He took my hand and covered it in both of his, leaving something small and hot in my palm. It was a key.
‘You borrowed the spare key?’ I asked, still disoriented by the flowers; the sweet smell of the roses was almost unbearable. I put the key down on the side and went to open a window. ‘Is that how you let the flower man in?’
‘I didn’t let anyone in,’ Alex said. ‘I was waiting across the road in the diner for you. Like I said, I didn’t do this. Starting to wish I had: sure as hell would make this easier.’
‘Make what easier?’ I asked, hunting for a card. There had to be something in one of the baskets. Eventually I spotted a big white envelope peeking out of one of the cardboard bags packed with freesias and baby’s breath. ‘Oh my God, it’s from James.’
‘Great,’ Alex said flatly.
‘“Dear Angela,”’ I read aloud. ‘“Hope this isn’t too OTT. I can’t help it, I’m gay you know. Jenny lent me her key, I’ve asked the courier to leave it in the bedroom. She says you can bring it back when you come back out to visit us VERY SOON. Love James x.” Isn’t that so lovely?’
‘Lovely,’ Alex repeated, still standing in the doorway, framed by two giant three-foot vases packed with towering lilies.
‘Just let me find the key and I’ll make a drink,’ I called from the bedroom. ‘Did you want to do something? Sorry, I haven’t even said hello, this is just mad, sorry. Oh my God.’
‘What is it now?’
‘I don’t know but it’s from Marc Jacobs,’ I squealed, ripping open a second white envelope that rested on top of a large, stiff white carrier bag. Jenny’s key fell on to my floor, vanishing under my bed. ‘From my friend Marc. He says look after this one.’
Inside the carrier bag was a huge white dust bag and inside the dust bag was an enormous royal blue leather satchel. I dropped my old beloved bag on the floor and slipped the slender strap over my head, letting the bag rest against my hip. I span to show Alex, beaming from ear to ear. He gave me a tight smile and bent down to pick up my spare key.
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ I stretched ‘beautiful’ out for about a minute before turning back to my mirror to admire the bag. ‘Isn’t James so amazing?’
‘Yeah,’ Alex said, one hand behind his head, ruffling his short choppy hair while his long fringe flopped down over a distinctly unhappy expression. ‘Where should I put this key?’
‘Well actually, I was thinking.’ I felt my face flush and started to stumble over my words. ‘I was thinking that you should maybe hang on to it.’
‘You were?’ he asked, half a smile starting on his face.
‘I was going to get one cut for you,’ I nodded, excited that he wasn’t freaking out. ‘After last night’s fuse-box fiasco, I think it would make sense. I mean, Erin has one but she’s all the way up town and it makes more sense for you to have it, doesn’t it?’
‘Oh. OK. You want me to hold on to this for emergencies.’ His smile dissolved into a thin line.
‘And you know, to let yourself in and stuff. So you don’t have to wait for me in the diner,’ I added quickly, squeezing the skinny strap of my bag. Why did I feel like I’d messed up? ‘I want you to have a key to my apartment.’
‘Thanks.’
I looked back at the tiny silver key sparkling amongst all the flowers on the kitchen top.
‘Alex, if that key you gave me wasn’t my spare, then what was it?’
He sighed, his shoulders dropping. ‘It’s the key to my place.’
‘You were going to give me a spare key?’ I asked. If he was giving me his spare key, why was he being so funny about me giving him mine? ‘How weird is that?’
‘It wasn’t supposed to be a spare,’ he said, sitting down on the edge of my bed. ‘I know you don’t really want to get another roommate and I guess Jenny isn’t coming back anytime soon, so I was kind of going to suggest that you move in with me.’
I sat down next to him on the bed.
‘All the shit we went through last week, Angela, it’s all because we’re still playing stupid games. I know we got it all wrong the first time, that it was all too much too soon, but I know that I love you so what are we waiting for? As soon as you left for the airport, I missed you. As soon as I saw those pictures online I freaked out, I was so jealous. I hated the thought of losing you so much that I got on a plane to come and see you.’
‘Right.’ I said.
‘The more I think about it, the thought of not having to go further than the next room to see you just makes me really, really happy,’ he held a hand above my knee then dropped in on the bed. ‘So if I’ve been a little weird this week, it’s because I’ve had a lot on my mind.’
‘Right.’
I ran my finger along the gold zipper on my bag. Lovely bit of craftsmanship.
‘I’m not asking you to pack a suitcase and come with me right away,’ Alex said. ‘But I’ll leave you the key, OK?’
‘OK,’ I said, pulling the zip backwards and forwards.
‘I know I can’t compete with your Hollywood boyfriend but I picked this up on the way.’ He lifted up the flap on his battered satchel and pulled out a single sunflower and placed it on my lap. ‘I guess I thought it would be romantic or something. Angela, are you going to say anything?’
I tugged the zip all the way closed and carefully pulled the strap over my head, placing the bag back inside its dust bag. I had no idea where the dust bag was for my first bag. Really, I shouldn’t be allowed to have nice things if I couldn’t look after them. Even if I really wanted them.
‘I don’t really know what to say,’ I offered, still not quite able to look at him and gripping the end of the bed with both hands. ‘Not because I don’t want to live with you. I’m just a bit surprised.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ he breathed out, placing one of his hands over mine. It was warm and covered my hand completely. ‘So, you’ll think about it?’
‘I will,’ I promised, finally breaking my staring contest with the carpet and stealing a sneak peek at his deep green eyes. They were big and wide and hopeful. ‘I will. Everything you said, it was right. I will think about it.’
‘Then that‘s enough for now,’ he said, putting the sunflower in my hand. ‘I have to go—I have terrible pollen allergies and this place is worse than a florist’s.’
‘You big girl,’ I said, following him out to the hallway. ‘Do you want to do something later?’
‘I have practice, could go on,’ he said, wrinkling up his nose at the roses on the counter. ‘See you tomorrow?’
I nodded, kissed him once more and then watched him jog down the stairs. Closing the door, I leaned back against it, his sunflower still in my hand. Putting it in the only vase I had in the house, I set it on the windowsill, clearing James’s flowers to give it some space.
I dropped to the sofa and yawned. It was reassuring to be back on New York time, blogging from my own living room; comforting, even. For as long as it was my own living room. God, this moving in thing was going to take some thinking about. Maybe living with Alex could be amazing. Waking up with him, going to sleep with him, not going to sleep with him…but I couldn’t make a decision based on that, could I? There was that racing heartbeat again.
‘Blog first, life-changing decisions later,’ I said to my laptop, logging on.
The Adventures of Angela: I want to be a part of it…
So it looks like my interview with James Jacobs was a hit! I hope you all enjoyed it; you have no idea what I went through to get it for you. Well, actually, I imagine you have a fairly clear idea. As much as I’d love to think otherwise, I’m guessing you check in on blogs other than mine from time to time…In hindsight, it was all worth it. And that only has a tiny bit to do with the handbag that was just delivered. Thanks James.
While I have you here, I’d just like to clear something up once and for all. I have never actually made anyone gay (as far as I know?), I just sort of brought it to the world’s attention, so anyone worried about my magical abi
lity to ‘turn’ hot boys can sleep easy in their beds tonight.
Back to the blog. Have you noticed how pretty it is outside today? I’m not sure if it’s because spring is around the corner or just because I didn’t lose a toe to frostbite today but I’m so happy to be back in New York. Don’t get me wrong, Hollywood was fun and it has successfully stolen away my best friend, so I know I’ll be going back soon, but is there anywhere on earth that compares to New York City? I don’t have to worry about the paparazzi because, let’s face it, I’m just not New York news. I don’t have to worry about getting in the car just to go out and buy milk because the deli on the corner is open twenty-four hours a day. And I don’t have to worry about the constant reapplication of sunscreen twelve months of the year; although I can’t stress enough that we should all be wearing a moisturizer with sunscreen and, to be honest, waking up to sunshine was absolutely not the worst part of last week. Especially when you’ve been rolling yourself up in two hoodies, a dressing gown and four pairs of socks just to get from the bed to the bathroom every morning from December until March. Anyway, looks like I’m not going anywhere soon. At least not anywhere too far away…
I mailed the blog to Mary and curled up on the sofa. The flat really did stink. Thousands of dollars’ worth of flowers might sound like a great idea but in reality it was like living on the perfume counter in Bloomingdale’s. Too much. Alex’s apartment always smelled the same. Strong coffee in the kitchen, his fresh, soapy shower gel in the bathroom and, if he had the window open, a soft sweetness in the bedroom from the nearby sugar factory.
I got up and wrestled with the window to let in some air but it wouldn’t budge. Jenny had always been the only one who’d been able to get it open. Sighing, I gave up and tried the kitchen window. Alex’s sunflower sat in the middle of all the other ornate arrangements. Maybe I wasn’t designed to live alone, but was that a good enough reason to move in with someone? Where was Jenny when I bloody needed her. I knew she’d say I should just call her but it was early in LA and she had taken to sleeping in as late as possible since she‘d stopped working shifts. Before I could turn to the only people I knew would be able to give me good advice, the cast of Friends, I heard something in the hallway.
Popping up over the back of the sofa, like a meerkat, I watched the front door swing open to reveal Alex, holding a box of Cheerios.
‘I found these downstairs, you must have dropped them,’ he said sheepishly.
‘Didn’t you leave like, half an hour ago?’ I asked, climbing over the back of the sofa and taking the cereal.
‘Yeah, I’ve kind of been sitting on your front step,’ he admitted, slipping his key back in his hip pocket. ‘I was thinking.’
‘Thinking?’ That was never good.
‘I know you need time to think about moving in,’ he said, taking my hands in his. ‘So I wanted to give you something to think about.’
He pulled me into a gentle kiss that grew stronger and stronger until I was short of breath and pressed backwards up against the fridge door.
‘Well that doesn’t really help,’ I said, pushing him away. ‘How am I supposed to think clearly now?’
‘You’re not,’ he grinned, moving back in for another kiss. ‘You’re supposed to move in with me.’
‘You want to come over later?’ I asked as Alex pushed my hair back and held my face in both of his hands. ‘After practice?’
‘It’ll be late,’ he whispered in between kisses.
‘You have a key,’ I breathed hard. ‘Let yourself in.’
‘Sounds good.’ He kissed me once more and then slipped back out the door. ‘See you later.’
I locked the door and hugged myself tightly. Oh, this was not going to be an easy decision. But then, where was the fun in easy decisions?
Acknowledgements
So many thank yous to say—Lynne, Claire, Victoria and everyone at HC. When you come from inside the beast, you REALLY appreciate how much hard graft goes into making a book work. A million times, thank you.
Yo, Jimmy, LA wouldn’t have been the same without you and I couldn’t have ‘researched’ Hollywood half as well without Caterina (my favourite sassy blonde) Philipa and Squeaker. Thank you to Jane, Georgia, Keren, Catherine, Alison, Sam, Rich, Jimmy (again), Pete, Jenny, Ryan, Eric and Chris for abiding by the dress code, to James for going one better and coordinating completely and to Della, Lisa and Miss Aimee for distracting me to the point of almost not getting this done. I miss far too long phone calls, cocktails and boy-bashing with you.
Other than that, thank you to everyone that’s emailed, Facebooked, tweeted and twittered at me about I Heart New York, you’re all brilliant. Unless you said it was crap. I’m just going to ignore you. Mwah.
About the Author
Lindsey Kelk is a writer and children’s book editor. When she isn’t writing, reading, listening to music or watching more TV than is healthy, Lindsey likes to wear shoes, shop for shoes and judge the shoes of others. She loves living in New York but misses Sherbert Fountains, London and drinking Gin & Elderflower cocktails with her friends. Not necessarily in that order. Her first novel I Heart New York was published in 2009 and her third novel, I Heart Paris will be published in July 2010.
To find out more about the I Heart series, sign up for the newsletter, read exclusive extracts and much much more visit www.ihearthollywood.co.uk
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I Heart New York
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I Heart Paris
Copyright
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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FIRST EDITION
Copyright © Lindsey Kelk 2010
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EPub Edition © NOVEMBER 2009 ISBN: 978-0-007-35316-3
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Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Capter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Other Books By
Copyright
About the Publisher
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Capter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Other Books By
Copyright
About the Publisher
Lindsey Kelk, I Heart Hollywood