. Or good in bed. Come on, you’re not describing him to your mum.’ James slapped my knee. ‘Sorry, carry on.’

I gave him as filthy a look as I could muster. ‘He’s just … he’s passionate about things. About his music, about me. That’s what was missing from my life for so long. Passion. Passion for something, anything really.’

‘I know this isn’t going to make me popular,’ James said. ‘But you know they say passion doesn’t last? They say that for a reason. You can’t seriously be asking me to throw my entire career down the shitter because you really like doing it with a boy in a band.’

Just when I thought we were making headway. ‘Passionate, not passion – there’s a difference; and besides, that’s not everything. I love him because he makes me feel like I can do anything. He makes me feel like the person I want to be.’ I tilted my head to one side. ‘I feel so sorry for Blake.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Don’t you feel the same way about him?’ I asked.

James didn’t say anything.

‘Excuse me,’ I leaned forward to speak to James’s driver, ‘could we please head back to The Hollywood?’

‘Yes ma’am,’ he nodded curtly.

James gave me a sideways glance and sighed.

‘So are you going to do it or not?’ I asked finally, as we pulled up outside my hotel.

‘You still don’t get what you’re asking me,’ James shook his head. ‘There’s so much more riding on this than your boyfriend.’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘There’s my job, my visa, my apartment, my reputation, the respect of my family and friends. Oh, and your boyfriend.’

‘Don’t think this is easy for me,’ he closed his big blue eyes, the hollows underneath looking more pronounced in the dim light of the limo. ‘But, I’m sorry, I can’t do it.’

It took all my strength to push open the car door and step out on to the pavement. I really had thought he would come through, if not for me then for Blake. The limo pulled away quickly before I could get back in and beg James to change his mind, leaving me standing alone in the street.

Not knowing what else to do, I dialled Jenny. When it went straight through to her voicemail for the fourth time, I gave up. There was no point calling Alex again and Mary didn’t want to hear anything I had to say unless it was ‘can’t wait to whore myself all over Icon next week’. And as much as that was looking pretty inevitable, I just couldn’t bring myself to make the call.

I forced myself through the twilight of The Hollwood’s lobby and into the lift. The gold-tinted walls softened my reflection, but even the tiny security camera in the ceiling could see how pathetic I looked. My hair had frizzed out in the humidity and all the make-up I’d plastered on in Fred Segal had melted or been silently cried off in the last three minutes. I wasn’t sure it would be good or bad to see Alex at that exact second. He’d see what a mess I was in, but he’d also see what a mess I was. Not exactly love-of-his-life material. Why hadn’t I just told him I loved him? Why hadn’t I said it at Erin’s wedding? Or before I left for the airport? There had been so many opportunities.

Exhausted, I crashed through my bedroom door, pulled the curtains closed on the Hollywood Hills and rolled onto my bed. Nothing to do now but wait for Mary to call with the bad news.

I woke up a little bit disoriented, the seams of my jeans sticking into my legs, but it only took a couple of seconds and a quick look at the bedside clock to remind me why I was in bed on a Wednesday afternoon. It was six in LA, nine in New York. Time was up. There was no way now to sort things out before Mary agreed to the Icon interview and Jenny took over as my personal kiss-and-tell stylist. At least I might look half decent in the photos that would be ruining my life next Tuesday. I did need a new Facebook profile picture.

One of my favourite things about staying in good hotels was their ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policies. Even though housekeeping had replaced several vomit-tinged towels from the bathroom floor, they had happily restocked the minibar. In fact, there might have actually been more vodka in there than yesterday. Clutching my mobile, I sat cross-legged in front of the fridge. For the want of a better plan, I mixed a vodka Diet Coke and drank it down in one. And mixed another. And drank it down.

After making it through the rest of the vodka, the gin and the white wine, I grabbed hold of the counter and pulled myself up. Hmm. Too drunk to stand up easily without support, but not drunk enough to move on to the Jack Daniel’s miniatures. I slicked on some lip gloss and changed my T-shirt quickly before grabbing my room key and barrelling through the door. There really was only one place to go in times of trouble. The place where everybody knew your name.

‘Angela?’

Of course, in this instance, there was only one person who knew my name and that was Joe. But a bar was a bar and a drink was a drink.

‘Hey,’ I said, dropping onto a stool in front of him. The pool bar was practically empty, sun-worshipping hotel guests gone in to get ready for the night ahead, local party-ers not even nearly ready to come out yet. ‘How are you?’

‘Uh, I’m OK,’ Joe replied, not looking convinced that the same could be said for me. ‘So what’s going on with you?’

‘Fucking. Nothing,’ I said, bashing my hand on the bar with each word. ‘He’s a knob, Joe. Everything on the internet, it’s all shit.’

‘I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you’re talking about my good buddy James Jacobs,’ Joe said, passing me a cocktail menu and some nuts. ‘So you’re not, you know?’

‘Mojito please.’ I scarfed a handful of nuts. How long was it since I’d eaten? ‘And ew, not even. I’m too good for him anyway. Not that he could, anyway. He wouldn’t know what to do with me if he had the chance. What’s that all about?’

‘I’m pretty sure I don’t know,’ Joe said with a grin. ‘But you are right, you’re too good for him.’

‘Yeah I am,’ I nodded enthusiastically, while Joe pounded away at the mint, sugar and lime. He really did have great arms. At least as good as James’s. ‘Are you OK, Joe? We haven’t seen you since Monday.’

‘I’m fine,’ he nodded passing the drink across the bar. ‘You get used to dealing with assholes in this town, Angela. But I guess you get used to dealing with assholes everywhere, right?’

‘Mmm-hmm,’ I agreed. It was a good mojito. ‘Everywhere.’

‘So, is there any chance I can convert you to LA?’ he asked. ‘Since the assholes are pretty much a global epidemic?’

I shook my head so violently, I had to grip the edge of the bar to keep from falling off my stool. ‘Nuh-uh.’

‘Still in love with New York, huh?’ Joe slipped another straw into my drink and took a long sip. ‘There’s nothing you like about LA?’

‘I don’t hate this,’ I said, bumping foreheads with him as I leaned in for another sip.

‘Me either,’ Joe said, holding my gaze for a moment. Nose to nose, eye to eye, I felt myself flush from head to toe.

‘I’m having dinner with Jenny later. You should come along.’ I pulled away, losing my balance again. ‘Or are you working?’