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Authors: Lindsey Kelk

I Heart Paris (35 page)

BOOK: I Heart Paris
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‘You don’t understand! Postmen have to get up so early. And I’ll have to ride a bike.’ I sat down on the windowsill. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to have to be a postman.’

‘Right.’ Alex walked over to the window and held my shoulders in his hands, squeezing until I looked up at him. ‘Angela Clark. You don’t have to be a postman.’

‘I don’t?’

‘No,’ he replied. ‘Or a bin man. Whatever that is. All you have to do right now, is calm down, remember what Mary said, and chill.’

‘You know I can’t “chill”,’ I frowned, ‘I’m English. We don’t know how to chill. At best I can try to keep calm and carry on.’

‘If that’s what works for you.’ He slid his hands up from my shoulders to cup my face. ‘You’re going to be fine. It’s all going to be fine. You just need a distraction.’

‘Really, not right now,’ I said wearily. Honestly, I was shattered, was he trying to kill me?

‘Not that,’ Alex laughed and sat down next to me on the windowsill. ‘I was thinking about something else.’

‘It’s going to have to be a pretty big distraction.’ I scooted up the sill so he would have room to sit. It helped that his arse was about half the size of mine. ‘What have you got in mind?’

‘Packing.’ He laced his fingers through mine. ‘You’re moving in with me today.’

‘I am?’ I asked. A tiny thrill raced down my spine, cutting through the jet lag and the stress.

‘You are,’ he confirmed. ‘You’re gonna go lie down while I get some boxes and shit, then we’re going to start taking stuff over to my place. Our place.’

‘Is that right?’ I felt a tiny smile start on my face. And it wasn’t just because he’d said I could have a nap.

‘It is.’ Alex closed his bright green eyes and planted a kiss on the tip of my nose. ‘So go get some rest. You’re gonna need your strength to cook my dinner tonight, woman.’

‘Don’t you “woman” me,’ I warned, striding off into the bedroom. And silently planning his dinner. I was a terrible feminist.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

‘And this is the living room,’ I said into the computer, carrying it out of the bedroom. ‘We’re getting new couches so don’t look at those, they’re covered in all sorts of crap.’

‘New what, Angela Clark?’ Louisa laughed through the computer as I placed my laptop carefully on the coffee table. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t speak American.’

‘Settees,’ I over pronounced. ‘Apologies, I’m bilingual now. I also say trash and candy and sweater. You have to be. If you come over here wanting to buy a courgette or an aubergine, I’ve got to tell you, you’re going to be struggling.’

‘Whatever.’ She gave me the finger. Skype was the best invention ever. ‘Well, it looks like a lovely apartment. Those views of Manhattan are amazing.’

‘Right?’ I said, cracking open a bottle of white wine. ‘It’s awesome.’

‘Right?’ Louisa parroted. ‘Do you have to say it at the end of every sentence? We’re losing you. I’m so concerned about your influence over this baby.’

‘I will be nothing, but perfection around my godson-slash-daughter,’ I promised, pointing to the scan I had printed out and stuck to the fridge. ‘See how dedicated I am already? Alex asked me to take it down because it was putting him off his food.’

‘I just think it’s weird that you have a picture of your best friend’s insides taped to the place we keep our food,’ Alex defended himself, yelling from the bedroom. ‘Hey, Louisa.’

‘Hello Alex,’ Louisa shouted back. ‘Sorry we interrupted your shower.’

I blushed at the screen, laughing as Lou winked back.

‘You realize I can see you both, right?’ Alex stuck his damp head around the living-room door.

‘Right?’ Louisa cackled.

‘Aw, screw you guys!’ Alex vanished back into the bedroom.

‘Ignore him,’ I said, settling on a couch with my glass of wine. ‘He should be dressed by now anyway.’

‘I’m gutted I couldn’t come to your party.’ Lou sulked through the screen. ‘But Tim couldn’t get away, and he didn’t like the idea of me flying without him. I know it’s rubbish, I’m sorry.’

‘Not at all.’ I waved away her apology. ‘I’m glad he’s taking care of you and my godson-slash-daughter.’

‘If I tell you what we’re having, will you please stop calling him or her that?’ Lou sighed. ‘Honestly, I’ve known for nearly a week and it’s killing me.’

‘I told you I don’t want to know!’ I shouted, covering my ears. ‘Seriously, it’s so exciting! I want it to be a surprise.’

‘I’m glad it’s exciting for you,’ Lou rested a hand on her practically non-existent bump. ‘Finding out I was nearly five months along was a big enough surprise for me.’

‘That’s fair enough,’ I agreed, gutted that Louisa had missed out on months of knowing she was pregnant, but secretly delighted that I would have a baby to spoil so soon. The new Little Marc Jacobs line was so incredibly cute. ‘I’m sure there will be more to surprise you later on.’

‘Don’t say things like that,’ she said, holding her hand up to her forehead. ‘Let’s just get this one out of the way first.’

The doorbell buzzed, making me jump and spill half my glass of wine on to the sofa. ‘Shit,’ I whispered, rubbing it frantically.

‘I won’t tell,’ Louisa promised. ‘Just pull that throw over it. Didn’t you say you were getting new sofas anyway?’

‘Good point.’ I pointed at the screen and then followed her advice. Good as new. ‘I’d better get the door.’

‘I’d better go anyway, it’s really late,’ Louisa said, waving through the computer. ‘Have a lovely housewarming party, me and the baby wish we were there.’

‘Love you both,’ I said, blowing kisses into the monitor. ‘And I suppose Tim.’

Closing the laptop up and sliding it under the sofa to avoid any further damage to its cracked casing, I jumped up, rearranged my gorgeous pink and orange Marc by Marc Jacobs striped party dress (Alex had suggested it was overkill for a house party with a bunch of our friends, but I had politely declined to take his fashion advice) and went to the door.

‘Alex, people are here,’ I shouted into the bedroom, buzzing a whole group of people up. Holding open the door, I kissed them all hello. Graham and his boyfriend. Craig and his latest, well, I wouldn’t say girlfriend, but she was a girl and they seemed very friendly. Vanessa and some of the girls from The Union followed, with Erin and Thomas and about a dozen of Alex’s other friends from around Brooklyn.

‘Alex, can you put some music on?’ I asked, about to shut the door when a gorgeous pair of leather flip-flops blocked it.

‘You’re gonna shut the door on me?’ a voice wailed from the hallway.

‘Jenny!’ I screeched, grabbing her by the neck and wrapping her up in a huge hug. ‘I didn’t know you were coming!’

‘Can you believe that we actually managed to keep a secret from you for almost a whole week?’ Alex leaned against the other side of the door frame, looking extraordinarily pleased with himself.

‘Oh you great big pair of bastards,’ I said, so happy I could have cried. ‘You should have told me. Do you have any bags?’

‘Nope, they’re all at the apartment,’ Jenny said, taking in my outfit. ‘Cute. Very cute.’

She wasn’t looking too shoddy herself, her tiny tanned frame just about covered by a slip of aqua silk. ‘Vena Cava,’ she confirmed, not waiting to be asked. ‘Awesome, right?’

‘Absolutely,’ I agreed, taking another glass of wine from Alex. ‘So you’ve been back to the apartment? How long are you staying?’

‘I have, and well, maybe for good?’ she said, peeking at me from behind a cascade of unruly curls. ‘I was thinking, maybe New Yorkers should only do LA in small doses.’

‘Honestly? Oh Jenny, that’s amazing!’ I tried not to splash wine on the pair of us as I went in for a second hug. ‘I am so so happy. Yes, stay, don’t go back.’

‘You just want me for the discounted shopping.’ She laughed, but I could tell she was happy for the warm welcome. As if I would ever give her anything else. ‘I figure I can work just as much in New York as I can in LA. There are still people here with too much money and not enough sense, right?’

‘Definitely,’ I nodded. ‘Oh, I’m so happy. But I’m sad that we won’t be roommates.’

‘I’m not moving you back over the river,’ Alex, butted in. ‘I can’t believe how much shit you had. And that’s after half of it got blown up.’

‘Please, I’m not having her back,’ Jenny said, chugging her first glass of wine and passing the empty back to a passing and already smitten Craig. Apparently his date was forgotten. ‘Van is moving out this weekend and I kinda thought it might be nice to live by myself for a while. You know, after Daphne’s escapades. I’m gonna turn the spare room into an office.’

‘Well, I’m still coming over for
Top Model
,’ I declared, hugging her again. I knew that I was grinning like an idiot and I didn’t care.

‘Damn right you are,’ Jenny agreed, brushing my hair over my shoulder. It was getting so long. ‘But you’re bringing the beers. Damn, I missed you, Angie.’

‘I missed you too,’ I said, getting the same pang I had the last time I hugged Louisa. Except this time, I got to keep Jenny. ‘Now let go of me so I can go and pee.’

‘Don’t you dare pee on this dress,’ Jenny said, releasing me instantly. ‘It’s one hundred per cent silk.’

‘And it would look even more beautiful on my bedroom floor,’ Craig purred in her ear, holding out his hand. ‘I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Craig.’

‘Tell me you didn’t just say that?’ Jenny stared at Craig with a blank expression. ‘Damn boy, you are going about this in all the wrong ways.’

I dashed off to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Smiling into the mirror, I held a piece of tissue underneath each eye, trying to catch the tears before they fell and spoiled my carefully applied messy make-up. It was almost a week since we’d got back from Paris, I was all moved in to Alex’s apartment and nearly all healed from my double black eye. I still hadn’t heard anything from Mary about getting my job back, but I had received a written apology from Cici and a cheque for two thousand dollars. It wouldn’t nearly cover what had been ruined, but I appreciated the effort that Mary must have gone through and it gave me hope that I’d be able to get my job back somehow, some day. Until then, I was pitching my arse off to UK magazines and getting by on my column. And generally not thinking about the immigration issue.

There was a quiet knock before the handle turned, and Alex stuck his head through the door before I realized I hadn’t locked it.

‘You OK?’ he asked with a soft smile. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Jenny, I thought it would be a nice surprise.’

‘It is,’ I said, flapping my hands in front of my face. ‘I’m so happy.’

‘And so you’re crying because?’ he slipped into the tiny bathroom and shut the door behind him.

‘Because I’m happy,’ I repeated. ‘Honestly. Moving in, having Jenny back, they’re happy tears.’

‘You don’t regret not staying in London?’ he asked, wiping a stray tear away with a gentle thumb.

‘Nope,’ I said, my voice thick and popping on the p. ‘I do miss Lou and I suppose even my mum, but I want to be here. I felt an awful lot worse when Mary said I could lose my visa than I did when I got back on the train to Paris.’

‘We’ll figure it out,’ Alex promised. ‘We will. It’s just paperwork. It’s nothing.’

I nodded, hoping he was right.

‘Are you two rutting in there?’ Jenny yelled through the door. ‘Because you have guests, so it’s really fucking rude. And I need to pee.’

I shook my head and pushed past Alex, opening the door to Jenny, hand on hip, one eyebrow raised so high I was worried it might fall off her face altogether.

‘Dude, control yourself when you have company,’ she said, slapping Alex lightly around the head. ‘She’s living with you now, it’s like you have hot and cold running Angela, twenty-four-seven. You can’t wait until we go home?’

Someone had turned off the big light during our intermission in the bathroom, and switched on the fairy lights I’d hung earlier in the week, despite Alex’s concerns that they might make the apartment look like the Playboy grotto. But they did not. They looked awesome. Twinkling around the window, they framed the blinking lights of Manhattan, the Empire State Building lit up green, the Chrysler building glowing like an upside down ice-cream cone, and the rest of the city flashing away, just to let us know it was there. Life went on.

‘Do you need anything?’ Alex asked, putting a hand around my waist while I looked at the happy scene in our apartment.

‘Uh-uh.’ I shook my head, turning in towards him for a kiss. Lipgloss be damned.

‘You don’t want anything?’

‘I have everything I need and everything I want,’ I replied, squeezing him tightly, watching Jenny roll her eyes at whatever bullshit story Craig was telling her, glancing at Louisa’s scan photo stuck up on the fridge.

And for that moment at least, it was absolutely true.

Acknowledgements

Massive thanks enough to everyone at HC, especially Lynne, Victoria, Claire and Sarah. Kate and Lucy, you’re amazing. Lee, thank you for making the covers so incredibly beautiful that people pick the book up in the first place. Wendy, thank you for convincing buyertypes to put it in the shops so people can see the pretty cover. Liz & Kiera, excellent work ladies. And to everyone else, as an ex-HCUKer, I totally appreciate what amazing stuff you’re doing for me and I’m so proud to work with you in any capacity.

I also want to say super special thanks to Sam ‘The Butcher’ Hutchinson and Jane ‘Gaga’ Griffiths for making our Parisian research so much fun but then, I always say that, don’t I? Thanks to Jenny Jacoby and all her friends for their hints and tips and ‘a sparky young monger named Hugh’ and to the man on Rue Oberkampf with the bottle of vodka…That answer’s still no, thank you.

To everyone that helped me make New York feel like home; the World’s Best Roomies, Ro and Shirin, Beth, Janet, Kari, Sarah (B/HS! B/HS!), Erin, Brenna, Rachael, the America’s Next Top Model Watching Collective and everyone who has laughed with me, instead of at me. Appreciated. And finally for all the red-headed Texan poets in my life. I would like to acknowledge their abundant inspiration, encouragement and physical attractiveness. And the fact that they had the balls to suggest I put this in here. Ask and ye shall receive.

BOOK: I Heart Paris
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