‘And you told me you couldn’t take me seriously while I was wearing it,’ he went on. ‘But I remember thinking that, sooner or later, you’d break up with your boyfriend and realize that we were meant to be together. So I threw away all my baseball caps.’
Jaw on the floor. That was hands-down the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. Even if I didn’t know it at the time.
‘You did?’
‘I say all. Most of them,’ he shrugged. ‘But I never wore one on a shoot with you ever again. I just waited for you to break up with your boyfriend. But when you did, by the time I’d heard about it, you’d got another one.’
‘I was a bit of a fast worker,’ I acknowledged. This was bizarre; I’d had no idea for six years. Talk about playing it cool.
‘Luckily, that one didn’t last,’ Dan kept talking. ‘But I told myself to wait because I didn’t want to be your rebound fling. So I waited, just a bit too long, because as soon as you’d told me you’d broken up with one bloke, you’d met Simon and you practically moved in together right away. Once you bought the house, I thought it was all over, so I started dating Ana to try to distract myself. But then … well, but then. And now we’re here.’
Even if I’d had any grasp over my vocabulary, I wouldn’t have been able to speak for all the butterflies dicking about in my stomach. What was it butterflies actually did, anyway? Besides make me feel as if I was absolutely, positively about to throw up? What was pretty about that?
‘Rachel?’ Dan took hold of my hand. ‘I would feel really good if you could join in with something right now. Anything really.’
‘I went to Canada to see a boy,’ I started, forcing the butterflies under control. Now if I could just hear myself over my own heartbeat. ‘He was my first crush.’
‘I know I said say anything, but I’m not sure I meant this,’ Dan interrupted. ‘Anything else?’
‘Shut up,’ I ordered. His hand was so hot around mine. Hot and big and solid, like him. I had long fingers but, compared to Dan, I had tiny hands. ‘I went to Canada to see this boy and it was lovely. He was lovely. But the whole time I was there, all I could think about was you.’
‘Oh,’ he nudged me with his knees. ‘That sounds better.’
‘And then I did a bungee jump at Niagara Falls and called you to tell you but you didn’t want to listen and then I came home to see you but I thought you’d gone to LA which you bloody hadn’t,’ I added. ‘So I sort of gave up.’
‘Oh yeah.’ He wrapped his other arm around my shoulders, rubbing my back absently. Boom. The butterflies took cover from the uncontrollable lightning bolts. ‘Sorry about that. Hang on, you did a bungee jump?’
‘Kind of. It was on my list.’ I turned my face up to look at his. ‘I came back a day early. When you wouldn’t answer your phone, I flew back a day early to see you but you’d already gone.’
‘I panicked.’ He pushed my hair out of my face, then traced a fingertip along the neckline of my dress, brushing my collarbone. ‘But I’m here.’
‘But you’re leaving,’ I pointed out, wrapping my fingers around his and putting them back on his knees. This was going to be hard. ‘Tonight?’
‘I’ll be back in a week.’ Dan squeezed my hand but I shook it free. ‘Or you could come with me. Go in and pack a bag. Just come.’
‘I can’t.’ My voice wasn’t even really a whisper. ‘I’m going to Australia.’
‘You booked the Sydney job.’ He closed his eyes and retracted his hands. The lightning subsided for just one minute. ‘Of course you did.’
Old Rachel wanted to tell him she’d blow the job off, that she’d just tell them she was sick or stuck in Canada or something and run off to LA with Dan, but I just couldn’t. New Rachel wouldn’t let her.
‘How long are you gone for?’ He fiddled with the hem of his T-shirt before looking up and turning those big brown eyes on me. ‘I’ll be back next Sunday.’
‘I’m staying for a month. At least.’ This time, I was the one who took hold of his hand. ‘Veronica booked me some jobs, I’m going to travel for a bit.’
It was as though I’d just gone to tell Bambi the bad news about his mum.
‘I thought you’d gone, Dan,’ I said. ‘I thought this wasn’t happening. Getting away for a bit was the best idea.’
‘My timing is shit. ‘He pushed his too-long curls out of his eyes.
‘It’s not brilliant.’ A tiny fluttery laugh escaped from my throat. Probably wasn’t the right time for giggles, but if I didn’t laugh, I was absolutely going to cry. ‘What time’s your flight?’
‘Not until morning.’ Dan rapped a fist against his case. ‘To be honest, it was either convince you to come with me or go out and get totally hammered. Tried-and-tested method of dealing with rejection.’
‘It’s not rejection,’ I said after a few too many moments of silence. ‘I’ll be gone for a month. In the greater scheme of things, it’s really nothing.’
Didn’t feel like nothing, though. From my perspective, it felt like this was really not meant to be. I was right in the first place: never give in to the butterflies, they just make you sick. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what Dan was thinking.
‘Can I stay tonight?’ he asked.
Oh. So that’s what he was thinking. I suppose six-year epic unrequited love or not, he did still have a penis.
‘I really want to say yes,’ I whispered, my forehead resting against his. ‘But I don’t think it’s a very good idea.’
‘I think it’s a very good idea.’ His breath tickled my ear and my resolve wavered as that now-familiar feeling shivered all the way down my spine.
‘I need a bit more time.’ The words didn’t come out easily but I knew they were the right ones. ‘I don’t want to mess you about but I’m not ready.’
‘Right.’ He pulled away abruptly and leapt to his feet. ‘Plan B then, I’ll go and get hammered. Have fun in Sydney.’
‘Dan, wait.’ I tried not to keel over as he vanished from my side.
‘I’m done waiting,’ he called back, dragging the case noisily down the street. ‘Maybe you can put “call Dan” on your list when you get back from Australia.’
Of course, the grand romantic gesture would have been to kick off my heels, forget that I was desperate for a wee and run down the street after him. But New Rachel didn’t run after men. New Rachel stood on her own two feet, high heels attached, and unlocked the door to my house.
Four weeks later …
It only took one ten-hour layover at LAX to remind me why I hated flying. I shifted in my crappy chair and waited for the feeling to come back into my left arse-cheek while I pondered another run round duty-free. There was no such thing as too many cheap Toblerones.
The airport was a bit of a shock to the system after the month I’d had. The magazine shoot had been great; I’d made lots of excellent new contacts and one job led to another and to another and another. Before I knew it, I was flying out to New Zealand with a group of models from London, swimming through caves lit up by glow worms and re-enacting scenes from Xena: Warrior Princess before spending happy drunken nights hanging out on the beach. Most amazing of all, I even had a bit of a tan. So to go from the wide-open spaces of Australia and New Zealand to the confines of an airport was a bit much. I wanted to be home. I wanted to be in my bed. I wanted to find out just exactly what Emelie was thinking when she and my brother changed their Facebook status to ‘in a relationship’ last week. She’d been strangely un-Skype-able since the announcement. It was still taking some getting used to, but I was trying.
On the other hand, Matthew and Stephen couldn’t leave me alone. I took my iPhone out of my pocket and read his last message. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him this happy and he really, really wanted to share that joy. Every day I got an update of their adventures – nothing sordid, thank god, but they never left the house without letting me know where they were off to. And I suppose I was supposed to be honoured th
at they’d named their new kitten Red for me, but I just had everything crossed that they would never ask me to look after it.
The only person I hadn’t heard from was Dan. Matthew had tried to convince me that it didn’t mean anything, his arguments flipping from ‘he’s cooling off because he thinks you rejected him’ to ‘he’s giving you space to think’, depending on which suited my mood. I’d sent him a couple of emails, a couple of texts, but got nothing back. If this was Dan cooling off, they should consider using him in the fight against global warming. Just thinking about him made me feel positively chilly.
I flicked through my text messages one last time. I could call my mum. She’d love a chat. It was only, oh, four a.m. in London. Maybe not then. Besides, she was another one who had apparently jumped on the love bandwagon while I was out of town. The last time I’d called she was out at Pizza Express with the ‘gentleman friend’ she’d met at the wedding. My first instinct was to be pissed off that she’d taken him to ‘our’ place, but then I remembered I wasn’t thirteen and she was allowed to go to eat overpriced pizzas without me. It was too early to call anyone in England. Too soon to call anyone in Australia. And I was too full to eat another Panda Express.
I could call Ethan, who, having got over my callous abandonment – in that he was dating the chemistry teacher at his high school and, it turned out, hadn’t been taking the whole thing quite as seriously as I had in the first place; my ego was adequately deflated – had turned out to be a fairly constant email buddy. It was nice to have a straight boy to fire questions at, even if his answers were often lacking in tact. Really, though, what did I expect?
Giving up on communication with another human being, I put my phone away and closed my eyes. Just another two hours to go.
‘Is that an iPhone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?’
My eyes snapped open.
‘iPhone,’ I replied. ‘Definitely an iPhone.’
Dan Fraser stood in front of me. He clearly had not spent the last eight hours hunched up in an unpadded chair. Rather than crumpled, cramped and crappy, he looked fresh, tanned and far happier than he had any right to be.
‘Ouch.’ He picked my giant handbag up out of the chair next to me and replaced it with himself, cradling the bag in his lap. ‘What do you keep in here? It’s like the Tardis. Except bigger. And bluer.’
‘What are you doing here?’ I tried to funnel my shock into rage but instead I was having a minor stroke as to the state of the carry-on baggage under my eyes. What was the protocol on me running for the lavs to pop on some Touche Éclat before he answered?
‘Funny story.’ He opened my bag and peered inside. Cheek. Of. The Devil. ‘I ended up staying out here for a few weeks to try to clear my head but for some reason, I just could not stop thinking about you.’
‘And yet you were unable to return my messages.’
Hi, my name is Rachel and I make snarky comments at inappropriate moments when I don’t know what else to say.
‘And yet I was unable to return your messages,’ he agreed. ‘Because whenever I wrote down what I was thinking, it came out wrong. And because I had no idea what you were actually saying in your messages, given that they made no reference to our last conversation whatsoever.’
I thought back to my emails. There was a chance I’d gone a little too far with the ‘I’m breezy’ school of communication. It was hard to pour your heart out on a medium that could so easily be printed out and used against you at a later date. As I’d learned.
‘So I decided it was time to come home, get on with my life, when I was on the phone to Veronica and she mentioned you were coming home and that your flight connected in LA.’ He pulled four full-sized Toblerones out of my bag and raised an eyebrow. ‘And here we are.’
‘You’re on my flight?’
‘I’m on your flight.’
He really had to stop sneaking up on me when I was knackered, jetlagged or drunk. I was indecisive at the best of times but, right now, I had no idea what I was going to do. All I knew was that, now he was here, sitting beside me, I had missed him so much more than I’d let myself realize.
‘Bit convenient, isn’t it?’ I asked, not quite ready to look him straight in the eye.
‘Not really.’ He replaced the chocolate and took out my notebook and a pen. My heart stopped – and not in a good way. ‘It took me a lot of time and a lot of money to casually run into you in a departures lounge halfway round the world, but I thought the cool thing to do would be not to mention that.’
‘Fair enough.’ I bit my lips, trying to will some colour back into them. Oh god, my hair. What must my hair look like? I had Heidi plaits. Why did I have Heidi plaits?
‘Lots of new lists, he said, leafing through the pages. ‘You really do have a problem.’
‘This is not news,’ I pointed out, still trying to work out exactly what was going on. Was he just trying to make friends? ‘What are you writing?’
He turned the book around to show me. It was a short list.
Accept Dan’s apology.
Give Dan a Toblerone.
Kiss Dan.
Without even trying to accomplish the first two tasks, Dan wove his fingers into my hair, pulling me towards him until, finally, his lips were on mine. Every firework from Niagara Falls went off in my stomach, obliterating the butterfly population and putting the lightning in the shade. It just felt right. So this was why Matthew was prepared to take Stephen back. Why Emelie had held out for ten years for me to give her permission to go out with my brother. I would have waited a lifetime for another kiss like that but, luckily, I only had to wait a couple of seconds.
‘I’m sorry I was a dick that night on your doorstep,’ he murmured, his hand tangled up in my messy plaits. ‘I thought I was out of options.’
‘I really did just need some time,’ I whispered back, not caring who was watching. ‘But I know that’s not the easiest thing in the world to ask for.’
‘But it should have been,’ he countered. ‘So what do you reckon? Shall we give it a go?’
‘Well,’ I ummed and ahhed for a moment. ‘I suppose it is on the list—’
‘It is on the list,’ Dan leaned in for another kiss, cutting me off.
He always did have to have the last word.
But, it was on the list.
Acknowledgments
Thank you so much to Lynne, Victoria and the entire HarperCollins team, especially Ellie Portch, Kate Fitzpatrick and Sarah McPhee for being awesome amongst other things. Also, a special dose of international HC love to everyone at HarperCollins Canada – group hug. There aren’t enough words, kittens or drunken hugs to express how much I love Rowan Lawton and Juliet Mushens at PFD for helping me stay sane (ish) and generally being the best agents on earth. To all my friends who dedicated their time and resources to trying to stop me ever finishing this book, thanks. I should also thank Enterprise car rental for letting me and Nana Wright hire car for four whole days without any real driving experience (fools), Canada for letting us over the border despite the fact we were singing ‘You Can Call Me Al’ very loudly, Niagara Falls for being amazing and the WWE Universe for always being there.
Most importantly, THANK YOU to my new co-workers; aka my new buddies on Facebook and Twitter. You have provided me with hours of procrastination like no one before and for that, I love you all.
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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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THE SINGLE
GIRL’S TO-DO LIST. Copyright © Lindsey Kelk 2011. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Lindsey Kelk asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: 978 0 00 734563 2
EPub Edition © APRIL 2011 ISBN: 978-0-00-738375-7
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