I Heart Forever

by Lindsey Kelk

  ‘I have been a very different person since The Vampire Diaries finished,’ I replied thoughtfully. ‘And I prefer it when things come about one at a time. This feels like a lot at once.’

  ‘Yeah?’ she agreed. ‘Kind of like finding out your boyfriend is cheating on you and your best friend knew all about it and is moving to another country without consulting a single soul?’

  ‘What kind of a fool would do something like that?’ I asked through gritted teeth.

  ‘Everything is going to be different,’ Erin said. ‘And not all of it is going to be great. There will be days when you don’t shower, when you hate your baby and its constant pooping, and you detest your womb-less husband – but you know what? By the time you’ve changed that shitty baby and googled how much it costs to get a divorce, you’ll feel better. And the next day won’t be quite so bad.’

  ‘You paint such a beautiful picture of motherhood,’ I said, catching sight of some split ends lit up by the neon sign in the window of the bodega. I needed a trim badly. ‘Thanks for the pep talk.’

  Across the avenue, the door of a bar swung open and a bubble of music and laughter popped out onto the street. A group of friends, two men and three women, grabbed on to each other’s necks, heads thrown back with laughter. Two of the women sang a song I didn’t recognize and one of the men gave the other a piggyback ride down to the end of the block.

  ‘Don’t they look happy?’ I bounced my weight from one foot to the other, my feet were really starting to sting. ‘And possibly underage.’

  ‘They look drunk,’ Erin replied. ‘You don’t remember that because it’s been a while, right? You’re going to be a great mom, Angela, but yeah, things are going to change.’

  ‘I fear change,’ I said, pulling the sleeves of my dress over my fingertips. I was officially cold. ‘Change is bad.’

  ‘No such thing as good and bad change,’ she corrected. ‘Only easy change and difficult change. You know who said that?’

  ‘Oprah?’ I guessed.

  ‘No, I was really asking – I can’t remember.’ She scrunched up her face and shrugged. ‘It does sound like Oprah. Maybe it was Jenny. Or I might have heard it on The Real Housewives.’

  ‘Shall we go back inside and find the bride-to-be?’ I suggested, rubbing my arms. ‘You must be freezing in that.’

  ‘Me?’ She looked at the goose bumps on her bare skin and blinked. ‘I’m great, babe, I’m so drunk right now, I can’t feel anything.’

  I sighed as I followed her back into the karaoke bar. It was hard to take solace in advice from a woman so wasted she kept trying to pull the door open when there was a great big ‘PUSH’ sticker right in front of her face.

  ‘In vino veritas,’ I told myself as we worked our way back through the crowded bar. ‘So much vino.’

  ‘The minute you walked in the joint—’

  Through the window of our room, I saw my mother, standing on a coffee table, microphone in one hand, bottle of exceptionally cheap champagne in the other, belting out Shirley Bassey’s greatest hits like she was in the middle of the sing-off on The X Factor.

  ‘I could see you were a man of distinction, a real big spender.’

  At the end of the line, she gave a kick much higher than I would have suspected she was capable of. I watched as her shoe flew through the air, arcing gracefully across the room before landing square in Sadie’s face.

  ‘My nose!’ she screamed. ‘You’ve broken my nose.’

  ‘Oh pish.’ Mum’s eyes followed the words on the screen above her. ‘I bet it’s not even bruised. They’re a very light shoe, you know. It’s a Marks and Spencer Footglove.’

  ‘You’ve ruined my life,’ Sadie wailed. ‘It’s definitely broken.’

  ‘Pinch your nose and tip your head forward,’ Mum ordered, sadly climbing down from the table. The backing track to ‘Big Spender’ continued to blare out of the speakers as everyone descended on Sadie and her million-dollar face. ‘Or is it back? I don’t know … Can you taste pennies?’

  ‘Might be time to head,’ Erin said, pointing over at Jenny. Our bachelorette was curled up in a corner, covered in coats and smiling to herself, fast asleep. She looked like an incredibly glamorous dormouse. ‘I’ll call a cab.’

  ‘Good idea,’ I said, patting the bump and congratulating it on a relatively successful evening. ‘Good idea, indeed.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ‘Oh. My. God.’

  ‘What?’ I stuck an earbud in my ear, proofreading the final fashion pages as I answered Jenny’s call. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong. Everything is right. I think I’m dreaming,’ I could practically hear her bouncing off the walls. ‘You won’t believe this, but I called Amy, that British girl who runs AJB, to see if they had anything I could wear for the wedding and it turns out Bertie Bennett is launching a bridal collection next season and he’s gonna let me wear one of the sample dresses. Bertie Bennett is making me a wedding dress and I have to go meet with him tonight.’

  ‘Does he definitely know it’s you and not the other Jennifer Lopez?’ I asked, a little dazed. This was huge.

  ‘I don’t know and I don’t care,’ she sang. ‘You have to come.’

  ‘Jenny, I can’t.’ I stared at the clock to try and turn it backwards. AJB dresses were so beautiful and Bertie Bennett was a fashion legend, if it had been any other day, I would have happily murdered almost anyone for the opportunity to hang out with him. Jenny had been handling their PR for the last couple of years, but this was an incredible coup, even for La Lopez. ‘It’s press day and I’ve still got more than half the magazine to approve. There’s no way I’ll be done here before ten.’

  ‘You can’t sneak out early, maid of honour?’ she tried her best, most wheedling tone of voice. ‘For your best friend? Your old pal, Jenny?’

  ‘You know there is nothing I would love more,’ I said, circling a typo in the second paragraph. ‘But I really can’t. Is there any way you could move it to tomorrow?’

  ‘When Bertie Bennett offers to give you a wedding dress, you don’t ask questions, you just go,’ she replied. ‘I just cancelled a new business meeting I’ve had in the diary for months. Wait, no, I haven’t. Don’t tell Erin.’

  ‘Send me photos,’ I said, holding the marked-up pages out to Sophie who was waving from the doorway. ‘And if some sort of miracle happens, I’ll let you know.’

  ‘What if I call in a bomb threat?’ she suggested. ‘I know that’s not funny, but Angie, this is Bertie-fricking-Bennett.’

  ‘There’s a nuclear bunker underneath the building with WiFi, Censhare, and an FTP server,’ I answered. ‘If you do that, I’ll never get away.’

  ‘Wild,’ she whistled in response. ‘Fine, I’ll take photos. Maybe Sadie can come with.’

  ‘Is she still wearing the protective face mask?’ I asked. ‘I saw it on Instagram last night, Mum was well tickled.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe I’ll go on my own,’ Jenny replied in a sulk. ‘Go finish your magazine. Love you.’

  ‘Love you,’ I said, popping out the earbud and opening up the news pages.

  ‘Is there really a nuclear bunker underneath the building?’

  I looked up to see a confused look on Eva’s face. Of course, the neon pink desk had been for her. Of course, Joe had decided the best way for her to integrate into the company was to share an office with me. Of course, I was ready to chuck myself out of the window after dealing with it for three-quarters of a day.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I replied, offering her my best attempt at a smile. ‘It was a joke.’

  ‘Was that your friend?’ she asked. ‘The one who’s getting married?’

  ‘Yep,’ I said, studying my computer screen very closely.

  ‘That’s exciting. I’ve never been a bridesmaid,’ Eva said, picking up a tablet and tapping out a note. ‘You should vlog it. For the website.’

  ‘Probably won’t,’ I said, catching sight of her deflated face in the corner
of my eye. ‘Good idea, though.’

  Why would anyone think it was a good idea to move someone into my office on press day? Because that person is a wanker, the voice in my head whispered. The voice in my head spoke so much sense.

  It was already dark outside. Even though it was only three in the afternoon, we’d had an entire day of terrible weather, rain, rain and more rain and the sun hadn’t even made an attempt at putting in an appearance. The weather forecast was better for the weekend but I was still keeping everything crossed for sunshine at the wedding.

  In the bottom of my computer screen, I noticed a new message notification. It was my mum.

  CAN YOU SEE HAMILTON 2NITE?

  Hamilton? They had Hamilton tickets?

  You got tix? I replied, fingers like lightning.

  UR DAD MET NICE MAN IN THE PARK. HE’S IN IT. IS IT GOOD?

  I had been trying to get tickets to Hamilton for two years. They were like unicorn poop rolled in diamond dust, completely unobtainable unless you were insanely lucky or obscenely rich. Alex had pulled every string in his musical book to snag two for my birthday the year before, but I decided it was a good idea to eat three-day-old Mexican leftovers for lunch, and when I should have been enjoying the vocal stylings of Lin-Manuel Miranda, I had a front seat to the inside of my toilet bowl. Jenny and Mason went instead and she called me during the intermission, in tears because it was so good. I still hadn’t forgiven them for not lying.

  It’s v good, I told Mum. Get tix and go!!!

  U AND ALEX 2?

  She doesn’t mean to shout, she just likes the bigger letters, I told myself, letting out a cleansing breath.

  I have to work, I replied. Take Dad, he’ll like it. It’s historical.

  MAN SAID ITS FUNNY. WILL SEE MIGHT GO XXX

  I turned my attention back to my computer screen, groaning as all the letters swirled together.

  ‘Hey, chief,’ Jason knocked on my door and grinned. ‘Hi, Eva.’

  ‘Hi, Jason!’ she replied, practically leaping out of her chair with emoji hearts in her eyes when he walked in. I wasn’t sure who was going to tell her just how very gay he was but it certainly wasn’t going to be me.

  ‘You look so great today, chief,’ he said, holding out a Snickers bar. ‘Is that a new highlighter?’

  ‘Yes,’ I replied, angry at myself for being pleased. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Would it be OK if I run out for an hour?’ he asked, holding his hands together in prayer. ‘My roommate’s boyfriend is dancing with Justin Timberlake at this thing they’re recording for Extra. It’s only at Radio City, I will be gone for mere moments. You’ll barely even believe I left my desk.’

  ‘It’s press day,’ I said, holding up a handful of white pages in case he, the managing editor, wasn’t sure what that meant. ‘I need you here.’

  ‘Yeah, I know, but I’ll make it up,’ he bargained, carefully placing the Snickers on my desk. ‘I’ll stay as late as you need me, I swear it.’

  ‘What if I don’t want to stay late?’ I asked, tearing into the Snickers before he could take it back.

  Jason began to laugh, slapping his thigh to illustrate just how amused he was.

  ‘Good one,’ he said, clicking his fingers as he left. ‘You almost had me there. I’ll be back ASAP, call me if you need me. I won’t be more than an hour, two at most. We’ll get this baby to bed by ten!’

  What an arsehole. I couldn’t make my best friend’s first wedding dress fitting, my parents had scored free tickets to Hamilton, and my staff were taking the piss.

  ‘Cici was right,’ I realized. ‘I am a bad boss. Anna Wintour probably has snipers at the ready to take out staff who bunk off on press day.’

  I looked out the window and waited for the flying pigs. Cici Spencer was right.

  Grabbing my phone, I started a text to Alex. I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted him to say but I was certain he could come up with something helpful.

  The baby wanted a Snickers, I typed, adding a photo of the half-eaten chocolate bar. What are you doing?

  Working, he replied. No kisses, no emojis. Super harsh.

  On new music? I asked.

  Yep, he texted back. Talk later.

  ‘Fine,’ I muttered, shoving the rest of the Snickers into my mouth and undoing the top button of my jeans. ‘We will talk later, arse.’

  ‘You want to talk later?’ Eva asked.

  ‘Don’t mind me,’ I said, fake laughing. ‘Sometimes I talk to myself.’

  ‘That might be kind of distracting,’ she frowned, scratching her head behind the neon pink desk Joe had shoved directly in front of mine. ‘I guess I’ll have to get used to it.’

  ‘I guess,’ I replied with a manic grin.

  Outside my window, the sky blackened, thunder rumbled across the city – and I really hoped Jason had forgotten to take an umbrella.

  The rain still hadn’t let up when I eventually approved the last pages, dead on the dot of seven. Leaving Jason to send everything to print, I practically ran across the lobby, desperate to leave the building. I hadn’t set foot outside all day and I needed fresh air, I needed to get home, and I needed to talk to Alex.

  ‘I thought you were never going to leave.’

  Cici stepped out of the shadows of the neighbouring building as I fought with my umbrella.

  ‘Are you trying to give me a heart attack?’ I asked, chucking my umbrella up in the air. Rain hammered the top of my head, soaking my hair through as I bent over to retrieve it. ‘What on earth are you doing?’

  ‘Waiting for you?’ she replied, as though it was obvious. She held out her own massive golf umbrella, her blonde blowout untouched by something as vulgar as weather. ‘I need to talk to you about a thing.’

  ‘And you couldn’t do that, say, in the warm, dry confines of the massive office building behind me?’ I asked.

  ‘Uh, no,’ she replied. ‘Grandpa had all the offices bugged years ago – you didn’t know that?’

  ‘I bloody well absolutely did know it,’ I said, punching the air and almost two passersby at the same time. ‘Regardless, this is bad timing, I’m knackered. Can we catch up another time?’

  ‘Look, Angela, we both know you’re going to give in eventually,’ she said impatiently. ‘So, let’s just get it over with. I made a reservation at the Four Seasons.’

  Just in case I’d forgotten how obscenely rich she was.

  ‘Cici, the Four Seasons is ten blocks away, it’s hammering it down, and I haven’t been to the toilet in seventeen minutes,’ I said. ‘There’s no way we’re walking all that way. If you’ve got something to say, you can say it here or you can get on the subway and come back to my house.’

  ‘Brooklyn?’ she recoiled. ‘Eww.’

  ‘As much as I’d love to stand here getting piss wet through, I’ve got to go,’ I said, popping my own umbrella and showering myself in the face in the process. ‘So nice to see you, we must do this again some time.’

  ‘No!’ She stamped her shiny black Hunter rain boot and her umbrella shook itself off like a wet dog. ‘This is really important. I stood out here in the rain to wait for you, and you know I hate admitting this, but I really need your help. Will you please come to the Four Seasons with me?’

  ‘If you want someone to check out your Tinder date before you go into the bar again, I am not your girl,’ I warned. ‘Don’t think I didn’t hear about that.’

  ‘I only did that maybe five or six times,’ she replied sulkily.

  So many interns had suffered under her reign of terror.

  ‘This is important,’ Cici said with a straight face and something that looked like earnestness in her eyes. ‘I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.’

  I pressed my mouth into a hard line, raindrops dripping down the back of my neck and a baby pressing on my bladder. The internet said it was still only the size of a lime but never in my life had a lime made me need to pee this much. At least, not unless it came on the side of a shot of tequila.
/>
  ‘Angela,’ she said, reaching out to take my hand in hers. ‘Please.’

  Whoa. This was an unprecedented moment. I wasn’t entirely sure what to do and I wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t been taken over by body snatchers.

  ‘OK,’ I said slowly, gesturing for her to lead the way. ‘Four Seasons it is.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she muttered, waving to a black town car that pulled a sharp U-turn across 42nd Street and came to a stop right in front of us. ‘Please don’t pee in the car.’

  Of course, she had a town car waiting for her, I thought, whipping out my phone to send Jenny a notification in Find My Friends, just in case.

  ‘You’re doing what?’ I asked, pinching myself under the table while Cici calmly sipped a Scotch on the rocks.

  ‘I’ve set up my own media company,’ she replied. ‘Why do you look so shocked? It makes perfect sense when you think about it.’

  ‘But your grandfather already owns one of the biggest media companies in the world,’ I reminded her. ‘And your sister, your identical twin sister, is the president of that company.’

  ‘Yeah, I had not forgotten about that, but thanks for the heads-up,’ she said. Along the bar, two handsome men in suits threw her smiles, only to be shut down with nothing more than a roll of her crystal-clear blue eyes. ‘After we had lunch, I was thinking about what I’m good at, what I know, and that’s when it hit me. I’m good at managing people and I know media. I don’t know how to write, but I know what good writing looks like, and I have the most important skill already, I know how to make people do what I want.’

  ‘I don’t know if that’s the most important,’ I said, still struggling to grasp what she was telling me. ‘But yay?’

  ‘I know how to manage people who know what they’re doing,’ she said, spinning her bar stool around so that her long, slender legs were pointed directly at me. ‘Which is why you’re here.’