by Lindsey Kelk
‘Angela,’ I felt him more than heard.
‘Alex.’
‘I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
I had to whisper because I didn’t trust my voice not to break. His face was too close to see clearly, but the bright green of his eyes, the white of his skin and the jet-black glossiness of his hair blurred into something magical, and it was the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes and I felt myself slip over the edge.
‘We should leave.’ Alex broke the sweaty silence moments, minutes or hours later. ‘We should go.’
‘We should go,’ I agreed, tugging at the gossamer fabric of my dress. Not displaying my knickers in public was one rule I did try to live by. Tried and failed sometimes, but still, I tried. ‘I should find Jenny, tell her I’m leaving.’
Alex nodded, combing my hair to one side. Thank God bed-head was the look I’d been going for. It was definitely the look I had now. Also known as ‘scare-crow’ or ‘homeless lady’.
‘I’ll get a cab – meet me outside.’ He kissed me briefly on the cheek before pushing the curtain aside to leave.
I sat on the edge of the bed, swinging my legs like a little girl and waiting for the flush to leave my cheeks. Alex had vanished back onto the dance floor with slightly dishevelled hair, loosened collar and a George Clooney swagger. I was left with a fright wig, red-raw chin and matching cheeks. Hardly fair. I repaired as much of the damage as I could with my powder compact and replaced my lip gloss. There, totally presentable. I hopped up and opened the curtain to find Sadie clapping her hands in front of me.
‘Oh my God, were you fucking?’ She pressed her hands against her face with glee.
‘No, I was not,’ I said with a prim sniff, nose in the air. Not for the want of trying, but she didn’t need to know that. ‘Have you seen Jenny? I think I’m going to call it a night.’
‘Oh my God, you were!’ She flashed me a million perfect teeth. ‘I saw your dude headed outside. Nice.’
If only I’d known the way to Sadie’s heart was through public acts of indecency.
‘So you’ll tell Jenny I left?’ I covered my chin as a reflex action. Stubble rash would hardly support my defence, and I didn’t feel like getting into an argument. ‘And you’ll be OK?’
‘I will be fine,’ she said loudly, swigging directly from the vodka bottle I hadn’t noticed in her left hand. ‘I have, like, a million friends here. Thousands.’
My forehead creased with the effort of following her logic. ‘But a thousand is fewer than – you know what, never mind.’ I was drunk, but not that drunk. ‘Please just tell Jenny I left?’
‘She left an hour ago.’ Second swig. ‘With the Mr Blond.’
Oh bugger. She left with Ben?
‘Left with to share a taxi or left with – you know?’
‘She left with him the same way you’re leaving with Alex. To bang his brains out.’ Sadie held out the vodka bottle. ‘Take a shot.’
‘Very generous, but I’ll pass,’ I said, rubbing a ring finger under my eyes and trying to blink away the dry ice. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Get home safe.’
‘Sure.’ She planted a far too familiar kiss directly on my lips, drowning my subtle pinkish gloss in slashes of Russian Red. ‘You be safe too.’
I was fairly certain we weren’t talking about the same thing.
‘There are condoms in my room.’
It was good of her to clarify.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The ride back to the hotel was frustratingly short, but I was sure it would be a toss-up as to who was more upset when we pulled up in front of the De Lujo – me, Alex or the cab driver. The uber-swank lobby of our hotel didn’t even register with Alex as he pulled me straight into the lift and let me press the button. It was only when we tumbled straight through the open door to our suite and onto the floor that I remembered I needed to remember something.
‘Jenny!’ I grabbed a stray stiletto sitting on the floor beside my head.
‘If you’re thinking about Jenny right now, I’m doing something really wrong.’ Alex sat up and settled his hand on my stomach.
‘No, she left! Ben!’ I waved the shoe in his face as though it would somehow make everything make sense.
‘Ben?’
‘Ben!’ I nodded feverishly. ‘She’s here! I have to get her.’
‘You know I think Jenny’s hot, but I was really thinking this might just be me and you. Come here.’
Even though I got that speeding sensation in my stomach when he spoke, I was full of drunken determination.
‘Two minutes.’ Prying his fingers from my beautiful dress, I attempted a straight line into Jenny’s room. Give or take a couple of stumbles, I made it in under a minute. ‘Jenny?’ I stage-whispered, knocking lightly on the door. ‘Jenny, are you in there?’
In my mind, I was doing a good thing. I was stopping a friend from making a big drunken mistake that she would regret in the morning. The fact that I was probably trading a night with Alex for an evening of hair-holding and silent sobbing was just part and parcel of best-friend martyrdom.
‘Jenny,’ I called a little louder. ‘I know you’re in there.’
I was her friend. And as her friend, there was no way I was going to let her throw her relationship with Sigge under a bus for the sake of a one-night-stand with an old one-night-stand. Yes, Ben was hot, but so was Sigge and he loved her. And she loved him. Jenny was impulsive and hot-headed, but she’d hate herself in the morning. She’d ‘accidentally’ cheated on someone she loved before and never forgiven herself. I wasn’t about to let her make the same mistake again.
‘ Jenny,’ I bellowed, banging on the door with my fist. ‘Open this bloody door. Right. Now.’
After all the trouble she’d caused herself with Jeff, Sigge was a breeze. He was sweet, he was attentive and he knew how to make cookies. What else could a girl want? She would never throw all that away for a quick fumble on Ben if we weren’t in Vegas. Probably. I heard the door click open slowly, quietly, as though not to wake a sleeping occupant, and waited impatiently. I was ready with my lecture. Ben was trouble, just like Jeff had been trouble.
But it wasn’t Jenny behind the door. I looked up at the tall, completely naked blond man staring at me. Like I said, he was trouble.
‘Jeff?’
‘Angela.’
We stared at each other for a moment, Jeff quickly covering his manhood with his hands, me looking away, face bright red. For some reason, he was still wearing his tie and socks. It was not a sexy look.
‘I, uh, Jenny?’
‘She’s asleep.’ His face flamed scarlet, hopefully directing some blood back up to his brain. ‘We’re sleeping.’
Of course. Nothing going on here but a perfectly innocent, naked sleepover.
‘Right then.’ I tried to move but for some reason was completely glued to the spot. ‘I’ll let you go back to … sleep?’
‘Yes. Sleep.’ He shuffled back into Jenny’s room. Through the open door I could see her, face down, passed out, completely starkers on the bed. Perfectly innocent. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘Of course.’ I waved him away, over-politeness kicking in. You could take the girl out of England … ‘Absolutely. Good night.’
Eventually, the humiliation fairies decided I’d done my time and released my feet, allowing me to sprint back to the lounge. Alex had done away with his jacket and tie (thank God) and was working on the third button of his shirt.
‘This place is amazing.’ He gestured towards the view. I couldn’t even look – the flashing lights were making me feel nauseous. At least, I wanted to blame the lights.
‘It’s not Ben.’ Whispering was entirely unnecessary, but it felt appropriate. I paced around the room, trying to work out what to do.
‘Angela, I don’t know who Ben is.’ Alex grabbed hold of my hand and held me still. But I didn’t want to be still. I felt sick. ‘Where’s Jenny?’
‘In bed!’
&nb
sp; ‘With Ben?’
I looked to the sky for strength.
‘With Jeff.’
‘Oh. Shit.’
He sat down and sank into the couch with an air of defeat.
‘Just come here.’ This time, it was a completely different command. I curled up on the couch beside him, resting my head on his shoulder while he ran his fingers through my hair, or tried to. Elnett was a bastard to brush out sometimes. ‘There’s nothing you can do about this right now, so stop worrying about it.’
‘I could go in there, slap her with a shoe and demand to know what she’s thinking?’
‘You could,’ Alex acknowledged. ‘But I think it’s safe to say she isn’t thinking right now. Just let it go.’
I lay against his chest for a quiet moment, trying to calm the swirling mess in my mind. Jenny, Jeff, Sigge, visa. Mew. Tired, drunk and emotional never went well with stressed, upset and exhausted. But instead of passing out, the combination left me restless and uncomfortable. Too tired to talk but too alert to sleep, I twisted and turned until I found my head in his lap and stretched my legs out over the arm of the sofa.
‘Sleep?’
I shook my head and stared out of the window, letting everything blur together, waiting to feel better. Instead, as soon as I was settled, the room started to spin on my behalf. Blee.
‘Talk?’
I sighed and shook my head again, weaving my soft pale fingers through Alex’s long, calloused hands and squeezing until everything settled. It took far too long. He brushed my hair away from my face while we lay in silence, rhythmically sweeping away my worries, one by one. Slowly, I began to relax. Either Alex had magic hands or I just didn’t have the energy to be so tense any more. Possibly both. Either way, I was happier.
‘Bed?’ Alex spoke in a soft, quiet voice. I could only just hear him over the hum of the air conditioner.
‘I’m not tired,’ I replied with equal fragility.
‘Good.’ He leaned down with the gentlest, softest kiss. Right away, my mind let go of everything else and focused solely on the tingling in my lips. The insistence of the last time lingered but was tempered by the dawn that was starting to glow on the horizon. I returned his kisses lazily and shuffled along the sofa to make room for his long legs on top of mine.
‘I can’t believe it’s only two days since I saw you,’ he said with half-closed eyes. ‘Feels like longer.’
‘You were fine for more than a month not that long ago,’ I reminded him. ‘Can’t have been that difficult.’
‘Who says I was fine?’ His hand trailed slowly down my spine. ‘I managed. That’s pretty much the best I can do when you’re not around.’
‘Liar.’
Alex pushed up off the sofa and held his hand out to me. His shirt was creased, hair all mussed up at the back. He looked adorable. ‘I never lie. Not to you.’
The honesty and intimacy of the moment was just all too much. In lieu of a proper response, I pressed myself against him in another long kiss, then stood with my head tucked under his chin and listened to his heartbeat. I was a rubbish grown-up.
Alex kissed the top of my head and placed a huge hand on each of my hips.
‘Bed.’ He cocked his head towards the hallway. ‘Now.’
This time it wasn’t a question.
The first thought that ran through my head eight hours later was, I wonder what’s on the buffet this morning. The second was, why do I feel like shit. And the third was lost under a tumbling weight of the three thousand other things that were determined to send me mad. Rolling over, I looked for Alex to make it better, but he wasn’t there. Damn giant memory-foam mattress. I took his absence as an opportunity to attempt to make myself look faintly more human, grabbing face wipes from the side of the bed and repeatedly dabbing day-old mascara away from under my eyes. Finally able to focus on the world around me, I noticed the piece of paper on my bedside table.
Headed back to the hotel. Call me later. A.
He had thoughtfully left his phone number after hearing the tale of the drowned BlackBerry, but wouldn’t it have been more thoughtful if he’d, I don’t know, stuck around until I woke up? For a moment I thought about being annoyed, but it seemed too much like hard work. Also, I caught a glimpse of the alarm clock and it was past twelve. He probably had plans. With Jeff.
Jeff.
Jenny.
Jenny and Jeff.
Oh cock.
As much as I did not want to, I forced myself out of bed and into the lounge. Jenny’s shoes had vanished from the hallway and been replaced by Sadie’s, and a room-service trolley sat quietly in the corner, pretending it wasn’t there. I almost turned around and went back to bed, but an out-of-place blanket on the sofa caught my attention.
‘Hi.’
The top of Jenny’s head peeped out from under the covers, her rebel curls giving her away.
‘Morning.’
I stood stock still, arms folded, brain quickly trying to decide what expression to adopt. Was I supposed to be mad? Sympathetic? Did I want the details? No. No, I did not want the details.
‘So we have to be at the heliport thing at two.’ She shuffled out from under the blanket and stretched like a dying cat. ‘I cannot think of anything I would rather not do than get in a helicopter right now, but—’
‘We’re going in a helicopter?’ I was awake. And easily distracted. ‘Really?’
‘I meant to tell you last night,’ she nodded, rubbing her eyes far too hard for someone over thirty. ‘Erin organized it as a Christmas gift.’
Lovely Erin. I was going to have to give her that scarf after all. And a hug.
‘Yeah, so we need to leave in like, half an hour?’
‘Jenny?’
‘Angela?’
‘What happened last night?’
She stood up, wrapped one arm around the opposite shoulder, showed off her best yoga stretch, then did the other, looking me in the eye with a shrug.
‘Nothing.’
Well.
‘Nothing?’
‘Apart from you getting in touch with your inner Gaga?’
‘What happened with you?’
‘Nothing happened with me.’ She actually laughed. ‘I wasn’t the one who decided to take up pole dancing then eff my boyfriend behind a curtain.’
‘I didn’t actually eff anyone,’ I replied, desperately trying to suppress the memory of the pole dancing. That was going in the vault. But really? She was just going to pretend it didn’t happen?
‘Relax.’ Jenny gave me a quick passing hug as she headed into the bedroom to get dressed. ‘It’s Vegas, it doesn’t count. Crazy shit goes down.’
Colour me gobsmacked.
Apparently so, I thought. Like me pole dancing, meeting movie stars in the gents and a bit of selective amnesia.
The ride out to the heliport was more awkward than an awkward thing. Sadie, oblivious to everything as per, talked about herself and her fabulous evening dancing with James Jacobs (who she was sure wasn’t really gay because of the way he kept looking at her – I just couldn’t be arsed to burst her bubble) and how wonderful she felt. I suspected pharmaceutical intervention; there was no way someone could drink the way she had been drinking and still be so bloody chipper. Jenny encouraged her with the odd enthusiastic noise, but spent most of the car ride staring at the scenery, bottle of Vitamin Water permanently attached to her right hand, mobile phone to her left.
I stared at Jenny through very dark, very big sunglasses, ready to leap out of my seat at any moment and yell ‘ J’accuse!’, but I didn’t. I was mad at her for cheating on Sigge. I was mad at her for sleeping with a man who was engaged. But mostly I was mad at her for lying to me. I was hurt. My sensible voice, which weirdly often took a similar tone to Louisa’s, reminded me this wasn’t about me. Maybe she was genuinely hurt and confused and just wasn’t ready to process what had happened out loud.
But then my more judgemental voice, which sounded not at all weirdly just like my
mother, pointed out that she had lied to my face and I had every right to be angry. I didn’t know what to do. Maybe Jeremy Kyle was on Twitter. He’d know. It didn’t help that the righteous indignation voice was much louder and more persuasive when accompanied by a soundtrack of Sadie and an increasing headache.
I looked at Jenny and sulked. I wished I had some Vitamin Water.
After the longest car journey in the history of man, we bundled out of the car into blazing sunshine that was disturbingly cold and were led into a small boxy office, given unflattering to everyone-alive-except-for-my-two-friends jumpsuits and made to stand on a scale. As if I didn’t feel bad enough.
‘OK, ladies.’ A young man in shorts, T-shirt and trainers stood in front of us chewing loudly and visibly. ‘This is what’s going down. My name is Cody. We’re gonna fly out to the Canyon, circle around a little so you can take some pictures, and then we’re gonna set down, take a little walk and head back. Should be about two hours. Now, concerns? Questions?’
I only had one.
I raised my hand.
‘Are you the pilot?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Cody replied with a curt nod.
All of a sudden, I didn’t feel terribly happy about the helicopter. Pilots were like doctors. They were supposed to be older than you and always wearing a suit. Or at least proper shoes. And they were almost certainly never called Cody. They had respectable, no-nonsense names like Peter or Brian or Colin. I bet no one called Colin ever crashed a flying vehicle. Anneka Rice never got into a helicopter with someone chewing gum. And if Anneka didn’t do it, I wasn’t doing it.