by Lacey London
My phone bleeps and I wiggle it out of the back pocket of my skinny jeans. Oh no, it’s George. I hesitate for a minute before I open the message.
Hey Clara. Hope you had fun in Manchester? Can’t wait to see you on Friday xxx
My fingers hover above the keyboard, trying to find a suitable response. I really need to break things off with George. Now that I have taken things to the next level with Oliver, it seems the right thing to do. I decide it best to wait until Friday and tell him face to face that I can’t see him anymore. I know we weren’t exactly exclusive or anything, but breaking things off via text message does seem a little callous. I am about to put my phone away when another message flashes up on the screen.
I had an amazing time with you. I hear rumours of a fashion exhibition in Paris next weekend if you don’t already have plans…
Oh mon Dieu.
Chapter 30
As I arrive at Suave on Monday morning, I am feeling rather anxious about seeing Oliver. I don’t really know how I should act around him. Buzzing myself into the building, I take one look at the crowd of people waiting for the lift and decide to take the stairs for a change. Puffing my way up the many flights of stairs is more difficult than I anticipated. By the third floor, my thighs are burning and the soles of my feet feel like they are going to drop off.
I stop for breath when I reach my floor and cling on to the hand rail. I really need to get to a gym. My fitness level must be that of a slightly overweight, diabetic pensioner. Once my breathing has returned to what is relatively normal, I head for the studio. From the stairs, I can see that the lights are on in the studio which means Oliver is already here.
Peering through the glass, I watch him tapping away at his laptop, only stopping to take a bite of a massive bagel. Before he catches me peeping like a crazed stalker, I tuck my bag over my shoulder and pull open the doors.
‘Good morning,’ I flash him a grin and shake off my coat.
‘Hey,’ he stands up immediately and kisses me briefly on the lips.
My heart pulsating throughout my body, I dump my bag on the floor and point to his bagel.
‘That looks good.’ I eye up the cream cheese and smoked salmon enviously.
‘Want me to go fetch you one?’
‘I’ve already eaten but thank you.’ Touched by his cuteness, I reach up and land a tiny peck on his cheek.
He flips through a sketch pad and opens it on a boot blue print.
‘So, the suede, Chelsea boots. Are we going for pull on or zipper?’
It’s surprising how fast the working day goes by when you’re crushing as bad as a thirteen year old Belieber. By home time, I was getting concerned that I had a sea of floating hearts twirling around my head. I had managed to tear myself away from Oliver long enough to arrange catch up with Lianna for this evening. It might only have been a few days since I last saw her, but so much has happened and I really need to fill her in. I’m also desperate to find out what has been going on with Dan. I overheard Rebecca saying they had been caught being rather amorous in the staff room on Saturday and the nosey old lady inside me just has to get all the gory details.
Being the good friend I am, I stopped off for pizza on the way. Well, when I say pizza, I mean pizza, spicy wedges, garlic bread, cookie dough ice cream and a bottle of 7up. I would say that my eyes are bigger than my belly, but I know full well that between Li and myself the entire lot will be polished off. Balancing the boxes down the corridor is trickier than it seems. On at least two occasions I have to make a superhero save.
Once safely inside Lianna’s apartment, I pass the mountain of food over and collapse onto an overstuffed bean bag.
‘So, how was Manchester?’ She passes me a slice and motions towards the 7up.
Nodding, I put the plate down on the coffee table and slide down onto the floor.
‘It was insane. I don’t even know where to begin.’
I start with the champagne train ride and continue right through to The Valentina. By the time I have got to the amazing sex on the kitchen floor, Lianna is open mouthed.
‘Well, say something!’ I laugh at her reaction and prod her in the ribs.
‘I don’t believe you! Things like that don’t happen in real life! You’re not in a Reese Witherspoon film!’
‘Well, if you think that is unbelievable, just wait for this.’ I stuff a few wedges into my mouth and wash them down with fizzy, crisp, lime bubbles.
‘He told me he wants a proper relationship. He actually sat me down and said he was looking for marriage, children, the whole thing.’
Lianna is doing a fantastic impression of a guppy fish, mouth wide open, eyes the size of Christmas tree baubles.
‘Oh my god! What did you say? What did you say?’
‘I said that I like him too.’ Despite my best efforts, I feel my cheeks fire up.
‘You love him!’
‘Oh shut up! I don’t love him.’
‘You totally do.’
‘What’s going on with Dan anyway? You know, apart from the obvious.’ I wink and toddle into the kitchen in search of more pizza.
‘I’m not just sleeping with him, Clara. We are really going to give this a go and I think it’s going to work this time.’
‘What makes you think he is ready to settle down?’ I look at my friend, so full of hope and expectation.
‘He told me so.’ She flashes me a smug look and holds out her plate.
Tossing some more slices into onto the plates, I fill any leftover space with wedges and chilli sauce.
‘Have you seen anything of Marc lately?’ I throw the question out there and wonder whether or not to tell her about him being in Manchester.
‘I haven’t. He has been the disappearing man lately and so has Gina, more the worry.’ She pulls a face and holds up her hand in protest.
Talk about there being something in the water. Lianna is settling down with Dan, I have been accosted by an ardent American and Marc, well I don’t really know what Marc and Gina’s situation is and I’m not too sure I want to find out. I hope they don’t decide to settle down and make babies, I don’t quite think the world is ready for mini Gina’s. A mini Cockburn-Stroker. What a thought.
Chapter 31
‘I must admit that I am very impressed. This is exactly the vibe that we are looking for.’ Marc scans his eyes over the designs and continues to chew Oliver’s ear off about the incredible quality of the buffed leather.
It is just after four and we are sat in Marc’s office, submitting eight of our final designs. I still can’t believe we have done so much already. We are way ahead of schedule and only need four more to complete the entire line. Feeling rather sad at the thought of my work placement with Oliver drawing to an end, I remind myself that he may very well become a more permanent fixture in my life.
‘What about the snow boots?’ Marc passes the folder back over to Oliver.
‘Working on it, couple more weeks and they will be finalised.’ He stands up and makes for the door.
‘Excellent. Well done, both of you.’
Aww, Marc is so cute when he puts his professional head on. Straight faced, affable yet firm. You would never believe that he polishes off an ocean of Rioja and his weight in cheesy chips post Breaking Bad epic. I shoot him a smile and a questioning look as he tries to silence his buzzing phone. The buzzing phone that hasn’t stopped buzzing the entire meeting. I can tell that it’s a woman, because if any employee blew his phone up there like that they would get an earful.
Walking down the corridor, Oliver pulls me to one side by the fire exit.
‘I was thinking, why don’t you come and stay over at mine tonight?’ His eyes glint under the bright spotlights.
‘Well, I was kind of planning on a night in the tub tonight.’ I shrug my shoulders regrettably.
‘We can do that.’
‘I was kidding!’
He pulls me in close and nuzzles his face into my neck.
‘I wasn
’t.’
I had seen pictures of Oliver’s apartment a while back, so I kind of knew what to expect. Stepping over the threshold however, makes me realise why he wasn’t as taken with The Valentina as I was. This place is what you imagine only people like Angelina and Brad would live in. Walking around carefully, I notice how clean this place is. For a boy’s apartment, you would think it would be rather untidy. I was expecting take out boxes on the side, empty beer cans strewed around, but this place is immaculate. He must have a cleaner, I conclude.
‘So, bathtub?’ He motions towards the bathroom and takes my coat.
‘What? You’re not going to feed me first? You know, I need feeding and watering for me to be fully functional.’
Laughing, he does a hop, skip and a jump over to the kitchen and pulls out a huge mound of take out menus. Flicking on the world biggest coffee machine, he hands me the menus. I kick off my shoes and snuggle down into the sofa. Greek, Indian, Chinese, Thai, Mexican. Ohh, Mexican.
‘How do you feel about Mexican?’ I look up as he places a mug down on the old, oaked, coffee table.
‘Wow! That is really impressive!’ I pick up the mug and marvel and the intricate pattern of a palm tree, complete with sun and clouds.
‘Yeah, I trained as a barista when I was in college. It’s not really worth doing for yourself, but it’s nice to impress when you have company.’
I smile and take a sip, trying not to think about who else has been treated to an Oliver special.
He drops down on the sofa and flips through the menus.
‘Why don’t you do American take out over here?’
‘We do. It’s called McDonalds.’
He pauses and scrunches up his nose.
‘Mexican it is then.’
Crunching away at a pile of salty, guacamole covered nachos, I stretch my legs out over Oliver’s knees. After successfully devouring enough to feed the five thousand, my stomach has swelled up to that of a second trimester pregnancy. Why am I still shoving in nachos, I have no idea. Oliver has successfully talked me into a Desperado or three. I would have declined, it being a school night and all, but with us having Mexican, it felt rude not to.
‘I spoke to my folks this morning. Told them I’ve met someone.’ He rubs my calves and waits for my response.
Feeling my over full stomach fall through the floor, I take a big slug from my bottle along with a deep breath.
‘And what did they say?’ Suddenly extremely worried about what his family will think, I fumble with my zipper nervously.
‘They said if we give them grandchildren, they have to be raised American.’ He looks at me seriously for a second too long before breaking into a smile.
‘I’m kidding! They’re just happy I’ve found someone, to quote my mother, at long last. Have you told anybody about us?’
‘Erm, I actually haven’t. I didn’t know whether you would feel comfortable or not putting a label on it so soon.’
‘I don’t do labels, Clara. Not unless that label is man and wife. I just don’t see anything wrong with letting the people that matter know that I have found someone that I enjoy spending time with. Do you?’
My head tells me that it is too soon to be committing to someone, but my hearts tells me that this is right. That Oliver is a good, honest, strong man and I should be thanking my lucky stars that a man who could have his pick, has chosen me. I shake my head in response and allow him to pull me into a huge bear hug. Right now, my life is pretty much perfect. Time to get working on that dog.
Chapter 32
My first thought when I come round on Wednesday morning, is how amazing it is waking up being spooned by a lovely, warm Oliver. My second thought is to rearrange with George for tonight. I don’t want to leave it any longer. I watch Oliver sleeping, all toasty and pink skinned. He almost looks like a new born, legs curled up tight in a foetal position. I resist the temptation to stoke his pretty face and let out a lion worthy yawn. Reaching over for my phone with tired fingers, I manage to type out a quick message, before dropping my phone flat on my face. I try and fail to catch it before it lands on the bridge of my nose with a thud.
‘Oww!’ Grabbing the offending handset and throwing it down onto the floor, I cry out in pain.
‘Everything OK?’ A half asleep Oliver rouses at the racket and prises one eye open.
Not wanting to admit that I am a clumsy oaf, I roll over to face him, praying that I haven’t given myself a nose bleed.
‘Everything’s fine. I was just turning my alarm off. Time to get up, sleepyhead.’
‘Just five more minutes.’ He pulls the heavy duvet up over our heads and wraps his arms around my waist.
‘Mr.Morgan, you are going to make me very late for work.’
He puts a finger to my mouth with mock severity.
‘My bed, my rules. Now roll over.’
Arriving at the office, I can’t help but feel rather pleased with myself. I lose track of the many envious glances we accrue in such a short space of time. From Rebecca, to Nathaniel on reception, if looks could kill we wouldn’t have made it through the door. Now, of course we are going to keep an air of professionalism during working hours, but it is clear for anyone to see that there is something going on between us, no matter how hard we try to disguise it.
Safely tucked away in the studio, I take off my coat and check my phone for messages. No text messages, but I do have a missed call and a subsequent voicemail from George. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I turn back towards the door.
‘I’m just going to run to the toilets.’
Oliver looks up from his laptop and nods before returning to his emails. I totter out into the lobby and speed dial voicemail. After listening to the obligatory pre recorded message, George’s cockney twang floods into my ear.
‘Hi, Clara. Great to hear from you. It’s my mum’s birthday tonight, so I’m not going to be able to meet. Hope you’re still cool for Friday? Really looking forward to seeing you. Let me know.’
Ending the call, I feel immediately guilty. I should call him now and explain that I have met someone. Problem is, how do I actually form the sentence without sounding like the village bike? I rack my brains for a good few minutes, getting as far as a dialling tone before giving up and deciding to stick to the meeting on Friday.
I am about to head back into the studio when I notice Marc’s slick, silver Mercedes pull up in the car park. Leaning on the window sill to get a better view, I am just about to wave when the passenger seat opens and out jumps Gina. In a painted on red pencil dress and huge hoop earrings, she looks truly ridiculous and without being a bitch, a little plumper than usual. I stifle a giggle as they share a quick kiss before strategically walking a metre apart into the building. Who are they kidding?
By the time I have dashed around the supermarket that evening and dipped myself in a fizzy, hot bath, I am dead on my feet. Crawling under my pretty, purple duvet is a sweet relief. No matter how luxurious Oliver’s bed is, no matter how soft his million thread count sheets are, nowhere quite feels like your own bed. Kicking a leg out of the covers and quickly pulling it back in again when the cold air nips at my toes, it suddenly dawns on me how close to Christmas we are. Granted it might only be October, but experience tells me it will fly by.
I love Christmas, always have. Ever since I was six years old and left a chunky carrot and icy glass of bourbon out for Santa and Rudolf. My mind flits to Oliver and I can’t help but picture us wearing matching snowman jumpers and silly paper hats. I am really touched that he has told his family about us. Maybe I should think about introducing him to my Lianna properly. I know she knows who he is, but a double date with her and Dan would be ideal. I check the clock, far too late to text her now. Making a mental note to arrange something tomorrow, I shut my eyes slowly and allow my body to relax. Before I know it, I am sucked into a magical dream world of Christmas puddings, fairy lights and mulled wine, although I think for me, Santa has come early this year.
Chapter 33
We are sat in Subway finishing off our lunches, when Oliver springs the impromptu invite on me.
‘So, what do you say?’ Looking at me hopefully, he waits for an answer.
The first thing that comes to my mind, is what the hell will I wear? I usually need a good few hours to settle on an outfit, so it is understandable that I am more than a little concerned.
‘It’s just a couple of drinks, that’s all. No biggie.’
I look down at my boring, black trousers and plain, cowl neck jumper dubiously. More funeral than party. Remembering that I have a teeny can of hairspray and an old red lipstick in my handbag, I put down my sandwich. It might not be a little, black dress and sky scraper heels but it’s the best I’ve got to work with.
‘OK. I’ll go.’ I succumb to his puppy dog eyes and reach for my coffee.
‘That’s my girl.’ He gives my arm a squeeze and turns his attention back to his foot long baguette.
As I sip my tepid coffee, I wonder what Oliver’s friends will be like. He hasn’t said much about his previous visit to the UK. Apart from him being barely out of his teens at the time, I don’t really know anything more about it. Putting down my paper cup, I return to my sandwich, picking up the hundreds of bacon pieces that fall out into the paper wrapper. Who doesn’t love a bit of bacon?
Dragging a brush through my curls at 5.30 that afternoon, I stare myself down in the mirror. In all honesty, I don’t look too bad. The quick slick of matt red has managed to brighten my face up an iota and my hair still has some bounce from the last minute blow dry a few days ago. Satisfied that my appearance is acceptable I make my way outside, where Oliver is waiting with a cab.
‘Ready to rock?’ He asks, holding open the door.
‘Rock? I thought you said it was just a few drinks?’ I exclaim, immediately panicking at the thought of being thrown into a nightclub with just red lips for confidence.
‘Relax! It’s an expression. Geez.’ He ushers me into the back of the car with a cheeky tap on the bum.