I Heart Hawaii: Escape with the funniest and most fabulous romcom of summer 2019 (I Heart Series, Book 8)

by Lindsey Kelk

  Or at least I would if I hadn’t locked myself out of the apartment.

  ‘Do not freak out,’ I told myself as I immediately started to freak out. What if the house burned down? What if Alice got out of her cot? What if I’d left my curling iron on? I hadn’t used it in about three years but what if it’d been on for three whole years?

  ‘People say these things will never happen but it literally just happened,’ I whispered to myself, gripping the door handle so tightly and shaking it so hard, my fingers turned white. Nothing.

  And if things weren’t bad enough, I heard a rumble of thunder overhead. I looked up and saw the sky was heavy with dark clouds. Fantastic. A summer storm was just what I needed.

  I pressed the doorbell for our upstairs neighbours, holding it down and fighting back tears. It was still raining, I didn’t have my phone and Alice was screaming inside the apartment but there was nothing to be done, no one was home. All out of other options, I ran around the side of the building and climbed over the assorted shit that had made itself a home in the alleyway between our building and the next. Plastic crates, an abandoned office chair and bottle upon bottle upon bottle. I stretched as far as I could without doing myself a mischief, as my dad would say, trying not to look down at whatever was crawling around underneath all the junk. They said you were never more than six feet away from a rat in New York but six feet felt very generous at that exact moment in time.

  ‘This won’t traumatize her at all,’ I whispered, dusting off the dirt and cobwebs from my baggy sweatpants, I Heart NY T-shirt and neon pink hoodie, finally finding myself in what passed for our backyard. Alice’s bedroom window was just a few feet up, all I had to do was pop the screen, slide open the window, climb inside and reset the alarm before it went off and automatically called the police.

  Easy.

  Dragging a dustbin over to the window, I climbed up on shaky legs, the rain still pouring down. I was worried that if I didn’t get inside, Alice would scream herself sick, but I was also worried that if I tripped, fell and broke my neck, not only would she have to grow up motherless, I would have to spend eternity knowing my own mother walked around my funeral telling everyone how her idiot daughter died climbing on a dustbin in the rain while breaking into her own apartment.

  ‘We just pop the screen,’ I muttered to myself, jamming what was left of my fingernails between the metal edges of the screen and the window frame as Alice’s wails grew louder. I’d done this once before, when Jenny and I locked ourselves out of a summer house we’d rented in the Hamptons that turned out to be about as glamorous as a student house in Leicester. We’d paid a fortune for a shithole but still had the best time. I wiped away a fresh run of tears with my upper arm as I focused on getting the screen out the window.

  ‘Fuck,’ I exclaimed as the nail on my middle finger bent then snapped. Ignoring the pain, I refused to let go of the screen, I was almost there, almost there … ‘Yes!’

  The screen popped and I tossed it on the floor behind me where it landed with a clatter. Now to work on the window. Our apartment was two floors of an old townhouse and, as far as I could tell, the windows hadn’t been replaced since it was built. The wooden frames swelled in winter and shrank in summer, providing natural climate control, but now, fat and heavy with the rain, it was almost impossible to get them to budge. My fingers filled with splinters as I forced the windowpane upwards, throwing my entire weight behind it, determined to get back inside. Finally, just as I was about to give up trying to open the window and simply put my forehead straight through the glass, I felt it give. It was just an inch but an inch was enough. I slid my fingers into the crack and shuffled the window upwards, side to side, up and down, shaking it loose as I went.

  ‘Mummy’s coming, Alice,’ I cooed as soon as I’d created enough room to get my head through the window. ‘Don’t cry, Mummy’s coming.’

  ‘Excuse me, Ma’am?’

  With my head and one arm through the window I glanced back under my armpit to see two of New York’s finest looking back at me. I made a mental note to tell Alex our alarm service was definitely worth the monthly expense and decided this was not a good time to tell them most women prefer ‘Miss’ to ‘Ma’am’.

  ‘Hello, Officers,’ I said as I shuffled back out through the window, propping it open with one of Alice’s board books and beaming happily. ‘This isn’t what it looks like.’

  ‘It never is, Ma’am,’ he replied, tucking his thumbs into his belt. Right next to his gun. ‘It never is.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  In the NYPD’s defence, this wasn’t my first run-in with them but it was the nicest. I never would have expected their training to cover hysterical women trying to break into their own homes but, within, fifteen minutes, we were all standing in my kitchen while the younger officer prepared a perfect brew and the older one happily bounced Alice up and down in the air, just like her dad. The contrary madam gurgled happily while I paced the living room on my phone, explaining the Jenny situation to Paige before the babysitters had to leave and fight actual crime. Predictably, Cici was ecstatic with the Précis drama.

  ‘She’s an actual demon,’ Paige whispered. ‘She’s literally refreshing your page over and over, watching the views and the comments rack up. I don’t know how I’m going to get it down.’

  ‘Can you replace it with a version that doesn’t have me destroying my friend’s life without her noticing?’ I suggested. ‘Paige, it’s got to come down.’

  ‘Agreed,’ she replied. ‘Précis is a big advertiser for Besson Media. Cici’ll change her tune if they pull all their money. We’ll both be for the chop then.’

  ‘Is there anyone I can’t get sacked?’ I groaned when Officer Russo appeared in the living room. ‘OK, got to run, text me when it’s done.’

  ‘I know I’ve apologized already but honestly, Angela, I’m so sorry. I was so desperate to get it done, I just didn’t think. But I’ll take care of it right now, I swear,’ she said before hanging up.

  ‘Uh, Ms Clark, we gotta go,’ the policeman said while Officer Dixon spoke into his radio. ‘Will everything be all right or would you like us to call your husband?’

  ‘Everything is fine,’ I replied as I hung up, wondering what exactly they thought Alex was going to do to improve my situation. ‘Thank you so much for your help.’

  ‘Hope you get things figured out with your pal,’ Officer Dixon said as I showed them to the front door, my keys held tightly in my hand, just in case.

  ‘Me too,’ I said, waving them away into the suddenly sunny afternoon. ‘Me too.’

  Turning back to Alice, safely smiling at me from her highchair, I wiped a filthy hand over my tear-stained face.

  ‘We should go and find Aunt Jenny,’ I said, planting my hands on my hips. ‘What do you say? Afternoon adventure in Brooklyn?’

  Alice opened her mouth and burbled until she arrived at something that sounded an awful lot like ‘No.’

  ‘I’m going to say that was not your first word.’ I grabbed the papoose from the coat rack and strapped it on over my coat, Alice muttering away to herself, knowing full well what this meant. ‘And I would appreciate a little more positivity from you, right now.’

  She blew a loud raspberry and yanked on my hair, protesting as I strapped her into the papoose. You never knew how she was going to react to the thing, sometimes she loved it and sometimes she tried to claw your eyes out if you so much as brought it into the room but, quite frankly, I was in a pickle and she was shit out of luck.

  ‘Please don’t cry,’ I crooned, slipping her little bear hat on top of her head and reaching for the closest baby bag which I greatly hoped was fully stocked. ‘We won’t be out long. Mummy just needs to talk to Aunt Erin then find Aunt Jenny and beg her forgiveness and then we’re going to see Daddy make music and then Mummy is going to sleep for three days. Deal?’

  She blinked back at me with huge, clear green eyes and farted.

  ‘Good enough,’ I re
plied, throwing the pink ear defenders Alex had bought into the baby bag just in case we didn’t have time to come back. ‘Let’s go.’

  By the time I reached the subway, Paige had the video down and somehow found me a direct phone number for Camilla Rose. Strangely enough, she didn’t answer my call and her voicemail cut me off three minutes into my grovelling apology but at least I was one down when I arrived at Erin’s house. I couldn’t have been more relieved that she was working from home and I didn’t have to go into the office. Jenny’s girls would have torn me limb from limb if I’d so much as tried to cross the threshold.

  And so I moved onto my next target.

  ‘I understand what you’re saying,’ Erin said with a frustrated sigh after my considerably-longer-than-three-minute apology. ‘But my hands are tied. There’s nothing either of us can do.’

  Defeated, my head drooped down towards Erin’s gorgeous rug. I’d paced back and forth so many times since I arrived, I was amazed the carpet wasn’t threadbare.

  ‘But it’s my fault,’ I argued, not ready to give in just yet. ‘Why is Jenny getting fired?’

  ‘Angela.’ She leaned forward across the desk in her home office, all the diamonds on her fingers glinting in the carefully designed lighting. ‘Even if you hadn’t included the part where the person supposedly in charge of promoting the waterproof mascara agreed that said waterproof mascara was the worst on the planet, I would still have had to fire her. Précis keeps the lights on at that place. Even when things are going well, they’re our biggest client and they pay on time. Do you know how many of those fashion brands we look after literally never pay their invoices? Not a week goes by when we aren’t sending out polite but threatening letters. Even if I can’t keep Camilla, I have to be seen to be doing something about this. Jenny understands.’

  ‘But she’s your friend,’ I said, refusing to be distracted by all of Erin’s beautiful things. A royal-blue tufted velvet chair, stunning floor-to-ceiling drapes that framed her view out into the West Village. The ornate, antique mirror on the far wall was easier to avoid, given the state of me. ‘There has to be another way.’

  ‘It’s for the best,’ Erin answered with her mind made up. ‘It was time for Jenny to move on. She only ever meant to work for me as a stop-gap. This could end up being the best thing that ever happened to her. And maybe me too.’

  ‘That’s the kind of thing people say when they’re trying to convince you a shitty thing is secretly brilliant,’ I replied, covering Alice’s ears when I swore. ‘Everyone knows it isn’t true.’

  ‘Then why do we have the saying, when god closes a door he opens a window?’ she asked.

  ‘Would you like me to tell you how much more difficult it is to get into a house through a window than it is through a door?’ I asked, holding up my bruised and broken hand. ‘Wait, what do you mean, it’s good for you too?’

  Erin sighed and picked a brazen bobble from her otherwise flawless ivory cashmere sweater. ‘I’m not going to London,’ she replied. ‘I’m going to stay here and run the company.’

  ‘You’re not going to London?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘What about Thomas?’

  ‘What about Thomas?’

  I really didn’t know what to say.

  ‘You can’t make someone stay if they don’t want to,’ she said, tripping lightly over her words. ‘And if I’m being entirely honest, I don’t want to stay either. Or rather, I don’t want to go. We’re taking a break for a while and we’ll see where we’re at after that.’

  ‘Erin, I’m so sorry,’ I said, finally walking over behind the desk and offering up an awkward Alice-in-the-middle hug. She took it gladly, albeit briefly, before sitting back down in her chair.

  ‘I can’t pretend you’re my favourite person on earth today,’ she said, sounding like a stern school ma’am. ‘But I appreciate what you’re trying to do. And I appreciate that mascara really is terrible.’

  ‘Is there any chance you can convince Camilla Rose not to fire you?’ I asked.

  Erin pinched her thumb and forefinger until they were almost touching.

  ‘The tiniest chance. She isn’t going to sue at least. I’m trying to convince her this is a good opportunity. We can say the press samples weren’t final quality product and get out in front of people to talk about the rest of the brand,’ she stopped to give me a pointed look. ‘And discuss the integrity of the media.’

  ‘If there’s anything I can do, just say the word,’ I said, picking up my phone and seeing a missed call from Paige. I’d asked her to let me know if she was able to get hold of Jenny since my best friend had blocked my number.

  ‘I’d say you’ve done more than enough,’ Erin assured me. ‘But thank you for the offer. If the “no publicity is bad publicity” line takes hold with her, I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Again, very, very, very beyond sorry,’ I said, scanning a text as it came in. ‘About all of it.’

  ‘It might not always feel like it but I do believe things usually work out for the best,’ she replied. ‘It always does, one way or another.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ I told her as I kissed her goodbye. ‘I’ll talk to you later.’

  ‘For sure,’ Erin replied. ‘And I absolutely get that you’re stressing out right now but can I at least give you a real jacket? You look like a drug addict from an episode of Law & Order.’

  ‘Thanks Erin,’ I replied, declining her offer as I raced out to find a taxi.

  Fully aware of the state of me, that was more or less a compliment.

  The on and off rain was very much on again as I pulled my hood up over my head and started down the street. No one could argue that the West Village wasn’t one of the most beautiful parts of New York but it certainly left a lot to be desired when it came to public transport. There were no useful subway lines anywhere near Erin’s townhouse, presumably because people who could afford townhouses could also afford town cars. Unfortunately, I was still in an apartment and beholden to the MTA. Thanks to the weather, there wasn’t a single taxi to be found and the Uber surcharge was so high, I was sure even Louisa had heard my shriek when I saw exactly how much they wanted to get me from one side of the city to the other.

  Paige had spoken to one of Jenny’s co-workers, who had spoken to Jenny and reported that she was going in to collect her things. Even though it felt like an impossibly stupid thing to do, I made my way from Erin’s house to the office. Because how could my walking into the office of a company I almost accidentally destroyed possibly go badly?

  ‘Thank god I brought you,’ I whispered to Alice, letting her squeeze my finger as tightly as she liked. As long as I was in pain, I knew the EWPR girls wouldn’t tear me limb from limb.

  Erin had kept the same offices for years, expanding to the floor upstairs as the company grew, and I’d spent almost as much time in here as I had in my own workplace. But, for the first time in a long time, I was afraid to go inside. Walking into reception with Alice face outwards in her papoose, I watched the receptionist’s face fall. Her blinding welcome smile turned into something altogether more threatening, somewhere between a snarl and a scowl, and nothing I ever wanted to see again.

  ‘Hi, Kaci,’ I said, waving Alice’s arms up and down in front of me. ‘Is Jenny here?’

  ‘No,’ she replied. ‘Because you got her fired.’

  ‘Right, should have expected that,’ I said. Slowly, the rest of the office seemed to sense my arrival and I saw them gathering, one by one, beyond the glass wall that led to the office proper. ‘Do you know where she is?’

  ‘Unemployment office?’ she snarked. ‘A homeless shelter? The gutter?’

  ‘OK, that one might be a bit much,’ I replied as the mass of women on the other side of the wall began to move all together. It was like something out of a very well-groomed zombie movie. ‘Just so you know, none of this was on purpose and I am trying to fix it so please don’t have a contract taken out on me or anything.’


  ‘Can’t make any promises,’ she said, her fingers clicking away on her keyboard. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck, why would I go and give her an idea like that? ‘Also, you’re banned from the office. Would you like me to show you the way out?’

  ‘I’ve got a baby with me.’ I pointed down at Alice and began to back away towards the front door. ‘If you see Jenny, please tell her I’m looking for her.’

  ‘Shan’t,’ she sang. ‘Please leave.’

  ‘Yes, fair enough,’ I mumbled as the glass door to the office began to creak open. ‘Nice to see you, speak soon.’

  I was back on the street before the torrent of abuse could reach little Alice’s delicate ears.

  ‘I wish I had a pair of ear defenders,’ I said, falling back out onto Lexington and moving quickly away from the building. I couldn’t imagine any of those women willingly walking outside in the rain but they were so loyal to Jenny, you never really knew. ‘OK, she’s not at work and I don’t think she’s in the gutter. Where next?’

  Alice looked up at me as though the answer were obvious.

  ‘Quite right,’ I agreed. ‘Got to be worth a try.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I let myself in to Jenny’s building through the back door, taking it as a good sign that she hadn’t changed the access code to her building. I smiled at the supposed security guard on reception on the way to the lifts and he waved at Alice, asking zero questions. I picked up her chunky little arm and waved back. No one worried about your intentions if you had a baby. If I’d tried trotting inside this building in the same state without a child attached to my body, I’d have been explaining myself to the cops for the second time in one day before I’d even crossed the threshold.

  By the time we made it up to Jenny and Mason’s floor, Alice was starting to get fidgety.

  ‘Give me half an hour,’ I begged her, switching the baby bag from one shoulder to the other, fighting the fatigue that was starting to pull on the edges of my already frayed nerves. ‘Half an hour to beg Aunt Jenny not to have us killed and then we’ll go home, have something to eat and go and see Daddy’s band. Then Mummy can google cilice belts, indulge in a little self-flagellation and everyone will be happy.’