‘Well, just don’t do what I did and run away to another country.’
All at once, the snuffling stopped and she jolted upright in my arms. Her wet, snotty face was overcome with a lightning strike of an idea I already knew I wasn’t going to like.
‘That’s it,’ she announced, arms out wide. ‘You are so smart!’
‘Thank you?’ I said carefully. I always found that kind of compliment was nice to hear but came at a price. ‘What exactly did I do?’
‘I’m coming to London with you,’ she announced, downgrading my level of intelligence with every syllable. ‘It’s perfect. I need to get away from the city, you need protecting from your mom, your mom loves me, therefore I’m coming to London. With you.’
Now, it was true that my mum loved Jenny. When we were living together, the two of them spent a lot longer talking on the phone than I did. For some reason, suburban mother-of-one, Su Doku-lover, Marks & Spencer acolyte and lifelong subscriber to Take a Break magazine had found a soul mate in the Vogue-reading, Agent Provocateur-wearing, Angry Birds-loving Jenny Lopez. She was the daughter she had always intended to have. While my mum and I got along just fine, she had always been a bit disappointed that I wasn’t more of a girly girl. I’d never wanted ballet lessons, to play the flute or play with prams, pushchairs and baby dolls, even though they were forced upon me. I’d wanted to ride horses and learn guitar and read The Secret Garden until my eyes were sore, not sit and drink tea nicely with the Avon lady. She’d always adored ladylike Louisa and hoped she might influence my ways, and I genuinely believed the main reason she hadn’t flown directly to New York and marched me straight onto a plane two years ago was because she was hoping some of Jenny’s feminine super-powers would rub off on me. And they kind of had. I could walk in heels and not fall down (most of the time), I knew how to apply eyeliner without looking like a tranny or a member of Kiss, I could tell anyone why a Chanel 2.55 handbag was called a 2.55, and I had an uncontrollable, burning desire to possess one. I was quite the success as a woman these days, and a lot of that was due to Ms Jenny Lopez.
So it all worked aside from the fact Jenny’s plan had one major flaw.
Alex.
Jenny and Alex were the two most important people in my life − my New York family − and while they were friendly when their paths happened to cross, I had learned my lesson and tried to keep them away from too much one-on-one time or unnecessarily intense situations. I loved them both and they both loved me, but each other? Love might be slightly too strong a word. It was one of the few things that fell outside our overshare pact, but I knew for a fact that Alex thought Jenny was a drama queen who brought most of her misery on herself. And Jenny, as my best friend and ultimate defender, kept Alex on a short leash just in case he ever, ever did anything to hurt me. It was a time-honoured relationship between boyfriend and bestie and we handled it just fine. But bringing Jenny along on a trip that already promised to be more painful than a girl’s first bikini wax?
‘It’ll be awesome.’ Jenny wiped her tears away on the back of her arm and offered me the beginnings of a smile. ‘You can show me London, I can meet Louisa, I’ll totally take all the pressure off the parentals so you and Alex can take time to hang out. It’ll be so great.’
Not for the first time, I was completely lost for words. And not for the first time, I was completely unable to disguise the fear on my face.
‘Angie, honey.’ Just like that, Jenny was back. Her face shone and her eyes sparkled with conviction. ‘I won’t be any hassle and it’s what I need. An escape, you know? Space. Time. Just a few days to breathe and empty my head.’
I sighed and nodded. How was I supposed to say no when she’d pulled me out of exactly the same situation two years ago? Besides, it was impossible to look at those big brown Lopez eyes and not give in. I often worried about what would happen if Jenny ever decided to use her powers for evil.
‘Oh my God, I love you.’ She bounced up onto her knees and pushed me backwards, showering me in kisses. ‘I love you so much.’
‘Am I interrupting?’ Tyler’s voice rang out across the room, causing one sick feeling in my stomach to make way for another. I looked over to see him leaning against the door frame, a towel wrapped low around his hips. Given that my sexual CV was incredibly brief, I’d never been in a situation where I’d been in the same room as someone I’d boffed and broken up with and so I had no idea how I was supposed to be feeling. All I knew for sure was that I really, really wanted him to be gone. Preferably with a black eye. And a ruptured scrotum.
‘So, is this a private party or can anyone get in on this?’ he asked with a raised eyebrow, arms folded across his ridiculously hot body. Arsehole. How dare he stand there with his abs out. ‘This is weird, right?’
‘It’s weird,’ Jenny and I replied in unison.
‘So would it be more weird or less weird −’ he started to move towards the bed − ‘if the three of us, you know …’
I had no words. Literally no words. But Jenny, luckily for me, was full of them.
‘I don’t know.’ She stood up and pulled Tyler’s trousers out of the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. ‘But I do know you’re not putting these on right now.’
Jenny smiled. Tyler grinned. I grimaced. And then Jenny walked over to the window, opened it up and threw his trousers out into the street. ‘Hey, Angie, toss me his shorts.’
It was hard to say who was more shocked. Tyler’s jaw dropped at exactly the same moment as his towel, but now his nudity wasn’t nearly as entertaining as the fact that Jenny was very busy throwing all of his clothes out onto 39th Street. You had to laugh. So I did. Long and loud and hard.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he demanded when he finally found his voice. ‘Are you fucking crazy?’
Jenny dangled a very expensive leather loafer over the sill and cocked her head to one side. ‘Wanna find out?’
Out went the shoe.
‘Jesus.’ Tyler looked at me, grabbed his towel and shook his head. ‘You’re both insane.’ And with that, he ran out of the bedroom and out of the apartment.
By the time he made it onto the street, a homeless guy had already claimed his shirt and shoes, but fortunately, given the New York City decency laws, his underwear and jeans were still a crumpled mess on the sidewalk. Jenny and I leaned out of the window and waved down at him as he shuffled into them, flashing his backside to passers-by. Elbows on the windowsill, Jenny and I turned to look at each other.
‘So − London then?’ I smiled.
‘London,’ she replied with a grin.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘I’m here, I’m here.’ I threw myself through the glass doors of the Gloss office the following Friday, late as usual. For some reason, I’d decided not to waste money I didn’t have on a taxi and had taken the subway, despite the fact that I had two suitcases and the world’s biggest carry-on bag. Well, maybe not the world’s biggest, but definitely not one of the smallest. I could easily steal Beyoncé’s baby and carry it off in this bag. Which I totally would.
‘Did I miss anything?’
‘Just the coffee run.’ Mr Spencer was sitting in my leather chair, a small smile on his face. It had been so long since I’d seen that smile that I actually shrieked in surprise. Bollocks. Yes, I was late into the office, but I wasn’t late for the meeting. Why was he early? Who was ever early? Arses. ‘I hear you’re off to London, Ms Clark?’
‘I am,’ I nodded, attempting to regain my composure. And failing.