Styling Wellywood: A fashionable romantic comedy (Wellywood Series Book 2) (9 page)

“
I think that’s a great idea. Where are you at in the process?”

“
Just concept right now really, but I’m hoping to take it to the next level and find some investors soon.”

“Well
, good luck, Scott. I really hope you make it become a reality. Sounds like you’re really excited about it.” Which makes you even hotter, I add quietly to myself.

“
Watch this space, you know.”

There it is again. 
Just concentrate on how hot he is, Jess.

He smirks at me.
“You’re a big mojito girl, are you?”

“
On occasion,” I lie, trying not to appear like a total lush.

“
I like you Jessica. You’re real, you know?”

Good to see I’m a convincing liar
, what with my fake Englishness and pseudo teetotal tendencies. He puts his hand on mine, causing electric shock waves to jerk up my arm and down my spine.

“
I really want to get to know you better.”

It seems
pretty clear now he’s interested in me. I think I’m melting. Yep, definitely.

“
Oh crap. Laura!” I say as I jump out of my seat, breaking the spell.

I l
ook at my watch. It’s already after eleven-thirty and I haven’t showered or changed yet. I so don’t want to leave but I know I have to.

“
I really have to go, Scott. I’m sorry.” I stand up to leave. “I’m meant to be meeting a friend for lunch and have an important meeting afterwards. I really have to run.”

He looks around the bar and then grabs my hand, pulling me up.

“That’s a shame, Jessica. But hey, come with me a sec. There’s something I want to show you.”

He leads me by the hand down the hall at the back of the bar and into a
closet filled with sports clothing. I look around wondering why on Earth he wants to show me this when he turns around and puts his hand around my waist, drawing me to him.

“
I really like you, Jessica,” he says huskily into my ear.

He
leans in to kiss me, pressing his body against mine. It’s so unexpected but so unbelievably thrilling at the same time. As his lips meet mine for a second time my body responds straight away and I feel myself dissolving into the kiss.

I
t’s all I can do to pull myself away, oh so very reluctantly.

“
Laura’s going to be really pissed off with me if I don’t leave now, Scott. I’m so sorry.” I kiss him again and move away from him towards the door.

He breaths in deeply,
seems to collect himself and then says in a more controlled voice, “Give me your number so we can do this again. Soon.”

He’s so s
exy I’m powerless to refuse. I give him my one of my cards before I say a quick goodbye and dash down to the changing rooms.

I entertain the
concept of a cold shower in order to snap myself out of reliving his delectable kiss. But after about one nanosecond of ice-cold water hammering on my defenceless body I decide perhaps mind control and a nice, civilised, warm shower will do the trick.

I
scramble to do my makeup and throw on my clothes, leaving the club to head to Laura’s, all the while smiling to myself at the thought of Scott and what’s to come.

After driving around the streets of Kilbirnie, an affordable suburb close to the city, in a state of mild panic at how late I am for lunch, I finally find the address Laura gave me. I parallel park in what can only be described as a creative manner, and run up to her door. Shit! I forgot to buy the coffee! Too late, she answers the door and greets me with an enthusiastic but nevertheless very quiet, “Hello”.

“
The boys have been asleep for about one hour ten so they might wake up if we make too much noise, ok?” she whispers.

She
gives me a really warm hug and says, “Wow, Jess, you look so great, and it’s just wonderful to see you.”

All my concerns about weirdness have disappeared, thank goodness.

“Thanks, Laura. It’s great to see you. You look… great too.”

Oh but she doesn’t. To be perfectly honest s
he looks absolutely terrible. Last time I saw her at her wedding about two years ago she would have won a Halle Berry look-a-like competition, but looking at her today she’s more Worzel Gummidge than a Hollywood A-lister.

She’s dressed in the most unflattering sweatshirt and track
pants ensemble I’ve seen since our portly Year Twelve gym teacher, Ms. Gulliver, hit menopause and decided fashion was no longer a priority in her world. Messy ponytails may very well be fashionable right now but not the way Laura’s tied hers, which is pointing out at weird angles. She looks like she averages about two hours of sleep a night.

Breathing in accidentally as I hug her back I detect a definite whiff of eau de puke
. I can almost hear Mum’s voice saying, “she’s let herself go” in the back of my head. Looking at Laura beaming in front of me, I now have a prime example of what she means.

“
Come through. Sandwiches are on the table and we can talk properly there. Let’s sit down, we have so much to catch up on!”

I follow Laura through the dimly lit hall and into a modest but
nicely put together living room with polished wooden floors, a lovely open fireplace and loads of photos of Laura, Kyle and their two children all over the Magnolia walls. She’s clearly very proud of her family, but there are so many photos of them I almost expect her to invite me to kneel down in front of them, burning incense and chanting while I ring bells in homage.

I
nstead I comment, “Great photos, Laura. Your boys are such sweeties. I’ve been following them on Facebook, of course, but I’m so excited to actually meet them in the flesh.”

“
You will when they wake up, but right now it’s good they’re sleeping. Believe me, Jess, if they were awake right now we would not be able to have anything even vaguely resembling an adult conversation. Anyway, I can’t get over how great you look. You’re almost glowing.”

At the memory of my recent sports kit
closet adventures I feel my cheeks beginning to blush, so I deflect her attention from my glow by casually commenting, “Oh it’s the tennis. I’m doing this tennis fitness thing at the Capital City Club. It’s a great workout.”

For my libido as well as my fitness
, if this morning is anything to go by.

“
Well, it’s working for you. Now, sit down. Oh,” she pauses, looking around, “where are the coffees? I
so
need one after the morning I’ve had with the boys.”

I feel really sheepish.

“Sorry, Laura, I was in such a rush to get here that I totally forgot. I promise to bring them next time, with chocolate fish?”

“
Oh well,” she responds, clearly disappointed, “I can put the kettle on for us. Let’s eat and catch up before the boys wake up. Tell me all about being back. Who you’ve seen, what’re you up to, all the good stuff.”

I regale her with stories of
Estil, Morgan, and my redecorated childhood bedroom.

“
And as I said, I bumped into your good mate Brooke yesterday. She’s certainly ‘aerobicized’ these days, isn’t she?”

I sit down at the table and help myself to one of the
ham and cheese sandwiches Laura clearly hastily prepared, no doubt while balancing a baby on each arm, Supermum style.

“
I know,” she replies, clearly impressed with her friend. “She’s one focused woman. I used to see her a bit before I had the boys, always so busy with her business. I think I told you she’s a life coach. She runs these amazing seminars. I did one and it really helped me.”

She looks at me meaningfully.
Laura’s always ‘working on herself’ and expects everyone else to do the same. Some of us are cut out for that sort of thing and some of us are just not. I’m a dedicated follower of the latter approach, that’s for sure. Much more pleasant than doing endless soul searching and theorising about why life’s worked out the way it has for you.

Just get on with it, I say.

“
Brooke’s living with a really hot guy,” Laura continues. “Younger than her I think, some sort of sportsman.”

She pauses to
recall, looking out of the window onto her small lawn, littered with baby paraphernalia.

“
A basketball player? Oh I can’t remember. I only met him once and sport’s really not my thing, as you know. Baby brain,” she shrugs, smiling self-deprecatingly. “You’ll know what I mean one day when you have your own. Anyway, I think she’s a total inspiration. You should give her a chance, Jess, she’s actually really nice.”

Not feeling in the least bit convinced I rev
ert to the wounded fifteen-year-old barely simmering under the surface.

“
But she’s a
‘
Narci’, Laura!” I blurt out before I can stop it.

“
Oh come on, that’s high school stuff! You’re not seriously still hung up on that now, are you?” she laughs before taking a bite of her sandwich.

“
Well, when I next see her I’ll give her a big hug and ask her to be my friend.”

What’s that
expression? Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit? Well, I guess I just brought the conversation down to a new low right now, but old wounds can take a long time to heal. Brooke’s hardly tried to re-establish our friendship herself, so I don’t see why I should be the one to initiate anything. Let Laura be friends with her, but I don’t have to have any part in it.

I change the subject.
“I just can’t quite believe my best friend from Year Nine is all grown up with a couple of babies of her own. Seriously, you seem really happy, Laura. Do you love being a mum?”

“
Oh I do! I absolutely love it, Jess. I can’t tell you how much. Oh I can’t wait for you to meet my boys, they’re so wonderful.”

She has that smiley, happy, contented look mothers often seem to have, that is when they don’t look
utterly exhausted from the sleep-deprivation or so angry their pink, steaming heads look likely to pop right off.

“
I think motherhood was what I was put on the planet to do,” she continues. “All the ladder climbing and worrying about your career feels so insignificant in comparison with what I’m doing now. Do you know what I mean? I could happily do it forever, but I’ll have to go back to my old job once the boys turn one. I’m not looking forward to putting them in care and having someone else share all that precious time with them.”

She looks so
sad when she says this, but then perks up a bit with, “But I need to do my bit too. We need my salary just to pay the bills. Not all of us have a Darling Dave, do we?”

She gives me a wry smile.
For all Dave’s dullness he is what wealthy people call
‘
comfortable’, a euphemism for absolutely loaded as far as I can see.

“
No, right? Although I’ve never really got those two. Anyone with half a brain can see why Dave’s with Morgan, but what she sees in him is beyond me.”

“
That’s a bit harsh, Jess. Dave’s such a sweetie, and really good for Morgan.”

Laura
seems to be lost in thought for a moment, then sighs and continues, “It was a pretty rough time, you know, just before they got together, what with Lindsay and all. You’d taken off for London, and I think Morgan was feeling pretty vulnerable. She needed some emotional stability, someone she could rely on, and Dave is the sort of guy who can provide that for her.”

Swallowed a self-help book
have we, Laura?

“
Maybe,” I reply, looking down at my hands.

I’d wondered how long it would be before
someone would mention what happened to Lindsay, and now Laura has I suddenly feel cold.

We both sit
at the table in awkward silence until Laura asks, “Have you been to see Cindy and Todd? I think they’d really love it if you popped around. Things haven’t been that great for them, you know.”

“
You sound like Mum,” I reply with a small laugh, attempting to change the solemn atmosphere. “I will, I’ve just been pretty busy since I got back.”

I know thi
s sounds like a flimsy excuse, but I’ve been putting it off for good reason. As I said, Cindy and Todd Whitman are Lindsay’s parents. Linds was part of our group, the life and soul of it really. Before I moved to London and Morgan moved in with Darling Dave, Lindsay had died. She was only twenty-three, and we’d all taken it pretty hard at the time.

We’
d been such great friends, so close for so long, and Linds was one of those people who just lit up a room when she was in it. Her death was like our loss of innocence, in a way. None of us had been close to anyone who had died, other than Laura whose granddad had died when she was a teenager, but dying in old age is expected really, so this felt different. Just wrong, really.

Lindsay’s death changed that for us, and with that change came the shocking realisation anyone can die. I know that’s pointing out the
bloody obvious, but until I was twenty-three, I really hadn’t given death a second thought. It felt so far off for me and for anyone I knew or cared about.

But then it was here
, right in front of us and we were being forced to deal with it.

Breaking the silence I
change the subject.

“
Caught up with Ben last night at a surprisingly cool bar in Courtenay Place. He’s on great form.”

“
Oh, good. We saw him at the weekend. He’s such a doll and so good with the boys. You two really should get it together, you know. I know I’ve said it before. You’d have beautiful babies.”

And t
here it is. Another friend living on ‘planet relationship’ trying to match-make me. But this time she’s upping the stakes to include the creation of offspring.

Well t
hat’s new.

“
Maybe some day,” I laughingly reply, fobbing her off. “Actually, I’ve sort of met someone, but it’s too early to know what it is, exactly. Just watch this space, I guess.”

I can’t help smiling as I
think of Scott, and my heart gives a perceptible leap.

“
Already? Fast work, Jess,” laughs Laura. “You
have
been busy.”

I look at my watch.
“Speaking of being busy, I have to get going. We’ve got another new client and I need to meet Morgan in, ummmm,” I check the text from her with the details I received last night, “Kelburn. Wow, that’s the other side of town. Sorry, Laura, but I’ve gotta go.”

I get up
from the table and grab my things.

“
Thanks so much for the lunch. I’ll have to come back to meet the boys when they’re awake.”

I grab the presents I brought back from London for them from my bag.

“I got them at this gorgeous baby boutique on the King’s Road in Knightsbridge. D&G Junior,” I say with pride.

“
D&G?” Laura asks, looking perplexed. “What’s that? Sounds like an insecticide.”

S
he’s acting as though she wouldn’t know an Italian designer if one walked up and smacked her in the face with one of their fabulous handbags.

“
Dolce & Gabbana
, of course.”

I’d got two
adorable little gift sets of body suits and bibs for the boys. They were expensive but I figured Laura was my first friend to have babies and I was allowed to spoil them a little bit.

“
Err, thanks, Jess. You shouldn’t have,” she replies a little dubiously as she takes the beautifully wrapped presents from me.

“
Anything for one of my besties,” I reply, giving her a quick kiss. “I’ll call you about coming over when the boys are awake.”

I rush
down the hall and out the door, slamming it behind me. The last thing I hear as I head down the path is the sound of two babies screaming their heads off, having just been woken abruptly from their slumber by an inconsiderate loud bang.