It Had to Be You (12 page)

Work was even more hectic than normal. Antonia had taken herself off on a two-day retreat in West Sussex, where there was apparently no phone reception, so Lizzy was left to deal with Jocasta’s Zen Ten hysterics as well as her own clients. She spent a whole hour on the phone to Brian Baxter one morning discussing whether an ‘and’ should be left in the press release for Santa’s Little Helper. The Haven team was meant to take turns doing the company Twitter feed, but it was usually left to Lizzy to do. Having had no interest in social media until now, Antonia had ordered Lizzy to tweet 24/7. Coming up with new ways to talk about suppositories and man flu every thirty minutes was quite a challenge.

Reuben, or ‘Hot Depressed Guy’ as Nic was now calling him, had been WhatsApping her all week. He really was quite sweet and funny, and his spelling and punctuation were excellent. It was a shame, Lizzy reflected. It wasn’t the poor bloke’s fault he’d had his heart broken. Poppet, who was a sucker for trying to save a tortured soul, thought Lizzy should give him another chance.

Antonia breezed back in on Thursday lunchtime five pounds lighter and with reams of wooden beads round her neck. She dumped the latest
Vogue
on Lizzy’s desk.

‘Page one hundred and nine: article on healing crystals. Why aren’t we in there?’

If Lizzy had problems managing her client expectations, managing her boss’s expectations took it to a whole new level. The
Vogue
piece had insightful interviews with some of the most respected reiki masters in the world. Never in a million years would they have included quotes from some bloke with a dodgy moustache and beard calling himself Shaman Ron.

Lizzy carried on flicking through the magazine and got rather a shock when she suddenly saw the face of Amber de la Haye looking back at her. It was an exclusive interview with the fashion designer. Lizzy felt an unpleasant jolt in her stomach. Half of her was still expecting Elliot Anderson to make an official complaint to Antonia about Lizzy’s seeming one-woman vendetta against him.

The photo shoot was of Amber floating around ethereally on a deserted beach. ‘Ex model, animal-rights activist, darling of the fashion world,’ the rapturous sell declared. ‘Are there any more strings Amber de la Haye can add to her gilded bow?’

The journalist who had done the interview was clearly besotted:

Amber de la Haye greets me barefoot at the door of her Chelsea townhouse looking exquisite in Donna Karan cashmere, her Italian rescue whippet Frieda hovering at her heels. Despite prior warning from Amber’s PR that the designer was ‘dead from exhaustion’ from working round the clock on her new collection, there is no hint of tiredness etching the intoxicating features. ‘Come in!’ she says delightfully. ‘I’ve got a batch of green tea biscuits cooling in the kitchen.’

There were a few paragraphs paying homage to Amber’s stunning home and baking skills before Elliot’s name was brought up.

There is no sign of Amber’s fiancé, ITV
News at Ten
pin-up boy Elliot Anderson, and Amber is charmingly reticent about their relationship. ‘Elliot’s a very private person,’ she says by way of apology. ‘I don’t think it’s fair talking about him.’ The pair are set to marry next summer and the location is tipped as the Italian Riviera. Surely it’s a given that she’ll be walking down the aisle in one of her own creations? There is a delightful peal of laughter. ‘I haven’t even thought about it yet!’

They make an unlikely pair, the radiant, eclectic designer who counts Cara Delevingne and Kate Moss as close friends and the serious, single-minded journalist who is being tipped by some as the next Jeremy Paxman. Dare we ask – what do they have in common?

Amber’s brown eyes open wide as if the answer were obvious. ‘Elliot and I are soulmates. I couldn’t imagine life without him.’

Hmm
, Lizzy thought. They hadn’t looked like soulmates when Lizzy had seen them. In fact, Amber had seemed sick to the back teeth of her moody fiancé.

‘Have you finished?’ Bianca asked. ‘I want to see who I know in “Bystander”.’

Ten minutes later Lizzy got another message from Reuben.

Hey. What are you up to? Isn’t your boss back today? x

Lizzy smiled. He
was
good at remembering stuff.

She’s just walked in
, she wrote back.
So far no dramas! X

A minute later her phone beeped again.

Short notice but do you fancy dinner tomorrow night? Xx

Antonia was advancing. Lizzy shoved her phone under a pile of newspapers. Her boss rested her huge bottom on the edge of Lizzy’s desk.

‘How did it go with chappy?’

Lizzy had made the mistake of telling Bianca about her date, and Bianca had promptly told Antonia. ‘It was good,’ she said cautiously. ‘He’s a nice guy.’

‘Is there going to be a second date?’ Bianca asked.

Antonia chortled loudly. ‘Of course there’s not! She’ll have fucked it up somehow.’

‘As a matter of fact,’ Lizzy said huffily, ‘I’m seeing him tomorrow night. He’s just asked me out for dinner.’

After Antonia had waddled away, Lizzy messaged him back.
Love to x

He came back almost immediately.

How about coming over to mine? Xx

Dinner at his? On a second date? With only a day’s notice? Lizzy glanced across at Bianca, who was watching something with lots of sirens wailing on her phone. She got her Facebook page up. By some miracle Nic and Poppet were both online.

Eek! Reuben has just asked me to go over to his place for dinner tomorrow!!
she typed.

Nic messaged back first.

And??

Lizzy:
It’s a Friday night! Isn’t it a bit weird he hasn’t got plans?

Nic:
His usual rendezvous with the dominatrix dwarf must have fallen through.

Lizzy:
LOLZ. What if he’s an axe murderer, though, or he’s going to tie me up and throw me in his basement? Hold on, he’s just sent me another message. It says: Don’t worry. I live with a flat mate and he’ll vouch I’m not an axe murderer
x

Nic:
He wants SEX off you.

Poppet replied after a couple of minutes.

Sorry. Just been having a poo. It’s only your second date!! Too soon for sex yet!!

Nic:
Pops, did you know these days people are allowed to sleep together before they get married?

Hang on
, Lizzy wrote back.
I might not have sex with him at all!! Xx

Nic:
THREAD OF THE PENIS.

Antonia swished past again on her mobile. ‘Don’t let work interrupt your social life,’ she told Lizzy. ‘Hello, yes? Can I make a reservation for dinner?’

Lizzy clicked back on to the press release she’d been writing about anal fissures and waited until Antonia had gone. When she went back on Facebook there was another message from Poppet.

He IS hot!

Make sure you give us the address
, Nic had added.
And have a clear escape route to the front door.

Poppet had the final word.

Don’t forget condoms!!!!!!!!
xoxoxo

Lizzy was in a state of nervous excitement all day. The prospect of possibly having sex again – with a total hottie – had thrown her into a tizzy. Would she even remember how to do it? What if Justin’s face popped into her mind at the crucial moment of entry and ruined it? Penis thread aside, there was also a more pressing issue at hand.

She called Nic at lunchtime. ‘I’m not sure whether to get a bikini wax.’

‘What kind of bush scenario are we talking here?’

‘Well, I haven’t had it done professionally since me and Justin split up, but I’ve been kind of keeping an eye on things.’

‘I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger, extra onions,’ Nic said to someone.

‘Where are you?’ Lizzy asked.

‘Having lunch with some work mates.’

‘Nic!’

‘What? You called me. Look, the best thing to do is send me a picture.’

‘Of what?’

‘What do you think?’

‘You want me to send you a picture of my
bush
? Sorry,’ Lizzy said to the woman behind the counter in Boots.

‘What’s the big deal? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.’

Lizzy paid for her meal deal and walked out of the shop. ‘I am not sending you a beaver shot!’

‘I won’t be able to tell without looking. Remember, Elizabeth, this could be a deal-breaker.’

Lizzy looked across the road at the Starbucks she got her coffee from in the mornings. ‘If you put this up on Facebook I will hunt you down and kill you.’

She came out of the coffee-shop toilet five minutes later and sent Nic a photo.

Are you trying to put me off my lunch?
came the reply.