The Wrong Girl (13 page)

‘Lil, it's my job to create publicity for the show, and this kind of story – star chef dates a hot model – will get far more ink than some piece on Mel's stupid new charity. Trust me.'

‘Why don't you ask Jack? I reckon he
might
know more than me.' And Lily dropped her head back down to her run sheet.

A sigh. ‘He gets all funny. Says it's not up for discussion, can you believe it? I thought Sasha explained to him how much we need these personal stories out there; I shouldn't have to beg for one bloody quote. Does Sabrina have Facebook? Maybe I'll contact her, models usually love the attention.'

‘Her name is
SIMONE
. And she's not that kind of model, she's smart and funny and successful and actually has a very popular alternative-health blog. That feta, quinoa and pomegranate salad that you loved last week? It was one of
her
recipes.'

Siobhan was shocked at Lily's outburst, but Lily didn't care. She might not be completely in love with the fact that Jack and Simone were a couple, but she'd protect their right to privacy.

‘Fine, I'll go check it out. Sorry if I offended you, Lil. I'm just trying to do my job.'

Lily offered a tight smile and pulled her head back down to her notes, which Siobhan seemed to finally understand as her cue to leave.

Lily parked illegally outside her favourite pizza bar and ran in to pick up a margherita with pineapple. These goddamn heels were the worst to run in, she thought, as she almost flipped onto her back racing to the door. As she yanked the door open, it was pushed from the other side, making her almost lose her footing again.

‘Fuck!' she yelled instinctively, clutching at the door handle to steady herself, her left hand spinning wildly like she was impersonating a bird or doing interpretive aerobics or was impersonating a bird doing aerobics.

She steadied herself and looked up at the man who was asking if she was okay. He was backlit, and she couldn't make out his face, but he looked homeless, from what she could make out. All beard and long, shaggy brown hair.

‘Yeah, fine. Thanks,' she said, opening the door back so he could step out. Which is when she saw that he was actually quite a lovely-looking young man indeed. He smiled, his perfect teeth contrasting with his hobo facial hair, his brown eyes warm and inviting, and walked past her.

Her pizza wasn't quite ready, which was a shame because it meant small talk with Sam, the slimy owner, but she simply pulled up a stool, flicked through a
Cosmo
from four years ago and did her usual routine: ‘No, I'm not married yet, no I'm not looking, no, Sam, I don't think your wife would like that, ha ha ha.'

She heard the bell at the door, but didn't look up. She was thinking about Nikkii, who had been banging on excitedly about Eliza's farewell drinks in the kitchen today, and how she'd organised a special live music act who were ‘soooo amazing, and you won't believe who they are, it was really hard to get them, I'm so amazing, my shoes are so expensive, blah blah blah'.

‘Sammy, you forgot my garlic bread, you snake in the grass.'

It was beard guy. He was a ready-made member of a folk band, with his tight jeans and scuffed boots and shirt done up to his neck. All that was missing was a hat and a banjo.

He smiled at Lily, a dazzling, excited, nervous smile and, grasping his hot bread, slowly turned his body towards her and took a step in.

‘Do you, have you got a boyfriend?' he asked shyly.

Lily, taken back by the forwardness, answered honestly. ‘No.'

‘Cool, cool. So, I know this is really forward, but I think you're, um, very, very pretty, so I thought, I just had a vibe, and I thought I would ask if I could maybe get your number?'

He pulled out his phone slowly, at about the same rate his eyebrows were raising.

Why not, Lily thought. She hadn't been asked out or on a date or even had a kiss for about a decade. He was kind of cute, what harm could it do? Might take the edge off the whole Jack thing nicely. A good distraction.

‘Why not?'

He jabbed her number into his phone and looked up at Lily with an infectious grin.

‘It's Byron, by the way. I'll call you. Or hang on, are you a text girl? I don't want to do the wrong one.'

‘Text is fine.' She gave him her best smile, feeling her confidence quadruple at his interest. ‘And my name is Lily.'

‘Oh man, what a loser, I didn't even ask. Sorry, Lily. Hey, I like that name . . . 
Lily.
'

Lily stood up to collect and pay, and Byron took the hint.

‘ 'Kay. Have a fun night, Lily.'

‘Bye,' she said, smiling and unzipping her wallet to pay. Byron walked out and Lily turned to Sam, who was being particularly vile, but Lily barely noticed, because she'd just been chatted up by a cute guy who was going to text her.

Two hours, one pizza and just shy of one bottle of red wine later, Lily was floating happily. Just her and the lounge tonight – heaven. Simone hadn't mentioned anything about being home, so Lily assumed she was with Jack. Simone had been staying over at Jack's place quite a lot, Lily noted. Things must be going
very
well. Oh well, good for them. May the beautiful people forever enjoy their beautiful lives.

Lily had removed her bra, kicked off her heels and jeans and was wearing her House Pants – Mimi's old business-class pyjamas – with her white T-shirt. Each time she went to the kitchen she saw her boobs through her flimsy T-shirt on the mirrored splashback and cringed. She hated her boobs without a bra; they were so pointy and prepubescent. Simone, on the other hand, rarely wore a bra, partly because her silicone-filled buddies were so perky, and partly because she thought nipples were hot/sexy/cool.

A Rihanna song came on the music channel as Lily flicked through the stations, and she turned it up and started dancing. She tucked her T-shirt back onto itself like she used to do at primary school to reveal her tummy and attempted to do some of the sexier moves she'd never quite mastered but hoped to be able to pull off one day to much male appreciation. Overheating in her house pants, she kicked them off, and started swinging her hips around the lounge room. She dropped to the floor and did a bit of ‘sexy', stripper-esque floor work, assuming the moves of a Beyoncé film clip from about seven years ago she'd always considered the pinnacle of sexy ground dancing, which was a strange category, but one that female pop stars seemed to excel in.

Of course, at this exact moment the key turned in the front door, and, unbeknown to a pissed and gyrating Lily, with the TV up full bore, Simone and Jack walked in.

‘OHMYGOD!' Simone squealed, her hand flying to her mouth at the sight of a near naked Lily rolling around on the floor, one half of her undies wedged up her arse, hair swishing, hands out in front of her like a demented, frenzied tigress. She pushed Jack back out – ‘Baby, I don't think you need to see this' – trying not to laugh, and she closed the door quickly, an act Lily, even in her haze, could see was extremely thoughtful, though Jack had definitely already seen too much.

Lily screamed and crawled quickly behind the sofa, panting and trying to make herself as small as possible, pulling her T-shirt over her knees to cover as much as she could.

‘WHAT ARE YOU
DOING
HERE?' she yelled, holding back with the might of the Hoover Dam the realisation of what had been witnessed, and focusing instead on being not so nude.

‘I live here, you freak!' Simone was laughing now. She grabbed the remote and turned down the TV, still laughing. A lot. She also seemed to have accidentally worn a singlet instead of a dress with her knee-high boots.

‘I have to be upstairs before you let him in,' Lily hissed, needing this to not be happening, doubly needing to be invisible and triply needing to be dressed and far, far away from this horrible, horrible scene.

‘Of course I won't let him in yet, chill, hun.' Simone's enormous smile was doing a pitiful job of concealing just how amused she was.

Lily leaped out from behind the couch and darted up the stairs like Gollum chasing his Precious.

She closed her bedroom door and went limp. She was exhausted – from the dancing, from the wine, but mostly the adrenalin and panic. The ONE night she cuts loose, the ONE night she goes a bit wild, fucking Simone brings Jack over. Thanks for the notice, she thought bitterly. Although to be fair, Lily was usually out, or innocently lying on the sofa watching TV when Simone came home. Sim wasn't to know Shakira had recently moved in.

Lily took a few breaths. She needed to normalise. And put a bra on. Knowing Simone, a huge fan of barging into bedrooms unannounced, the night wasn't over. Lily grabbed her jeans from the floor and jammed them back on. Just as she clipped on a new bra – she had left her old one downstairs – sure enough, Simone barged in, at least having the decency to close the door behind her and lean against it. She looked at Lily in dead seriousness.

‘Okay. Which pills did you take from my bedside drawer – were they the small yellow ones? The large oval blue ones?'

‘
No!
Nothing! Just wine. Red wine. Jesus . . .'

‘Oh, thank God, I was worried for a second there. Yeah, actually, your teeth
are
all red and gross . . .'

‘Cheers.'

‘Ok, so where has THIS Lily been hiding? I love it, babes! More, please!' Simone clapped gaily.

‘Think I needed to let off some steam.'

‘Now, will you come play with me and Jack already?' She opened the door and grabbed for Lily's hand as she did so.

‘No!' Lily said, panicking. ‘I'm a mess, my teeth, the dancing, the boobs, no, not now, come on, no.'

Simone laughed. ‘Brush your teeth then come down.' And she was gone. Fucking bully, Lily thought. She sighed and looked at herself in the mirror, trying to fix her hair. It didn't look
too
bad all mussed up, she had to admit.

Five minutes later Lily gingerly stepped out of her bedroom and ducked into the bathroom to brush her teeth. It was no big deal. Some girls put photos on Instagram that were more naked than he'd seen her just now. It was fine.

Taking a deep breath to magically sober up, she walked out into the hallway and down the stairs.

‘All the way from Alabama, I present Candy, our newest addition to Showgirls!' Simone said, giggling, as Lily clomped reluctantly downstairs. Jack was leaning with both elbows on the breakfast bar and doing a horrendous job of containing his laughter. It was at once strange and familiar seeing him in her home. She resented how together and handsome he looked, and how pretty and confident and smug Simone looked, while she was the at-home-on-a-Friday night loser flatmate.

‘Hey Jack . . . Was just rehearsing for Monday's show, I'm opening with a dance number.' She had practised the line upstairs. She had to make light of it or she would never be able to look him in the eyes again.

‘Good one. Sasha might want you to wear some pants though.'

‘
All
right. That'll do.'

Simone smiled. ‘I
totally forgot
how chummy you two would be cos of the show,' she said to Jack, kissing him on the lips as she took his hand and led him to the table, where they each sat down with a herbal tea. Of course. Poor Jack was probably hoping for a strong espresso and he gets rooibos and rose petals.

‘Hey, we're cooking a huge paella tomorrow night. Grace and Skye are coming over too, then we're going out – are you around?' Simone asked, moving her chair closer to Jack's.

‘Are we?' Jack said, smiling but clearly puzzled.

‘Yeah, to that new club my friend Jason owns. It's opening night and I promised.'

‘I'm not really into clubs. You girls should go though.'

A flicker of irritation crossed Simone's face.

‘You can't
always
wiggle out of going out, Grandpa!' She jabbed him lightly on the chest and kissed him.

‘Um, I have plans, sorry, guys.' Lily interrupted to save Jack. Personally she could not think of a worse evening. Problem was she
didn't
have plans and would now – again – have to find some. This was becoming tedious.

‘Also I despise nightclubs, you know that.'

‘
God
, you two are as boring as each other! You should just stay here and play Scrabble all night while I go cut up the DF.'

‘My paella is pretty good, Woodward, you would really be missing out,' Jack said, turning to face Lily as she paused at the bottom of the stairs, ready to make a getaway.

‘OUR paella, thank you!' Simone added playfully.

‘I'm sure it will be sensational but I'm busy . . . Gosh, you know, all that dancing seems to have taken it out of me. Enjoy your night, guys, I'm out.'

She wanted to yell ‘DO NOT HAVE LOUD SEX OR I WILL SLEEP IN THE CAR AND SO GOD HELP ME, I WILL,' and wondered where her earplugs might be.

‘Night, Lil,' they chimed together, all cute and couple-like and gross, before returning to the conversation about tomorrow night. Lily stomped up the stairs, annoyed that somewhere down there her shitty old bra was lying, winking, waiting for Jack to see it.

‘ . . . I get that, but the club is supposed to be AMAZING, can't you just come for one drink?' she heard Simone saying before she closed the door to her room, and, closing her eyes, leaned back against it for a moment. On one hand, she was relieved that meeting Jack for the first time in her home was over, as unbearably embarrassing as it had been. On the other, she couldn't help feeling a little  . . . crushed? seeing Jack and Simone kissing, together, in her home. Knowing it was going to be a more and more regular thing only compacted the blow.

Why it bothered Lily quite so much vexed her.

The next morning Lily waited and waited, listening for noises of people in the house before getting up, lest her favourite couple be in the kitchen, and Jack catch her with morning hair and sporting the breath of an ox. You've really created a whole new level of stress for me, Sim, she thought angrily. Any other guy and Lily wouldn't have given a burp; she would barely even bother to learn their name, and would slop around the house as usual, but this was
Jack
. She needed to be . . . professional? Pretty? Something. Just not her usual slob self, moosing down toast in her trackies and ugg boots. And that was annoying.
All
of it was annoying.

She opened her door and, hearing silence, walked out gingerly and leaped into the bathroom to clean her face. She saw a rugged, expensive-looking male watch on the vanity and picked it up. Jack's watch. The watch he wore every day. In her hands. Realising what a creep she was being, she gently placed it back, applied some tinted moisturiser and brushed her teeth. Then sprayed some perfume. Why not? Her hair was tousled and messy, but she was starting to prefer it that way with the new length. It was far cooler than she was, and she needed all the help she could get when it came to looking cool.

Walking out into the hallway she cocked an ear, but they'd definitely gone. She walked downstairs, wondering how it had come to pass that the only chap she'd felt something for in a while had decided to fall for one of her best friends. It really was quite remarkable. Her phone buzzed in her hand.

It was a number she didn't recognise.

Who was that? Lily wondered.

Bless him, Lily thought. How many Byrons could any one person possibly know or meet in their life? He was actually, when she thought about it, more Alice's type. Which wasn't the best thought to have when you're supposed to be interested in getting to know a guy.

How boring. She really needed to get better at this. And the ellipsis; how predictable. She never used them in real life, just when texting boys.

So forward! Lily kind of liked it. She hoped it wasn't just because it had been so long since a guy had shown interest. Or because seeing Jack and Simone together had ignited something strange and covetous within her.

She had always been rubbish at playing hard to get.

She texted back,

There was a pause. Lily's heart was racing with the fun of it all, and the anticipation of a drink with a guy who
had
said she was ‘very, very pretty'.

She laughed.

Lily congratulated herself for passing Flirting Basics, Level 1.

Why don't you give him your pin number and blood type while you're at it, she could hear Mimi hissing in her head. Oh well. He seemed nice enough.

Lily chucked her phone down and flopped back onto the sofa. What an odd twenty-four hours it had been.