Chapter Sixteen
‘Knock-knock, the fashion fairy is here,’ Jenny declared, sailing into my room without actually knocking. ‘Oh jeez, I’m supposed to be pissed with you, Brooklyn, could you at least put your pants on?’
I opened my eyes to see Alex sitting at my laptop in his boxers. Bless.
‘OK Lopez,’ he said, grabbing his jeans from the floor. ‘But she’s in my T-shirt so I’m gonna have to take whatever you’ve got in that bag.’
‘Ooh, is that for me?’ I was suddenly very awake. Jenny was holding a very large, stiff bag from—oh, be still my beating heart—Marc Jacobs.
‘It is unless anyone asks, then it’s for Tessa DiArmo.’ With a flourish, Jenny produced a stunning vibrant purple silk shirtdress. ‘What do you think?’
‘Jenny, it’s beautiful,’ I breathed, bounding across the room to get closer to the pretty, pretty dress. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so amazing.’
‘Uh, boyfriend in the room?’ Alex coughed from the table.
‘I know, I’m amazing and, besides, I wanted you to look awesome for your last night with the paps.’ Jenny hung the dress on the front of the wardrobe. ‘So shower fast, wear your Louboutins and get your ass upstairs to the bar. You’ve got thirty minutes.’
Forty minutes later, I was wearing the most expensive outfit that had ever graced my body, the highest heels I’d ever attempted to walk in, and mismatched underwear, as usual. Hopefully Jenny wouldn’t check; she would be so disappointed. I also hoped she’d let me off with the extra ten minutes I’d spent on my smoky-gold eye make-up since it matched the ensemble.
‘You look amazing,’ Alex said, adjusting the delicate gold belt around my waist. ‘Like you forgot your pants and you don’t even care.’
‘I’m wearing my pants,’ I said, confused. Was it too short? Could you see my arse?
‘Language barrier.’ He tugged lightly at the hemline. ‘I meant trousers.’
‘Fashion barrier,’ I said, slapping his fingers. ‘It’s supposed to look like this. See you downstairs later.’ A quick kiss and I was gone. The dress needed to be out where everyone could see it.
Stepping onto the balcony felt different, knowing that it would be the last time I’d see the view, judge the lingering sunbathers. And knowing that I was wearing a fifteen-hundred-dollar dress instead of Jenny’s bikini and a post-wax rash felt pretty good too. Jenny was already at one of the tables, gazing out at the hills and sipping on what looked like her second mojito. For God’s sake, I was only ten minutes late.
‘You started without me?’ I pulled out a chair and sat down very carefully. As much as I loved the dress, I knew it was going to have to go back tomorrow. Sob.
‘You’re late,’ Jenny passed a full glass over to me. ‘But you’re hot. Damn, I’m good.’
‘You are. You’re looking pretty good yourself,’ I agreed, leaning across the table so as not to spill even a drop of condensation on my dress and getting an eyeful of Jenny’s amazing cleavage in her deeply slashed scarlet dress. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been styling for years. All that spending my money has been totally worth it. Are you going to try and do it when we get back? Because the free clothes would be amazing.’
‘Yeah,’ she looked at her nails. ‘Drink your drink.’
‘Oh no.’ I tried not to look at my nails. Damn it, chipped to buggery. I was destined never to be completely put together. ‘I’m not getting wasted tonight. I very much enjoyed waking up without throwing up this morning and I’m hoping to give it another try tomorrow. Although I’m probably going to need a drink over dinner, Blake is going to be a right pain in the arse, I can just tell.’
‘You don’t need to be that intuitive to work that out. Blake is an ass, period,’ she slurped on her straw noisily.
‘Jenny.’ For the first time in what I realized was a good couple of days, I looked at my best friend. She did not look happy. ‘Jenny, what’s wrong?’
She smiled up at me. ‘Actually nothing. For the first time in for ever, nothing is wrong.’
‘Explain please?’
‘Aw, Angie.’ Jenny pushed her masses of chocolate curls back off her face then placed her hands flat on the table. ‘I’m just gonna say this. I’m staying in LA.’
‘Huh?’
She unwrapped my icy hands from around my mojito and held them in hers. ‘I’m staying. With Daphne. I’m not coming back to New York.’
‘You’re staying?’ I asked, squeezing her hands lightly. ‘For how long?’
‘I don’t know,’ she squeezed back. ‘A while?’
‘I don’t understand, you’re not coming back with me?’
‘No.’
‘You’re not coming back with me tomorrow?’
‘Nope.’
‘Or next week?’
Jenny sighed and then smiled. ‘I need some time out from New York, from work. I need some time to breathe.’
‘But you can’t just decide you’re not coming back,’ I said, panicking. ‘You can’t just say “oh I’m staying in LA for a bit”. People don’t.’
‘You did,’ Jenny reminded me, completely unnecessarily. ‘And it worked out OK.’
‘Only because I had you.’ I hated it when people used facts to prove their point. They were so difficult to argue against. ‘You can’t just go making rash decisions: that’s my job. The balance of our friendship will be completely thrown off and then, God, I don’t know, the universe might end or something. Talk to me. What’s really wrong?’
‘You so already know.’
‘Jeff?’
‘Jeff.’
I gave her my very best Oprah look. ‘You’re going to uproot your entire life because of a boy?’
‘Like you did?’
‘Will you stop using me as an example?’ I frowned. ‘I am not a good example.’
‘Honey, you’re the best example.’ Jenny squeezed my hands back, harder. ‘You’re the only example. I told you once that you were my personal hero and it’s true. I haven’t been myself for a really long time, you know that. You’re not going to sit there and pretend you haven’t noticed?’
‘I might be.’
‘And I need to get away. I have loved living with you and if I thought I could get you to move to LA, I would—but I have to do this, Angie, I have to.’
I really didn’t want to hear this. The idea of going back to New York without Jenny was terrifying. ‘And your job?’
‘They’ve actually been amazing,’ she smiled. ‘They’re gonna let me work out my notice here while I set up the styling thing. And yeah, I know it’s a flakey thing to do, but it’s not forever. If it doesn’t work out, I can go back to hotel stuff.’
‘And you’re going to live with Daphne?’ I asked, making a mental note never to talk to Jenny’s manager at The Union ever again.
‘Yeah.’ She released her grip on my hands and went back to her mojito. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it. You’ve just had so much going on, I didn’t want you to be stressing over me.’
‘Oh, Jenny.’ I felt like crap. Even crappier than when I’d woken up next to Joe, if that were possible. ‘I wish you’d said something. Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad when we were at home?’
‘I guess I didn’t know it was this bad until I got here.’ She looked out off the roof terrace. ‘Yeah, I was down about Jeff, work was pretty crappy, but I just thought, you know, it was winter, and I don’t mean to sound like a bitch but I was kinda jealous of you and Alex getting back together. I figured I’d get over it after a while.’
‘And now you don’t?’
‘Now I feel like being here will be better for me for a while.’
I sat quietly for a moment. How could Jenny, my Jenny, think that being here would make her feel better?
‘LA is different for me, Angie,’ she said, reading my mind. Irritating. ‘I know you’ve had a pretty shitty time so far but that’s nothing compared to all the shit I’ve
been through in New York for the last ten years. You know how you felt when you turned up? That’s how I feel here. Like I could do anything, like there are a million new things to try. The only sucky thing is that you won’t be here.’
‘There’s nothing I could say to get you to come home with me?’ I asked, recognizing a losing battle when I saw it. ‘Because I am about a minute away from freaking out.’
‘I’m sorry.’
There was no way I was going to cry. There was more than my eye make-up at stake here. I didn’t know if you could get tears out of a Marc Jacobs.
‘Don’t be sorry. If you need a bit of time away…’ I felt a tiny tear trickle down past my mascara and make a tiny dark purple spot on my knee. Bugger. ‘I just feel like I’ve let you down.’
‘Honestly, Angie, I’ve been killing myself over this but I don’t know what else to do.’ She reached out and pressed away the tear track with a napkin. ‘No tears. I don’t have time to redo your make-up and I hate when you look like shit.’
‘You’re not going to like what’s coming then,’ I bleated as another tear followed the first. And then another and another until I was a blubbering, sobbing mess.
‘Oh for Christ’s sake,’ Jenny groaned, scooting around the table and holding two new napkins under my eyes. ‘Stop crying or I’m gonna throw you over the edge. And press these under your eyes. Don’t rub.’
‘Thank you,’ I sniffed, pathetically. ‘I’m sorry. You have to do what’s best for you, I know, and I want you to. I’m happy for you, I promise. I’m miserable for me. Because you know, it’s all about me.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Jenny scooted up and gave me a hug. I tried to stop crying but all I could think was how much I would miss her hugs, all fluffy hair tickling my nose and coconut and candyfloss perfume. It wasn’t fair.
‘It’ll be worth it when I’m a mega-stylist and we can actually keep these clothes,’ she promised, breaking off the hug.
‘That is true,’ I agreed. ‘So do we have time for one more girlie drink or do we have to—’
‘You, asshole!’
Before I could finish, Jenny was on her feet and tearing over to the bar. It took me a couple of seconds to work out what was happening and before I could even stand up, Jenny was clambering up onto a stool and leaping over the bar, fluffy hair flying, arms windmilling into, oh God, Joe.
‘You absolutely asshole,’ she shouted, battering him backwards into a row of bottles. There weren’t many people loitering around the pool but if she hadn’t had their full attention before half a dozen bottles clattered and smashed on the floor, she had it now.
‘Jenny!’ I yelled, stumbling over as quickly as I could in my high, high heels. She certainly knew how to cap an emotional moment. ‘Jenny, stop it!’
‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ Joe yelled, eventually gathering his wits and folding Jenny’s tiny fists up inside his bigger ones and holding her at arm’s length. ‘Lopez, chill the fuck out.’
‘Don’t you dare tell me to chill out,’ she screeched. ‘How could you?
‘How could I what?’ he barked back, his eyes darting around the bar until they rested on me. And then he smiled. ‘You jealous, Lopez?’
Once I’d resisted the urge to throw up, I let Jenny beat him around the head for a couple more minutes before stepping in.
‘Jenny, stop it, you’ll break a nail,’ I said, pulling her backwards slightly. Men never knew how to deal with aggressive women. Seriously, he just had to look at her heels: any challenge to her balance and she was over.
‘Hey, English, call off your dogs.’ He gave me a smile. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t call, but when I woke up and you’d vamoosed, I figured you’d come find me. When you wanted me.’
He paused to smile. I paused to gag.
‘Where’d you get to anyway? You could have called Lopez from the room if you’d wanted to brag.’
‘Oh, ew, Angie, can I get back to kicking his ass now?’ Jenny bristled behind.
‘Jenny,’ I warned, even though I really did want to let her. How much of an arse was he?
‘The reason I vamoosed was…because I was…well, a bit confused. To be honest, I don’t strictly remember what happened.’
‘Honestly?’ Joe looked a little crestfallen. ‘Wow.’
‘So help me God, Joe,’ Jenny started up again. ‘You want to check your ego before I beat the living shit out of you for taking advantage of my best friend when she was out of it.’
I felt myself blush from head to toe. The few remaining people around the pool murmured to each other. What else did they expect but a bit of drama? They were in Hollywood, after all.
‘Calm down, Lopez.’ Joe folded his arms. ‘I didn’t do anything she didn’t want. Right, English?’
‘I don’t remember,’ I said, not knowing where to look.
‘Well, he can’t have been very good, so I’d say that’s a blessing,’ surmised a voice on the other side of the bar. Looking up, I saw Blake and James standing across from us. James had his arms folded, while Blake went for a slightly less concerned hands in pockets combined with a ‘ha, I knew you were a big slag’ expression.
‘I don’t think anyone was talking to you, man.’ Joe turned to face the boys. I really want to say I wasn’t a little bit excited. But I was.
‘Doesn’t sound like anyone particularly wants to talk to you, either,’ James shrugged. ‘And yet here you are. Maybe you should apologize to Angela and then just go away.’
‘Apologize for what?’ Joe walked around the bar. ‘For sealing the deal when you couldn’t?’
‘Please can we just not?’ My voice sounded awfully high to me. ‘James, Blake, let’s just go to dinner and Joe, I don’t remember what happened the other night but whatever it was, I regret it massively and I don’t want to talk about it ever again.’
‘Whatever.’ He looked me up and down. ‘Just don’t come back begging for more when this fag can’t get the job done later on.’
‘Right, that’s it.’
In one swift move, James was in front of Joe, his arm up in his throat, pushing him back until his head cracked against the bar. It didn’t look comfortable.
‘James,’ Blake shouted a short warning. ‘Think.’
James nodded but didn’t take his eyes off Joe. ‘Apologize to Angela and then, if she’s happy, we’ll pretend this never happened. All of this.’
‘I’m not apologizing,’ he coughed. ‘Nothing even happened—she was too wasted.’
‘I was? Then why were your clothes on the…’ I flushed an even deeper shade of red. ‘Why were you still there in the morning?’
James rammed his forearm into his throat again. ‘You might want to think really carefully before you answer.’
‘I thought you might sober up a little?’ Joe croaked. ‘But you just talked about your ex, threw up and went back to sleep. It was too late to go home, I had a shift in the morning.’
‘So we didn’t?’ I could barely breathe.
‘We didn’t,’ Joe replied.
‘But you let her think you did? You are all class.’ James let him go with one last shove. ‘Well, at least we’ll all sleep better tonight. You’re not even nearly good enough for her.’
‘Jesus Christ, you can fucking have her,’ Joe coughed and righted himself. ‘Bitch.’
Which was about the point when James turned around and knocked Joe flat on his back with one almighty punch.
‘I really feel like I’ve missed something here.’
I span around to see Alex staring at the sorry scene.
‘Alex, it’s uh, it’s…this is Joe,’ I pointed at the bloody, groaning pile on the floor. It was impossible to tell from his expression what he’d seen. Or heard.
‘I waited downstairs but no one showed so I came up to find you.’ He hadn’t moved from the entry of the lift. ‘I didn’t realize you were…rumbling?’
‘All right, Alex,’ James said, stepping over Joe, who was sobbing loudly. ‘We had
a bit of trouble with this one but we really should get off. Reservations are in about half an hour and we have to get all the way up to the Mondrian. Nice shirt.’
Blake and Jenny followed James into the lift, Blake smirking at me, Jenny holding in nervous giggles, while I stepped awkwardly over Joe and took Alex’s hand.
‘What was that all about?’ he asked, accepting my light kiss on the lips.
‘Uh, I don’t really know,’ I said, pulling him along behind me. ‘I told you they had a bit of a fight on Monday. I think it was the same thing.’
‘Right,’ Alex looked back at Joe while I silently prayed for him to keep sobbing long enough for me to get Alex safely into the next lift. ‘Man, how glad am I that James didn’t decide to kick the crap yesterday?’
‘Very?’ I asked, jabbing at the button.
If it was possible, the evening only got worse after we left the hotel. Luckily the manager set us away from the rest of the diners in the restaurant so at least we couldn’t ruin anyone else’s evening with the massive cloud of awkwardness that hung over us. Knowing my talent for saying the worst possible thing at the worse possible time, I ate in silence, keeping my leg pressed up against Alex, occasionally trying to distract him with a gentle squeeze of the thigh. And, if his responsive back-stroking was anything to go by, it was working.
In between ordering masses of food and many, many bottles of wine, James kept the conversation going for everyone, volleying questions at Alex about the band, about New York and, most dangerous of all, about me. Alex handled the grilling well, smiling, nodding, only occasionally kicking me lightly under the table and trying to divert the conversation to Jenny and Blake, but Jenny was too busy doing her bit by drinking as much of the wine that James kept ordering as possible.
By the time her too-little-too-late duck arrived, she was on her second bottle and veering wildly between overexcitedly discussing her new LA life with Blake and choking up over leaving me behind in New York. And when Blake wasn’t getting Jenny all worked up about the celebrities he could introduce her to, he was asking me increasingly awkward questions, preferably while Alex was listening. By the time the waiter came to ask if we wanted dessert, it was a relief to say no, get the bill and call for a cab. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt more tense.