Lindsey Kelk 5-Book 'I Heart...' Collection (64 page)

Tearing out of the lift as fast as my flip-flops would carry me, I could hardly bear to look. There they were, James, Blake and Alex, sitting at one of the tables, drinking coffee and, oh my God, laughing.

‘Hey!’ Alex stood up and leaned in for a quick kiss. I stared from one to the other, resting on Blake, who stared back with the smile of an angel. An angel that knew something I didn’t. ‘So I met James and Blake.’

‘So I see,’ I said, sitting down cautiously and accepting the coffee that James poured for me. On closer inspection of the bar, there was no sign of Joe. Phew. ‘And how’s that working out for you?’

‘Uh, I kicked his ass for upsetting you with the photo stuff, then he kicked my ass for being a dick about the photos, and then he said he really liked my band and now we’re having coffee.’ Alex squinted against the sunshine. ‘I think that’s about where you came in.’

‘Really? And now you’re best mates?’ I couldn’t stop staring at Blake. He looked so horribly pleased with himself. And uh, hello? Shouldn’t Alex still be angry on my behalf?

‘I believe you mean BFFs,’ James said. ‘We are in Hollywood, darling.’

‘And honestly, I’m not sure I could win in an actual fight,’ Alex whispered theatrically. ‘But I’ll take him on if you want?’

‘Oh, she’d love that,’ Blake said. ‘Get the two of you stripped to the waist and bare-knuckle boxing.’

‘Right. Well, this is lovely. Given that we were supposed to meet at your hotel,’ I glugged down the coffee, worrying about my dangerously high levels of caffeination. Worrying about what else Blake might decide to throw into the conversation. ‘But I suppose at least you’ve all met and I’d rather there wasn’t any violence.’

‘Yeah, lucky escape,’ Blake piped up. ‘There is usually violence involved when we meet your friends, huh, Angela?’

‘Did Jenny hit him?’ Alex asked.

‘No,’ I said quickly, cutting Blake off. Ooh, I knew he was still going to give me grief. ‘Long story which we don’t have time for right now. I don’t know if you remember but we have an interview to do and I don’t think it’s a very good idea to discuss such a sensitive subject out here where everyone can hear, do you?’

‘Let’s go back to the Chateau then.’ James sank his espresso. ‘Car’s downstairs.’

‘There isn’t time,’ I sighed. Stupid boys not doing what they’re told. ‘We’re going to have to do it in my room. Sorry Alex, are you OK up here for a while? We’ll just be a couple of hours.’

‘Sure,’ he nodded. ‘I was joking about my swimsuit, though. But there’s a pretty good record store not far from here; maybe I’ll go check it out.’

‘OK.’ As far as I was concerned, getting Alex out of the hotel was a great idea. Joe was nowhere to be seen right then, but still. ‘I’ll call you when we’re all done.’

‘Why don’t we all go for dinner tonight?’ James suggested. ‘It’s the least I can do, really. Let me take us all somewhere really nice.’

‘Sounds great,’ Alex agreed. ‘We don’t have plans, do we?’

‘What plans could you have?’ Blake asked, beaming at me again.

‘None.’ I pursed my lips. He was loving this. ‘Dinner sounds lovely.’

‘And you’ll bring Jenny, right?’ Blake put his arm around my shoulders as we headed back to the lift.

‘If she’s free.’ I didn’t want to seem too tense. It wouldn’t do any good to have Alex be suspicious of Blake and I didn’t want to piss James off before I got the interview logged.

‘And you know who else you should bring?’ Blake squeezed me in a half-hug. ‘That Joe guy. You know, prove there’s no hard feelings.’

‘Oh, Blake, really?’ James pulled a pained expression and slumped against the wall of the lift.

‘Do you want him selling a story on the back of the interview next week?’ Blake asked. James shook his head. ‘Then we should invite him. Angela?’

I felt like a hobbit in the middle of three six-footers, packed into such a tiny space, all staring at me. ‘Mmm-hmm.’

‘Great, we’ll make a res for six then.’ Blake smiled as the lift pinged at our floor. ‘Maybe Dolce?’

‘Whatever,’ I said, shepherding them out of the lift and turning back to Alex, who yawned noisily, oblivious to Blake’s meddling. Not that he could even know how much trouble he was causing. ‘I’ll see you later?’

‘Later,’ he replied in the deep, dark voice that made my stomach flip. Another quick kiss and then he was gone.

‘All right,’ James said, barely suppressing a big fat grin. ‘So I see what you see in him.’

‘Oh shut up,’ I said, marching off towards my room. ‘We’re so not doing boy talk.’

‘Then what’s the point in being out?’ James moaned, trailing along behind.

Four hours later, I stared at my final draft of the James Jacobs Coming Out interview. There were probably a few too many ‘I was so confused’ and ‘I went through some dark times’ quotes, but peppered liberally with James’s sense of humour and, as much as it pained me, his genuine love for Blake. Plus Blake’s carefully crafted, ‘I never thought of myself as gay, I just fell in love with a man; I think anyone can fall in love with anyone’ line. I had to admit, he was good at his job. Even when reading his coming out interview, thanks to Blake, James Jacobs’s legions of female fans would be able to cling to the hope that they could turn him back.

I attached it to an email and sent it through to Mary, crossing everything. Once it was gone from my sent box, I picked up the phone and dialled Cici.

‘Mary Stein’s office,’ she answered tightly.

‘Hi, Cici. It’s Angela.’

‘Oh, the girl who turned James Jacobs gay,’ she replied flatly. ‘I just want to say thank you so much for fucking your job up so royally that I have to work on Saturday.’

‘Oh, sorry.’ I didn’t really know what else to say. Apart from “HA”, which wouldn’t be very nice. ‘Erm, I just called to confirm my flights for tomorrow.’

‘Three-thirty out of LAX. And Mary wants you in the office at nine on Monday morning. And she said she’d call you once she’d looked at your interview. Which we only just got.’

‘It wasn’t late,’ I protested. ‘Mary said to get it to her for four o’clock your time.’

‘And we’ve all loved sitting in the office all day waiting for it,’ Cici replied. ‘I can’t believe you turned him gay.’

‘You know, he was actually gay before I got here.’

‘Sure he was.’

‘You do know there’s no Father Christmas, don’t you?’

‘Whatever, I’m emailing you the flight details now.’

‘Same deal with the tooth fairy.’

‘Bye girl who turned James Jacobs gay. Try not to bump into Jake Gyllenhaal on your way home.’

Hanging up, I re-read the article once more. It was sweet. I was happy. Flipping down my laptop, I moved over to the wardrobe and pulled out my travel bag. Packing would mean leaving. Leaving would mean never seeing Joe again. Never seeing Joe again would mean Alex could never find out what had happened. And that made me even happier.

Just dinner to get through, but what was I going to wear? Certainly not the jeans I’d filthied in the park, I noticed as I walked by the mirror. Seriously, was no one going to tell me I’d been walking around with dirt all up the backs of my legs all day? I pulled out the green Robert Rodriguez dress I’d worn to meet James. And put it away. No matter how beautiful it was, I didn’t really need to prompt James to tell hilarious stories about me throwing up outside his cottage. Hmm, probably better not wear the yellow Phillip Lim either. One by one, I packed up my new dresses, trying not to think about my credit card bill, until I was left with nothing but a couple of Tshirts and Jenny’s bikini. Not ideal for a sit-down dinner.

Without a better idea, I picked up the phone and called Jenny.

‘Hey honey, everything OK?’ She answered on the first ring for the first time in for ever.

‘Almost,’ I said, throwing unworn underwear in my bag. ‘James and Blake want to take us for dinner tonight. Will you come?’

‘Oh Angie, I don’t know,’ she crackled down the line. ‘Is that a good idea?’

‘Probably not,’ I admitted. ‘But James wants to apologize or something by buying us dinner. And Alex sort of accepted for me and I sort of accepted for you.’

‘So you’re actually calling to tell me I’m coming to dinner?’

‘Yes. But you know, it might be fun?’ I tried. ‘I’m sure we’ll end up somewhere nice and it’ll be good to have a proper night out before we leave LA. One where no one ends up on the front page of Perez Hilton.’

‘Hmm, yeah,’ she said vaguely. ‘It’s just … I was kinda hoping we could do dinner tonight, just me and you. I really need to talk to you.’

‘I know, I feel like I haven’t seen you properly in ages.’ I sniffed my black Kerrigan dress. Nope, couldn’t get another wear out of that. ‘Why don’t we have a goodbye LA drink before dinner. I’m sure Alex won’t miss us for an hour. I don’t suppose you have anything I could borrow to wear, do you, stylist extraordinaire?’

‘I’ll bring you something.’ I could hear a smile in her voice but she still didn’t sound too chipper. ‘What time’s dinner?’

‘Uh, eight?’ I looked at the clock. It was only just after one. ‘Jenny, are you OK?’

‘Let’s just talk later, OK?’ The line was breaking up. ‘I’ll come by your room at six? We’ll get you all hot and then grab that drink.’

‘And you promise not to beat James to death?’

‘I do.’

‘And Alex?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Jenny.’

‘OK, I’ll behave,’ she relented. ‘I just wish we could just do dinner on our own.’

‘You can bring Daphne if she’s about?’ I bargained, even if the thought of adding Daphne to the mix didn’t exactly fill me with joy. I hadn’t seen her since she vanished with a stranger on our big night out at Bar Marmont, and I didn’t feel as though she had been missing me.

‘Yeah, I don’t think so,’ Jenny let me off. ‘Let’s just get that drink.’

‘Well, if you change your mind, Blake is going for a “more the merrier” vibe.’ I took off my flip-flops and dropped them in the travel bag. ‘He wants me to invite Joe.’

‘Oh shit, what did you say?’ she asked. ‘Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that ass-hat. I can beat him to death, right?’

‘I’m sort of relying on not seeing him between now and tomorrow.’ I wandered over to the bed and considered a nap. ‘But if we ever come back to LA, you have my full permission to kick him hard in his face. More than once.’

‘Awesome,’ Jenny cackled. ‘See you at six.’

As Jenny rang off, I heard the door click open.

‘Hey, you done in there or should I go away?’ Alex called through the door.

I smiled. ‘I’m done, you can come in.’

He opened the door fully and held up a plastic bag. ‘Good, I’m all shopped out.’

‘That’s pathetic.’ I took the bag from him and flipped through the CDs. I hadn’t heard of any of the bands but I was sure they were all very cool. ‘You call one carrier bag shopped out. Jenny would laugh in your face.’

‘Jenny laughs in my face all the time.’ He took the CDs from me and placed them on the bedside table. ‘What are the plans for this afternoon, Scoop?’

‘Hmm, I think I have a very important nap to take,’ I said, falling back onto the bed and taking his hands in mine. His pale New York skin had turned pink in the sun. Too cute. ‘You?’

‘I could get behind a nap.’ Alex climbed over me, leaving one leg thrown over mine. ‘But I’m not that tired.’

‘I don’t know what to tell you,’ I said, relaxing back against him. It wasn’t just his face that had caught the sun; he was warm all over. ‘I’m knackered.’

‘You’d better let me do all the work, huh?’ I felt his lips on the back of my neck and closed my eyes. We did have a few hours to kill and it would be a terrible waste of a hotel room if we didn’t, wouldn’t it? As Alex’s hands slid around my waist, I could only think that we should fall out all the time.

‘Knock-knock, the fashion fairy is here,’ Jenny declared, sailing into my room without actually knocking. ‘Oh jeez, I’m supposed to be pissed with you, Brooklyn, could you at least put your pants on?’

I opened my eyes to see Alex sitting at my laptop in his boxers. Bless.

‘OK Lopez,’ he said, grabbing his jeans from the floor. ‘But she’s in my T-shirt so I’m gonna have to take whatever you’ve got in that bag.’

‘Ooh, is that for me?’ I was suddenly very awake. Jenny was holding a very large, stiff bag from – oh, be still my beating heart – Marc Jacobs.

‘It is unless anyone asks, then it’s for Tessa DiArmo.’ With a flourish, Jenny produced a stunning vibrant purple silk shirtdress. ‘What do you think?’

‘Jenny, it’s beautiful,’ I breathed, bounding across the room to get closer to the pretty, pretty dress. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so amazing.’

‘Uh, boyfriend in the room?’ Alex coughed from the table.

‘I know, I’m amazing and, besides, I wanted you to look awesome for your last night with the paps.’ Jenny hung the dress on the front of the wardrobe. ‘So shower fast, wear your Louboutins and get your ass upstairs to the bar. You’ve got thirty minutes.’

Forty minutes later, I was wearing the most expensive outfit that had ever graced my body, the highest heels I’d ever attempted to walk in, and mismatched underwear, as usual. Hopefully Jenny wouldn’t check; she would be so disappointed. I also hoped she’d let me off with the extra ten minutes I’d spent on my smoky-gold eye make-up since it matched the ensemble.

‘You look amazing,’ Alex said, adjusting the delicate gold belt around my waist. ‘Like you forgot your pants and you don’t even care.’

‘I’m wearing my pants,’ I said, confused. Was it too short? Could you see my arse?

‘Language barrier.’ He tugged lightly at the hemline. ‘I meant trousers.’

‘Fashion barrier,’ I said, slapping his fingers. ‘It’s supposed to look like this. See you downstairs later.’ A quick kiss and I was gone. The dress needed to be out where everyone could see it.

Stepping onto the balcony felt different, knowing that it would be the last time I’d see the view, judge the lingering sunbathers. And knowing that I was wearing a fifteen-hundred-dollar dress instead of Jenny’s bikini and a post-wax rash felt pretty good too. Jenny was already at one of the tables, gazing out at the hills and sipping on what looked like her second mojito. For God’s sake, I was only ten minutes late.