Lindsey Kelk 5-Book 'I Heart...' Collection (120 page)

‘I can see you don’t love it.’ He turned away with a flourish and headed back into a rail of outfits. ‘Take it off.’

Since he’d come behind the screen and seen me in my knickers twice already, I didn’t see a lot of point in bothering again and so I struggled out of the sticky leather right there in the middle of the room. Jenny, nose deep in a copy of Us Weekly and sipping a champagne flute full of the finest hair of the dog, did not comment.

‘This one next.’ He held out a gorgeous sapphire-blue gown that looked much more workable. ‘Alice and Olivia. Cute but still sexy. I’ll find some shoes.’

I slipped into the one-shouldered minidress, rolling down its Grecian ruching until everything was approximately where it was supposed to go.

‘Jenny?’ I liked this one. The careful pleating and folds hid my bagel bloating, but the single shoulder and super-short skirt made it look appropriately festive. As in, just the right side of slutty.

Jenny looked up from her magazine, gave me the once-over and then gave it a thumbs-up. ‘Shout me when he’s got the shoes,’ she commented.

Yay. She liked it! I hadn’t picked it and couldn’t really take any credit, but she liked it! Ben reappeared clutching a pair of silver strappy sandals and a pair of chunky suede black and silver peep-toe booties.

‘What does your heart say?’ he asked. Melodramatic? A bit. But my heart did have an answer. I’d seen a pair of strappy silver sandals like that once before and they’d been wrapped around my ex-boyfriend’s waist. I had no interest in taking them out for a spin.

‘Pass me the boots.’ I held out a hand and ignored the bile in my throat. Stupid Gina and their stupid core collection. I’d thought how versatile they were at the time. Wonderful taste in shoes, terrible taste in men, that girl.

‘Miu Miu,’ Ben said as I slipped my foot into the gorgeous stacked suede boot, my hot pink pedicure peeping out at the front. The silver sparkle lifted the look, and the weight of the boot against the lightness of the dress created the perfect clash. I knew I’d done well. ‘Gorgeous. There’s just a couple more things I want you to try.’

‘Wow, Angie.’ Jenny actually put her magazine down. ‘You look so good. When I’ve done your make-up …’

It was a compliment. In a way.

‘Wait until Alex sees you in that shit.’

‘Actually, can you check my phone and see if he’s called?’ I reluctantly slipped off the booties and unzipped the dress. Come hell or high water, it was coming home with me. ‘I said I’d check in.’

‘Boyfriend think you’ve run off to the Little Chapel without him?’ Ben asked, passing me a sliver of spangly black fabric. I looked at it, puzzled as to how I was supposed to put it on, for two seconds too long before he grabbed it back and signalled for me to hold my hands above my head.

‘Probably more worried that Jenny’s got me working in a strip club.’ I blew a strand of hair out of my face while this grown man dressed me. ‘Or that I’m locked in the boot of someone’s car in the desert somewhere.’

‘She means trunk,’ Jenny translated automatically. ‘Is that Dolce?’

This time the magazine was on the couch. The champagne was on the counter. We had her full attention.

‘Yes. And I want you in these boots.’

He handed me two giant slivers of buttery soft black leather.

‘Are they Zanotti?’

Jenny was giving it the full meerkat on the sofa.

I did as I was told.

‘Holy shit.’ Jenny stood up.

‘And we’re done.’ Ben took two steps back.

I stared into the mirror and gulped. The dress was a second skin of spider-like black lace, scattered with bright silver stars. Long sleeves and a high neckline were counteracted by a delicate hemline that barely covered my knickers, its brevity emphasized by the fact that the high-heeled boots Ben was zipping up stopped only three inches short of meeting it. The effect was arresting. In that it would get me arrested.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jenny asked, reading my face. ‘Too tight? Too short?’

‘A little from column A, a little from column B,’ I stuttered. ‘I can’t go out looking like this. Besides, I can’t afford it.’

‘There’s no way I’m letting you leave this room without this outfit.’ Ben folded his arms and went to stand next to Jenny. They formed a wall of agreement. ‘And all this stuff is on loan. Don’t sweat it.’

‘Don’t sweat it or don’t sweat in it?’ I frowned and looked back in the mirror. It was amazing and shockingly flattering. I just wouldn’t be able to bend down. Or sit down. Or stand up for too long.

‘So we’re doing this and we’re doing the Alice and Olivia with the Miu Miu?’ Ben asked Jenny. Clearly my opinion was no longer required. ‘And I have something for you too.’

With an almost shy smile, he handed Jenny a garment bag. She took it, looking a little shocked, and unzipped it carefully, facing away from me.

‘What is it?’ I whined like a little girl. Damn these heels, I couldn’t move fast enough to get a good look.

‘Ben …’ Jenny turned back towards us, her hand pressed against her heart. ‘This is insane.’

‘It never looked better on anyone than it did on you,’ he told the floor. ‘Take it, OK?’

‘Thank you.’ She reached out and touched his hand.

I stood in the middle of the two of them, the world’s most overdressed gooseberry.

‘I’ll leave you two ladies alone …’ Ben coughed and backed out of the room, leaving Jenny standing holding the garment bag, me holding my breath.

‘Oh my God. Drama?’

I turned to see Jenny still clutching the dress, her face completely impassive.

‘You OK?’ I asked. ‘Is there actually a horse’s head in there? Is it the prom dress from Carrie?’

‘It’s just something I wore one time, is all,’ she said, throwing it down on the sofa as though it were nothing at all. ‘The dude is an asshat.’

‘Asshat,’ I agreed merrily. ‘Going around giving girls free clothes. Who does he think he is? Can I see it?’

‘Whatever.’ She could pretend all she liked, but I knew there was something amazing in that bag. And if it was big enough, I was borrowing it.

‘Holy Mary, Mother of God.’

There were feathers. There were ruffles. There was a black leather obi belt. It was strapless, it fell to the floor and it was gold. And there was no way on Earth it would fit me.

‘Did you suddenly become religious?’ Jenny asked. ‘Or is it just Christmas that’s bringing on the blasphemy?’

‘Christmas,’ I nodded, unable to take my eyes off the dress. ‘I am a devout believer in Christmas. And Easter, because, you know, the bunny. Jenny, this is amazing.’

‘Lhuillier,’ she replied, a little sadness in her voice. ‘It’s the most beautiful thing I ever wore.’

‘And when did we wear this? I don’t remember seeing you at the Oscars.’

‘Just on a date.’ She pulled the dress gently out of my hands. ‘The dress is beautiful, Ben is an asshat. That’s really all there is to it.’

‘I would be prepared to accept quite a lot of asshattery for a dress like that.’

‘Women like you are holding us back as a gender,’ Jenny replied sternly. ‘You are the glass ceiling.’

‘Yep,’ I said, eyes still full of feathers. ‘I’d give back the vote for that dress. Chain me to the sink, fill me full of babies, just let me wear that bad boy while I’m cooking you dinner.’

‘You’re hilarious.’ Jenny zipped the garment bag with a sharp pull, breaking the gown’s spell, and passed me my phone. ‘You have a text from your boyfriend-slash-proponent of the patriarchal agenda.’

My boyfriend! I had one of those! The dress had almost made me forget. The Lhuillier was the kind of dress that could make you forget everything. I clicked on the text; he was spoken for until the evening, when they were going to some club in their hotel and could I meet him there? Hmm. I was fairly certain I wasn’t going to get away as lightly as I had the night before, but surely there was some way to get a quick fix without having to expose Jenny to the Jeffstravaganza.

I clicked over to my email quickly while Jenny was distracted with her own text messages. At least she was smiling now. I assumed Sigge and asked no questions. Sex texts were only ever meant to be shared between two people, contrary to what Jenny thought. The last time we’d been out for drinks I’d been shown a picture text that really put the cock into cocktail (the tail as well, really, if we’re being fair), and I hadn’t been able to look at Sigge the same way ever since.

My inbox was heaving, in no small part due to the fact I had subscribed to every single Christmas-related newsletter in the United States of America. I knew where every market, Santa’s grotto, pop-up ice rink and seasonal peppermint hot chocolate could be found within a fifteen-mile radius of wherever I was. But in between the e-shots from DailyCandy, Time Out New York and UrbanDaddy, there were assorted Facebook messages, e-cards (evil, lazy people) and then several more emails from editors. Every single one of them was a rejection. And then the real kicker.

Hi Angela,

Hope you’re feeling festive, ho-ho-ho!

Anyway, we need to talk about your column. Having a rejig of the mag in the new year and we’re thinking it’s time to go in another direction. Give me a call when you get this. Maybe I can help you find something else?

Sara x

Not only had every single one of my ideas been rejected by every single editor I’d written to, my UK column had been killed. That was it. I was buggered. I would give her ho-ho-fucking-ho. On the upside, it turned out I could sit down in the crazy short dress, a fact I became aware of when I realized I was cross-legged on the floor and no longer standing up.

‘Dollface, what’s wrong?’ Jenny took the phone I held out to her and scrolled quickly. ‘So? It’s just a few. You’ve got loads of these out there, right?’

‘That’s all of them,’ I said, feeling simultaneously very sick and completely empty. ‘That’s every single one.’

‘So we go to plan B.’ Jenny crouched down beside me. ‘Don’t do this, Angela. Don’t. We will figure this out.’

‘Yeah.’ I sniffed hard, looking Jenny in her fiercely determined eyes. ‘We will. I know.’

‘We will. Now, dress off, jeans on and, man alive, we deserve a drink.’

I did not point out that it was only two in the afternoon and she’d already had three glasses of champagne. Didn’t seem worth it. Instead, I yanked off the dress, kicked out of the boots and got my clothes on in record time.

‘So –’ I peered through my jumper – ‘what exactly were you drinking last night?’

‘Jagerbombs?’ Jenny winced. ‘Tequila? Whiskey? All of the above?’

‘Sounds perfect,’ I said. ‘Make mine a double.’

‘It’s my own fault,’ I slurred into my cocktail. ‘I should have thought about this earlier. I should have thought about this before.’

‘Noooo.’ Jenny rubbed my hair vigorously. ‘No, because, like, when things are going good, you know, you, like, don’t think about, you know, bad stuff. You know?’

‘I totally know.’ I held my glass up for an enthusiastic toast. ‘And things were going good. Things were awesome. Things were the bestest ever things. And now it’s all gone to shit.’

‘Ever ever,’ Jenny agreed.

‘With work and with boys and with you and just with me and everything.’ I sipped my martini and tried not to slurp. It was delicious. Even more delicious than the first three. ‘And now it’s all shit. It’s just shit.’

‘It is not!’ Jenny signalled for the bartender to refill our glasses. He nodded and passed two fresh drinks across the bar. What a pro. We’d been propping up the bar in the Bellagio for some time, and while I wasn’t feeling any better about my situation, I was finding it harder to remember precisely what that situation was, so that was a plus.

‘Things are awesome, Angie, they are. You’ve got Alex. You’ve got me. We haven’t gone to shit.’

‘Well, even if I have to leave, you’ve still got Sadie,’ I sniffed, missing my mouth with an olive. Probably best.

‘Whaa?’ Jenny slapped my shoulder. ‘Don’t be a dumbass.’

The bartender smiled.

‘It’s true. You’ve got Sadie, and let’s face it, she’s going to be a lot more fun than me. When was the last time I did a jagerbomb? I don’t even know what a jagerbomb is. And she’s, you know, younger. And prettier. And cooler. And blah blah blah.’

‘Blah blah yourself, dumbass.’ She slammed her empty glass down on the bar. ‘You’re jealous of Sadie?’

‘I’m jealous of everyone,’ I wailed. It was all coming out now. ‘I’m jealous of Sadie because she has you. I’m jealous of you because you have an amazing job and an amazing boyfriend. I’m jealous of Erin because she’s having a baby. I’m jealous of Louisa because she’s having a baby and I’m not there. Everyone’s life is moving on except mine. All I have is a martini.’ I looked up at the bartender and tried to give him my best smile. ‘And it is an excellent martini, sir. Just, very good.’

‘Aw, Angie, that’s such bull.’ Jenny shoved her hand in between my glass and my face, leaving me with a mouthful of cocktail ring. ‘You’re just freaking out because of this visa shit, and we’re gonna make that OK. Your life is totally moving forward.’

‘How? How is it moving forward?’

‘You’re living with your boyfriend, you know what you want out of life, and you’re trying to get it. That’s moving forward.’

‘I’m living with my boyfriend, I don’t have a job, I’m writing a blog no one is reading and I don’t know what country I’m going to be living in this time next month. I’ve literally gone back in time eighteen months.’

‘Except now your boyfriend is awesome and not a cheating asshole,’ Jenny rallied. ‘And you’ve achieved so much. We just have to work out how to put that experience into practice. And we will. Just, dude, not today.’

‘I know.’ I leaned over the bar and rested my head on my arms. ‘I know. And I’m not really jealous, honest. I’m just feeling a bit lost. I’m really happy for you.’

Jenny pinched at the latex covering on her legs and gave me a half-smile. ‘Thanks, doll.’

‘And you deserve it. You work so hard. And after the whole Jeff thing –’ I held her hands and pulled a face – ‘you deserve to be happy. So happy. So, so, so happy.’

‘Thanks, doll.’

‘Sigge’s so awesome. And yes, I know I thought he was gay when you met him, but yeah. He’s not.’