“Sorry, hun, not at the moment.”
“Oh, well do you know anyone who does? I got home from Canada today to find my flat empty. Landlord’s renovating. I have to be out by the fifth.”
“Well, I do have a small room we use as an office. I guess we could move out the computer and you can stay in there if you’re really desperate.”
“I am, I am very, very desperate. Duncan, that would be amazing.”
“Wait till you see how small it is.”
I finished my eggs benedict as quickly as I could and rushed over to his place around the corner on Redcliffe Gardens. It was a beautiful Victorian building with a black and white checkered doorstep. The buttons were listed A-E and I pushed Flat C. Duncan buzzed me in.
The flat was immaculate. White plush carpet and modern fixtures on everything, high-powered gays definitely lived here. Duncan greeted me at the door with a big hug and a sympathetic smile. Evidently, I looked like a homeless puppy.
He showed me the room. Or I should say, glorified closet. He wasn’t kidding. It contained a small desk and shelves for storage. I was fairly certain that if I stood in the middle of the room I could touch opposite walls; keep in mind that in many countries I’m considered a midget.
“Are you sure a bed would even fit in there?”
“Positive. When I got this from the estate agent they were advertising it as a three-bedroom flat.”
“It’s clearly not.”
“I know, which is why I managed to negotiate down to a two-bed rate. Either way, we literally just use it for storage, and there is a small cupboard space near the front door. We can move the boxes in there and I’ll move the computer desk into my room. It’s yours if you want it.”
Here came the awkward part: “How much do you want for rent?” The sad part was, in this location Duncan could easily get seven hundred a month for that room.
“Nothing, Paige. You’ve had shit luck since you’ve been here. I feel like you need a break.”
“Duncan, that’s amazing, but I have to give you something.”
“Well, darling, you do go to some fabulous parties. Take me every once in a while and we’re even.”
“Deal.”
Elated, I ran back home to start packing. I couldn’t wait to get out of my flat! Half an hour into my mission, I hadn’t even made a dent and I needed to get ready for the Fashionista party. Not to mention I still didn’t have a bed for the room at Duncan’s. Apparently there was going to be one more night on Finborough Road. I tried to look at it nostalgically: I’d spent one of the hardest years of my life here and despite everything, had an amazing time.
My red satin strapless gown was hanging from my wardrobe door. Emma said the event was strictly black tie and I found this BCBG dress for 80% off at home. Turns out, people in Edmonton aren’t in regular need of floor-length gowns with a sweetheart neckline and thigh-high slit. Best hundred bucks I ever spent.
Walking out of the house I felt like a real star with my exaggerated side part and dramatic makeup. There was nothing that was going to stop me from having one last good night this year.
Carlos was waiting for me outside with the car that we were able to expense. It was a work event, after all.
“I would totally shag you if I liked girls.”
“Thanks, Carlos, you’re so sweet.”
When we pulled up to the red carpet it was lined with photographers and the flashing was supplemented with strobe lights. They wanted to make everyone feel like a superstar when they arrived. For the first time I was relaxed as I posed with Carlos and felt like a seasoned pro, and then it dawned on me that I was. My naïveté had worn off over the year. Emma waved us in from the door.
“Paige, I’d like you to meet William Wilde, he’s the lead singer for a band … what is it called again, Wills?” She tossed her head back and laughed, trying to act nonchalant and about twenty-one, but it was very obvious that not only did she know that band’s name, she was probably president of their fan club (and clearly leaning towards fifty).
“Hunter.”
“Like the boots?” He was very cute AND laughed at my joke. Slowly, slowly Paige …
“Ya, like the ‘boot.’” He had a thick Irish accent and tried to mimic mine when he said “boot.” Very sexy.
A photographer came by. Wills moved to stand next to me and I wedged Carlos between us, who didn’t seem to mind in the least. Being photographed with the hot lead singer of a band wasn’t exactly the most discreet way to start a new year.
“I see you’ve done this before.” He was speaking and smiling for the camera at the same time.
“This ain’t my first rodeo.” I said in a fake Western accent and winked at him as the photo opportunity disbanded. The wink probably would have sufficed.
Carlos tried to wander towards Louis. Their on and off again relationship was apparently in limbo so we were supposed to go near enough to spy but not be seen. Balloons with streamers hung from the ceilings and an over-enthusiastic intern cut one ribbon a bit too long and it stuck stubbornly to the gloss on my upper lip. I tried to discreetly blow it away, managing to only get it stuck to my bottom lip as well. Carlos realized I wasn’t right behind him and came back to either mock me or help me. My money was on the former.
“You are such a hot mess.”
“No, not tonight.” I ripped down the balloon and popped it. Everyone turned suddenly. “Oops … ” I laughed uncomfortably. People now thought I either had anger issues, the maturity level of a four-year-old, or was a complete moron. At this point, all three of them were true.
“Paige, sometimes I find you exhausting. But I love that about you.” Carlos laughed and grabbed my arm. We hid behind a plant and I walked out to check if I could see him hiding.
“Your diet is totes working! I couldn’t see you at all. Seriously,” I told him when I got back from my recce. Carlos was beaming.
“Getting skinny is the new revenge sex.”
I tried to keep my bubbles to a minimum so as not to repeat The Incident that started this thing I’ve called my life for the last year.
I walked the room with Carlos as my security blanket. For some reason, I felt untouchable with him. We bumped into Wills again and I didn’t recognize the people he was with. Apparently I should have.
“Paige Crawford, did you lose my number?” A tall muscular guy was grinning at me like we’d slept together before, but I was very sure we hadn’t.
“Sorry.” How to not sound rude? “Do I know you?” Carlos elbowed me.
“Charlie Newton?”
For reals? The rugby player?
“Sorry, I didn’t recognize you. How have you been?” I said, trying to be polite because I didn’t want Wills to think I was an asshole.
“I’d be better if you gave me a call.” He winked. It gave me heartburn.
“That … ” I was so sick of playing this game. “That is not going to happen.”
I stood my ground; if anyone was leaving this conversation, it was going to be him. The collective group stared and the silence lasted several seconds before he bowed out. Paige 1 – London Jerks 0. It was scenes like this that celebrities probably get their reputations from. Gossip without sources bothering to find out what transpired before the cattiness.
Carlos squeezed my arm when Charlie left and whispered in my ear. “A few more of those decisions and you will have a great year.”
Emma immediately filled the space left by Charlie, seizing her chance to be next to Wills. She would clearly fire me if I hooked up with him. But that was fine because did I really need to get involved with some Irish lead singer? Ye—probably not.
“I’m sorry, Emma, Wills, you’ll have to excuse Carlos and I. A girl’s got to eat.” I dragged Carlos to the buffet table and found something to line my stomach without giving me a food baby. Two fantastic decisions in one. New Paige, I like you.
We wandered a little more until one of the identical interns found me.
“Paige,
it’s almost midnight! Who are you going to kiss?” She squealed like a schoolgirl, but that’s probably because she was a schoolgirl. I turned to my left and rolled my eyes at Carlos, except he wasn’t there. Wills was. Carlos left and was hovering within kissing distance of Louis.
“Are you ok?” Wills asked.
Ugh. I probably looked like I was having a seizure. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t expect to see you there, thought you were Carlos.” I could feel myself blush and willed it to go down. It didn’t.
“So, Paige, are you going to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I haven’t!”
“Maybe just a wee bit?”
I giggled at the word wee. The champagne I’d been drinking all night made him sound more like the leprechaun in the Lucky Charms commercial than Colin Farrell.
“I’m starting my first New Year’s resolution tonight: stay away from trouble.” I tried to stay firm in my convictions but a flirty smile snuck in at the end.
“You think I’m trouble, do ya?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Of course you are trouble, and don’t pretend you don’t know that.”
“Anyone can be trouble for the wrong person, but for the right one, well, maybe they are perfect.” He was staring intensely into my eyes, which made me uncomfortable, but in kind of a hot way.
The atmosphere in the room lifted significantly. It was one minute until midnight and my heart was racing. There was so much on the line if I kissed him, but butterflies don’t lie and I hadn’t felt this in a while.
The countdown started.
10
I fidgeted with my glass.
9
He looked down at my fidgeting and smiled. I didn’t like him knowing I was nervous.
8
I took a mini sip of champagne. My mouth felt like it was filling with cobwebs.
7
He took a step forward.
6
I took half a step back.
5
He glanced quickly to my left and then back at me.
4
I scanned my immediate area for Emma.
3
The room seemed to go silent.
2
He went to grab my waist.
1
I was hurled to the side and kissed passionately by someone with a five o’clock shadow.
I pulled away as fast as I could. It was Carlos.
“What the hell?”
“Sorry, doll, couldn’t let you break your resolution two seconds into the New Year.”
I started to laugh. “I seriously love you!” I grabbed his face and kissed him again, this time on the cheek.
Wills was still standing next to me, understandably confused.
“Sorry, mate, had to rescue my damsel in distress from herself. She’s free to make bad decisions again after Chinese New Year.”
This was his test.
“Well, Paige, can I take you to dinner tomorrow?” He looked at Carlos. “Chinese food, perhaps?”
Carlos whispered into my ear. “Never say yes the first time a guy asks you out. If he really wants to see you, he will ask again, and if he doesn’t then count yourself lucky that you didn’t go in the first place. Trust me.”
I sighed. Carlos was right. I’m not a hard person to find; if he wants me, he’ll come back.
“Sorry, as much as I hate to say this, my resolution sticks. The answer is no.”
Wills laughed quickly in disbelief, and then smiled.
“I like a challenge. See you in a few weeks, Crawford.”
Emma approached with Gisele as Wills walked away.
“New Year’s kiss, Paige?” Emma had a snide tone to her voice.
“Nope, cupid over here made sure of that.” I linked arms with Carlos.
“Glad to see you are enjoying the party, Paige.” Gisele was being polite and was about to excuse herself.
“Oh, Gisele.” What was I doing? “I think I have another idea for a feature. Actually, I think it could be a regular column. Maybe I could conduct an experiment where I enter the dating world but never say yes the first time I get asked out to see if that really does get you a more quality guy.” Umm yup, I was trying to pitch the idea Carlos just gave me in front of him to Gisele in front of my boss. “Well, actually Carlos just gave me the idea, and I think it might work. Maybe we could test out readers’ tips as well? By the end of it we could have Fashionista’s Guaranteed Get Him Tips. If nothing else, I’m sure I’ll embarrass myself and it will be funny.”
An expressionless Gisele looked at me for what felt like several minutes.
“Did you just turn down Wills?” She sounded interested. Maybe the lack of expression was Botox-induced?
“Yes she did, and he said he liked a challenge. He’s definitely asking her out again.” Carlos thought this would be the optimal time to butt in. Emma did not look pleased.
“Well, Paige, this could work. Think of a few more steadfast rules you’ll stick by and we might have something. But, one more rule: you have to follow the rules until he stops. Which means you have to say yes to anyone who asks you out twice. Should add some humor.” She directed the last line to Emma, speaking about me as if I wasn’t in the room, but some lab rat. I was actually ok with that as long as it got me a regular article in Fashionista. And maybe I would have some fun along the way. At the very least I could blame my dating disasters on research.
It was three by the time Carlos and I left.
“I could murder a kebab right now.”
“So not part of my diet,” lamented Carlos as we had the taxi stop at the kebab shop on Earls Court Road. The place was packed.
“Two kebabs please, everything on them,” I slurred to the man in the little paper hat.
“Food poisoning on the side please,” added Carlos.
I leaned against the glass on the outside of the shop as I simultaneously ate the worst and best tasting thing of my life. Carlos was laughing at me.
“You have lettuce in your hair.”
“And I’m still out of your league.” Now I was laughing. Sauce dripped down my coat.
One of the paper hat guys from behind the counter joined us outside to have his cigarette.
“You like?” He indicated to the kebab he’d made me.
“It’s delicious.” I smiled too much; there was probably cilantro in my teeth.
“I’m going to recommend you for a Michelin star.” Carlos flopped his arm on the guy’s shoulder.
“Miss, you are very pretty, do you have a boyfriend?”
“No, she doesn’t.” My madame answered for me.
“Miss, can I take you on a date?”
“No, I don’t think so,” I answered politely.
“She never says yes the first time, it’s a rule. You have to ask her twice,” laughed Carlos.
I started to walk away, this wasn’t going to end well for me.
“Miss! Miss! May I take you out, please?”
By then I was running in my heels down Earls Court Road. I turned the corner onto Brompton Road and was suddenly facedown on the pavement. Carlos rushed up behind me.
“Wow, you really are clumsy. Have you thought about getting your head checked?” My look indicated I wasn’t in the mood for his cuteness. “No, I mean your ears to check if your balance is ok. I honestly have never met anyone who falls as much as you.”
“In my country we have cement, so people don’t tend to trip over five-thousand-year-old cobblestones. My falling isn’t the issue, it’s a symptom of your shitty roads.”
“There aren’t any cobblestones here, Paige. It probably had more to do with you running down the street in six-inch heels absolutely leathered.”
I got up and my knee really hurt, it was skinned badly and I was bleeding. My left shoe was stuck in a crack in the sidewalk. Carlos tried to pull it out and the heel broke off.
“At least you didn’t rip your dress,” he said, trying to find a bright side in the wreck that was my lif
e. But, I found a small hole in the red chiffon near the knee, masked by blood.
Limping on the way to my flat, we stopped at the twenty-four hour pharmacy and bought a mini first aid kit, not knowing what medical attention I would need. Once in the house, Carlos cleaned me up and then dragged a mattress from the other room and jammed it into the corner of mine.
“Happy Fucking New Year,” I mumbled as I passed out holding onto the heel of my broken shoe.
The next day, Carlos literally carried me to lunch at Balans. We were half an hour late meeting Lucinda because Carlos and I were fighting over my possibly broken leg. He argued I should go to the hospital to make sure I wasn’t doing any permanent damage to my swollen, scraped, and generally disgusting knee. I told him to get lost and that the only way I was entering a hospital was unwillingly and sedated. It went back and forth like that until I got a shitty text from Lucinda refusing to drink a third mimosa on her own. Fair enough.
So here we were, hungover, bruised but happy that neither of us had made too many bad decisions last night. I still maintain that my fall was libel and Chelsea council would be hearing from my lawyer soon. Carlos told me to be quiet and that I was lucky not to be arrested for disorderly conduct.
“And, by the way, you still have lettuce and kebab sauce in your hair.”
“Umm, how about we list that under things Carlos could have told me before we left the house. Jerk.”
“Trust me honey, nobody is looking at your hair.” He raised an eyebrow as I attempted to dismount the piggyback ride and hobble with my dignity into the restaurant. I pretty much failed.
Lucinda had one and a half mimosas waiting for us.
“You took forever so I drank some of yours. I don’t want to hear about it.”
“No argument here,” I said as I pushed the half full champagne flute her way. Another glass arrived in front of me.
“So when do we move you, Cinderella?” asked Lucinda. “And buy you a pair of shoes you can walk in? I heard you’re one stiletto down.”
“Duncan said I can move into his closet tomorrow and I plan on hitting the Manolo Blahnik sale next week.”
“Ooh, I can’t wait to meet this Duncan. Anyone with a closet big enough to be a bedroom can be friends with me,” teased Carlos.
The Accidental Socialite Page 23