“It’s not that amazing. Although, it is pretty exciting getting to work where they film MultiDate.”
“I know. I’m so happy for you, babe. You deserve a break.”
I lean over and hug her. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“How’s Bree doing?”
“Bree’s doing fine,” Bree says, standing in the doorway, watching us.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I was talking behind your back.”
“Don’t worry. Everyone does,” she drawls.
“Bree…” Katie warns.
“What? I know you’re always whispering about me on the phone to Mum and Dad.”
“I’m not whispering. And we’re not saying anything malicious. We just want to make sure you’re looked after and we’re doing everything we can to support you.”
“Whatever.”
“Hey, come on,” I say to Bree. “Your sister is just trying to help.”
“Don’t worry, Lauren. It’s fine,” Katie assures me.
“Screw you, Lauren,” Bree snaps. “You can’t just come in here and act like you know what’s going on.”
“Hey! That’s not fair. I had to move out because of you.”
Bree stares at Katie. “You said she was moving out anyway.”
Katie holds her hands up, caught out. “I just didn’t want to cause any extra drama.”
Bree snatches up a bag on the side table and storms out. “I hate being fucking lied to,” she spits over her shoulder.
I don’t know what to say or do.
“I wish you hadn’t said that,” Katie says softly.
“But you didn’t tell me!” I protest. “If you were going to lie, you should have given me a heads up. And for the record, it was a bit sucky that you took away every single trace of my existence the second I left. I haven’t even been gone two weeks! And I was still paying rent!”
Katie stands up and picks up her keys. “I can’t deal with this right now. I have to go after Bree.”
She leaves me sitting there, staring at the door.
Well, this hasn’t exactly gone according to plan.
What am I supposed to do now? My wrist is hurting, but I don’t want to take any more painkillers tonight. I go to the linen cupboard and pull out a blanket, pillow and pillow case. Katie will just have to deal with me using her stuff, since she packed all mine in the garage. There’s no way I’m sharing a bed with her tonight.
As I stuff the pillow into its case, I get angrier and angrier. How dare Katie make me feel bad about this whole situation! I haven’t done anything wrong! She’s the one who lied to her sister about me wanting to move out. I’m not sure our friendship can recover from something like that.
I quickly brush my teeth and lay the blanket on the couch, folding it in half and tucking myself the middle. I roll over and close my eyes. I’m not going to open them again until morning.
***
Jesus. What time is it?
I’m jolted awake by the sound of a blender. It’s still dark outside. I sit up and look over at the kitchen. Bree is standing at the bench making some sort of smoothie.
“Isn’t it a bit early for that?” I grumble.
“I have a meeting this morning,” she says defensively. “Katie insisted we go to this stupid place that uses some sort of crap psychology, but it’s near the Gold Coast, so we have to leave soon.”
“Oh. So Katie’s going with you?”
“Yup.”
I wonder if this was always the plan. If Katie had booked a trip to Sydney, I would have told her if I wasn’t able to spend any time with her. Not to mention all the other stuff she somehow forgot to tell me. I’m still annoyed after last night, but even more so now.
“Where is Katie?” I ask, looking around.
“I don’t know. Probably getting dressed.”
“I’ll need to get her to show me where all my stuff is.”
“I think she can manage that.”
“Hey, there’s no need to be snarky.”
“Ooh, I’m sorry. Have I hurt your feelings?”
“Actually, yes. Shouldn’t you be doing some sort of twelve-step thing where you try to be nice to people?”
“I guess I haven’t gotten to that part yet,” she says sarcastically.
I lie back down and pull the blanket over my head. I can’t handle this.
I stay under there until I hear Katie’s voice. I sit up again. “Hey. Could you quickly show me where you put my things before you go out?”
She doesn’t make eye contact. “Uh, yeah. Just give me a minute.”
I want to cry. This all feels so unfair.
I hear the girls whispering to each other. I wonder what I’ve done now to justify a gossip session.
After a moment, Katie clears her throat. “Uh, I’ll show you now.”
I follow her sullenly down into the garage. There are six boxes, all stacked neatly and taped up, labelled with their contents. I have to admit, I’m a tiny bit relieved that I don’t have to do any of the packing, especially with my wrist the way it is. I should cut Katie a break.
“Thanks for doing that,” I offer.
“No worries. And look, I’m sorry about how this has all turned out. I’m just stressed about looking after Bree. It’s much harder than I expected.”
“It’s all right. You should have told me, though. I could have gone along with whatever you wanted me to say.”
“I know. Anyway, we have to leave in about twenty minutes, but I’ll try and get back before you leave.”
“Don’t worry if it’s going to be cutting it fine. I’m flying out at six, but I’ll need to hire a van and return it beforehand.”
“I promise I’ll be home by 3pm, or I’ll text you to let you know what’s happening.”
“Okay.”
Katie smiles at me sadly. “I guess we should go back up. Do you still have your key?”
“I thought I did, but I couldn’t find it last night. I’ll have another look before you go.”
“Cool. Let me know if you need a spare.”
I follow Katie back upstairs. I empty the contents of my handbag onto the floor and find my key right at the bottom, so at least I don’t need to borrow another one. Then, to keep out of Bree’s way, I lock myself in Katie’s bathroom and take my time showering and washing my hair.
Just as I’m finishing up, I hear a tap on the door.
“Lauren? We’re going now. I’ll see you later?”
“Sure.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I want to put some enthusiasm into my tone, but I can’t. Things don’t feel quite right between me and Katie.
I hear the front door close, and finally go back out into the living room. It’s the first time I’ve felt even remotely relaxed since I arrived. If I close the door to Bree’s room, I can pretend for a moment that I never left. As long as I don’t look around too closely.
I haven’t booked a moving truck yet, but I’m not even sure I need one, considering I only have six boxes. I go online and find a people mover instead. I can pick it up from a place down the road and return it to the airport later. That should be more than enough for my needs.
I glance at the time. It’s still only 7am. I didn’t really have anything specific I wanted to do with Katie, but with nothing to pack and no one to hang out with, the whole day looms over me like a big empty void.
I almost have time to drive up to the Sunshine Coast, but I don’t really want to see my family. I’m still mad at Mum and Dad, and I’m not in the mood to talk to the twins. I know I’ll just get into an argument with them in my current state of mind.
I think I’ll head into the city and wander around. A bit of window shopping and some lunch at Harajuku Gyoza will relax me.
I need to avoid talking to people for a while.
FIFTEEN
I pick up the people mover at 2pm and pack everything inside. The whole endeavour tak
es me less than an hour, even carrying the boxes at an awkward angle so I don’t injure my wrist further. I flop back down on the couch and await Katie’s return. Over the past few hours, I’ve cooled down a little and I’ve decided our history can’t be written off because of a few misunderstandings.
I even bought her a scented candle while I was out. It’s coconut and lime scented, because I know Katie loves everything tropical.
Three arrives, and I’m still sitting, waiting for her to walk back through the door. Or at least call. But by three thirty, I haven’t heard anything. I’m not sure how much later I can leave it before going to the airport. If we’re flying out at six and I’m following usual domestic flight rules, I’m supposed to check in two hours beforehand.
By three forty-five, I finally give up. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as I take one last look at the apartment, knowing I’ll never step foot in here again. Not even as a guest. I leave my key on the kitchen counter, along with the candle, and pull the front door locked behind me for the last time.
The drive to the airport is horrible. The traffic isn’t too bad, but I’ve fallen into a well of self-pity. I know Katie has a lot on her plate with Bree, but I would have thought she’d be able to spare two minutes to text me.
I soon arrive back where I left Patrick last night. I can’t believe that was less than twenty-four hours ago. A guy in a suit is sitting just inside the door and stands when I walk in.
“Ms. Hunter?”
“Yes?”
“Mr. James asked for me to assist you with your boxes.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you. They’re just in the van out the front.”
“Is that a rental?”
“Yes.”
“Would you like me to return it for you?”
“No, no. That’s fine. I can do it myself.”
“Mr. James instructed me to help you in whatever way you needed.”
“Well, I guess it depends on whether I’m late to check in or not.”
“You’re not late. But the lounge is open and you’re welcome to enjoy a complimentary drink or snack before the flight.”
I waver. It would be so nice to indulge in a little TLC right now.
“Go on,” he urges, seeing my indecision. “I’ll take care of everything.”
“Thank you,” I say gratefully. “It’s been a bit of a crazy day.”
“If I see Mr. James, I’ll let him know you’ve arrived.”
“Thanks. Again.”
I go in search of the lounge, feeling a little better. I enter a small private room, where the carpet is thick and bouncy, and everyone talks in soft voices.
“Good evening, ma’am. Would you like some champagne?”
I smile at the woman behind the bar. “Yes, please.”
She pours me a glass and hands it over. “Compliments of Mr. James.”
“Thank you.”
“We also have snacks over in the corner with fresh fruit and muffins. Or if you want something a little more substantial, our chef can prepare you a dish from the menu here.” She points to a card propped up on the counter.
“I think the champagne is enough for now. But thanks.”
I sit down near the window looking out onto the runway and force myself to forget about Katie. I’m heading back to my new life now. The improved version, where I’m working in a great job.
But I can’t help comparing my past and present roommates. At least I know where I stand with Finn. We haven’t talked much since last weekend when he helped me move my stuff, but even his polite standoffishness is preferable to my relationship with Katie right now.
I sip my champagne, savouring the tangy fizz as it slides down my throat. Oh, that’s good.
I have a little while to wait, so I open Amazon on my phone and look up the book I saw on Finn’s bookshelf. It’s by an author called Haruki Murakami. Why have I never heard of him before? I’m not a huge reader, but I like to think I’m slightly above average when it comes to book knowledge. I download one of his other titles, a strange sounding novel called A Wild Sheep Chase, and settle in to wait for Patrick.
I’m not sure how much times passes, but suddenly my phone buzzes. Maybe it’s Patrick, telling me he’s on his way.
It’s Katie.
Sorry, hon. Got held up. Call me later?
Pfft. She got held up? What kind of excuse is that? Couldn’t she at least elaborate a little? And also, no. I am not going to go out of my way to call her. She can call me if she really wants to talk to me. I can’t believe she didn’t even mention the candle.
I must be scowling, because I hear an amused voice walking up beside me. “Tough day?”
I hastily fix my features into one of appreciation. “Sorry. I was just reading a frustrating text message. By the way, I want to thank you again for sorting this all out for me. Your staff have been super helpful.”
“I’m glad to hear it. So everything went smoothly?”
“Mostly. Just a small issue with my old roommate. But it doesn’t matter.” I down the rest of my champagne and stand up. “Are we going?”
“Yep. We’ll just need to get clearance and we’ll be on our way.”
“How was your meeting?”
“Boring. But it achieved its objective.”
“That’s good to hear.”
The same woman who led us to the plane last night appears. “Mr. James, Ms. Hunter, you’re welcome to board at any time. And I was told to pass on the message that Ms. Hunter’s boxes have been stowed.”
“Excellent.” Patrick waves an arm for me to go ahead. I oblige.
“I want to apologise again for last night,” I say over my shoulder.
“No need. How’s your wrist?”
“It’s much better. I’m not sure I’ll be taking any more of those painkillers, though. At least not until I get home and I’m in bed.”
Patrick doesn’t respond. I hope he’s not offended that I don’t want to take the medication his doctor prescribed.
When we enter the cabin, I take a proper look around. I really can’t believe I fell asleep last night. This plane is like something out of a movie. In the main cabin, a leather couch runs along one wall. A huge flat screen is mounted on the other, and there are several single recliners scattered around the place that look like they go all the way back. A bottle of wine and two glasses have been left on a small table in front of the couch. Patrick pours us a glass each and hands one to me. He then sits in one of the single seats and does up his seatbelt. I’m not quite sure where he expects me to sit, so I choose the one opposite, which means we’re facing each other.
He holds up his glass. “Cheers.”
I copy his gesture. “Cheers.”
“Tell me why you left Brisbane.”
“Oh, well, I hadn’t intended to leave the city permanently. I was taking a break in Sydney with my brother when I sort of stumbled upon the job at the studio.”
“What happened at the phone store?”
“Cam had been there longer than me, and they couldn’t afford to keep on two salespeople.”
He shakes his head. “Idiots. They clearly let the wrong person leave. But their loss is my gain.”
I smile. I’m not used to people complimenting my work. Mum and Dad never praised anything I did for them. It was always about what I could have done better. “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from the head of NBS.”
“I say it how it is.”
“I try to as well.”
“I hope you’ll extend that courtesy when talking to me. No one else at the studio has the guts.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I suppose they think I’d get annoyed or angry. To be honest, I hate all that pandering bullshit. I want people to be upfront.”
“Even if it’s something you don’t want to hear?”
“Yes. But because it never happens, I’ll have to get back to you on how I actually handle the situation, should it occur.”
“I don’t like cr
itical feedback. I mean, I know it has to happen sometimes, but it depends on how it’s delivered. Most people don’t know how to give it.”
He studies me intently. “And what do you think is the best way to deliver critical feedback?”
“Using the compliment sandwich. Although, calling it a compliment sandwich doesn’t make sense, because the idea is that you start with a compliment, then follow it with the bad news, and end with another compliment. So technically, the compliment is the bread, and you don’t call it a bread sandwich.”
He laughs delightedly. “I love it. So what would you call it, then? The crap sandwich?”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I guess so.”
The plane starts to move and we get ready for take-off. Patrick continues to watch me, but doesn’t say anything as we become airborne. I can’t figure him out. Does he stare at everyone like that?
And what would I do if he didn’t? I’ve already had this hypothetical conversation with myself. He’s too old for me. And he’s my boss.
He finally speaks again. “Are you annoyed about leaving the phone store?”
“Not really. It definitely wasn’t my dream job.”
“What is your dream job?”
“Oh…” I blush. I don’t want him to think I’m being a suck-up.
“What?”
“I promise I’m not just saying this, but working with Jules is already one of the best things I’ve ever done. I guess down the track, I’d also like to work in the studio. Preferably on MultiDate.”
He nods. “That’s good. I’m glad you’re enjoying your new job. What would you want to do in the studio?”
I smile sheepishly. “I don’t know yet. I just love the show, so I want to be a part of it.”
He rubs his hand thoughtfully across his face. “What do you like about it?”
“Watching all those people fall in love,” I say simply.
“Not all the associated drama?”
I shake my head. “To be honest, that’s the worst part of the show. I hate when it’s obvious the producers are trying to stir things up when they don’t have enough material. You know, like when they bring in someone’s ex and have them try to win back one of the contestants. Or when it seems like a producer has fed information to one of the contestants to fire someone else up. And all those ‘villains’? Whoever does the editing for them is trying way too hard.”
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