Air Kisses

by Zoe Foster

  When I walked into the restaurant, which was gleaming in the morning sunshine, its glass walls reflecting the bay foreshore, I couldn’t see Dec or Fi or Gabe or Yasmin anywhere. The only person I could see was Jill, and there was no chance I would be chatting to her. As I’d never met the PR before, I didn’t know who to find, and so I sauntered over to make myself a cup of tea.

  The beauty girls, whose chirpiness wasn’t even diluted by the obscene time of day, surrounded me as I stirred my tea. I enjoyed the warmth of the sun on my back, the fragrance of tuberose gently scenting the room, and the delicious food being handed around by waiting staff with cosmetically whitened smiles.

  ‘Mmm. What’s that you’re drinking?’ Fi had arrived and was peering over my shoulder.

  ‘English breakfast. What’s yours?’ Her tea was a red colour and there were suspicious bits floating around in it.

  ‘Some hippie tea they’re handing around. Foul. Of course, you haven’t got a Hindu’s chance in heaven of getting an espresso round here. Even though it’s the crack of dawn. Honestly.’ She shook her head and took another sip, scrunching up her nose as she swallowed.

  ‘How weird is it having men here?’ She was referring to the five or so men who awkwardly mingled with the beauty pack. ‘Ooh, he’s cute.’

  I followed her gaze to see Dec and, I presumed, Chris walking in.

  ‘Dec!’ I said happily.

  ‘You know him?’ Fi looked at me in amazement.

  ‘He’s my best friend’s older brother. Lovely, lovely guy…’

  ‘Are you blushing? You’re blushing!’

  This was becoming boring. ‘No I’m not. Shut up. I’m just happy to see him.’

  ‘Apparently you are,’ she said slyly.

  Yasmin appeared from nowhere, clanging with bracelets and charms.

  ‘Any espresso?’

  ‘Nope, just tea. Fiona’s really enjoying it…’

  But Fi had gone.

  ‘Starving too – any good food? Please tell me there’s bacon of some description… Oh, look: horse doors. Finally.’ Yasmin was clearly famished, and had spied some miniature food on a tray coming our way.

  A cute young guy with an urban mohawk presented us with a tray of salmon and cream cheese on mini brioche bagels. The smell alone made me want to vomit – I couldn’t handle fish sandwiches in the morning, no matter how hungry I was. It was just wrong.

  ‘Can I get you a drink, madam?’ Mohawk’s eyes twinkled as he looked at me, holding his silver tray out for Yasmin to attack and destroy.

  ‘Um, what do you have?’

  ‘The drinks menu is just there on that board… I highly recommend the pomegranate and rosehip tea.’

  I decided on a fierce forest-berry cocktail – I liked the idea of menacing fruit.

  ‘Certainly, madam, anything else? We have vegetarian options for breakfast. Shall I bring some to you?’

  Again, his eyes twinkled as he spoke. Was he flirting? Bizarre.

  ‘Um, yes please. That’d be great.’

  ‘As you wish.’

  He spun around dramatically and disappeared into the mass of people. I saw Fi’s face bob up in the crowd, and was surprised to see it was next to Dec’s. She was flicking her hair and smiling, and he was smiling back as they spoke.

  Was she flirting with Dec? I watched her long enough to see her tuck her hair behind her ear eleven times in thirty seconds, and laugh hysterically at everything Dec said, and surmised that yes, she most certainly was flirting. When women play with their hair, show off their neck and laugh at nothing, they are hunting.

  I felt a pang of jealousy. Why would she do that? Why would he do that, knowing I was here?

  Gabe’s voice cut in. ‘Hannah, that mischievous young man with the stupid hair wants to ravish you.’

  ‘Gabe! Look, everyone, his royal gayness has graced us with his presence.’

  ‘Hey, Gabe.’ Yasmin kissed him on the cheek, not stopping to finish her mouthful first. ‘Who wants to ravish Han?’

  ‘The waiter! Wants to pour honey all over her and lick it off, from the way he’s carrying on!’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t notice. Hair was kind of cool, though.’

  Gabe stared at me with one brow cocked. ‘What’s with you? You’re all vagued out. Do you need to eat? Let’s get you some food.’

  ‘Okay…’ I followed his lead to the kitchen area, where we liked to intercept the waiters as they left the food preparation area. I was confused. What was Fi’s caper? Latching on to Dec like that, knowing I clearly thought he was…what? Where was I heading with this? I was confused at my jealousy and tried to shake it off.

  ‘So, um, see that guy in the navy top?’ I steered Gabe towards Dec’s direction. ‘That’s Dec.’

  ‘The Dec?’ Gabe looked at me wide-eyed. I nodded, mouth closed. ‘He’s so Polo Ralph Lauren it’s disturbing. Are you sure he’s into girls? I could make him a very happy husband. What’s Fiona doing draped all over him like a cheap throw on an expensive sofa?’

  ‘Who knows. She spotted him the second he came in and beelined for him not long after.’

  ‘Silly girl, she has no chance with you around, but it’s entertaining to watch her try. Have you spoken to him yet?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Why not…? Oops! No matter, he’s on his way over now!’

  I saw Dec apologising to Fiona and making his way over to Gabe and me. I nervously fluffed my flat hair and quickly dabbed on some gloss I’d left in the external pocket of my handbag for these exact situations.

  Gabe murmured from behind closed lips, ‘You look good enough to dollop on ice-cream, beauty. Don’t change a thing.’

  ‘G’morning, Hannah. You look radiant, even in a sea of similarly well-dressed women.’ Dec pecked me on the cheek while Gabe made fluttering, fainting motions behind him.

  ‘Hi, Dec, this is my friend Gabe—’

  ‘Pleasure to meet you.’

  I was nervous in Dec’s presence. It felt strange having him enter my world, and to have everyone checking him out so openly, Gabe included.

  ‘So what brings you into the land of lipstick and lilac shadow, Dec?’ Gabe asked. He was digging his index finger into my back so hard I wanted to elbow him violently in the ribs.

  ‘Oh, well, I’m actually here with—’

  ‘Good morning, everyone. If we could please ask you to take your seats, as the presentation is about to begin. Thank you!’

  I sprang into nervous energy-fuelled action. ‘Oh, gosh, well, um, Dec – Gabe, you and I are on the table near the podium, I checked earlier; I didn’t see your name there, Dec, but we can help you find your seat?’

  Secretly I was cursing that he wasn’t on our table. At least I had Gabe. And really, as long as Dec was nowhere near Fiona’s batting lashes, I didn’t mind.

  ‘I need a coffee before this things starts, nice to meet you, Dec.’ Gabe scurried off, leaving the two of us alone.

  I spotted Fi staring over at us from across the room. I had a memory-flash of how scary she had been when I’d first met her.

  ‘Thank you so much for your help with Iz, Dec. You went above and beyond brotherly duty.’

  ‘Oh Hannah.’ He looked at me strangely. ‘Might catch up with you after the speech, yeah?’

  ‘Sure, of course. We can discuss your new skincare routine.’

  Over at our table, Gabe wasted no time. ‘Okay, so I never got to meet Dan, and you know I despise Jesse, but this creature is sent from God above, or Buddha. Why are you two not married with two-point-five genetically perfect offspring? You clearly both like each other, because you’re both carrying on like silly little teenagers.’

  I grinned as I took my seat, which was happily between Yasmin and Gabe (a statistical anomaly – like the Naughty Kids at school we were rarely seated together). ‘I think someone else likes him more than I do…’

  ‘Oh, he’s heaven on a skewer. And I know what happens with these things. See, with Dec being the older
brother of your best friend, by law you must have an intense, ongoing crush on him that is never realised until you’re a young, beautiful woman; and by law he must never see you as anything more than a duplicate of his kid sister. Then he must have an epiphany and fall desperately, hopelessly in love with you.’

  I giggled and shook my head. ‘Gabe, no more espresso for you today.’

  I felt my phone vibrate in my bag. I pulled it out and stole a glance at who the missed call was from.

  It was ‘Don’t Answer’.

  Incredible. How the hell did you go from cheating on your girlfriend with some TV skank, to completely carrying on as if your ex-girlfriend didn’t exist, to electronically stalking her?

  Yasmin’s voice came in on my left. ‘Are you even listening? Is that Dan texting you how much he misses your booty already? Tell me, sleazebag.’

  ‘Um,’ I cleared my throat, ‘actually, it’s Jesse.’

  Her eyebrows dropped, her jaw slackened, and her eyes widened.

  ‘NO! Fuck OFF! Why? What did he say? And why is he even texting you?’

  I hoped the presentation was a while off. I had a lot to tell Yasmin and not a lot of time.

  No more peels for that woman

  Get smart, not broke, at the salon with a little thing called hairline highlights. If you colour just the hair that sits on your scalp and frames your face, you get an instant lightening effect. It’s almost as dramatic an effect as if you had a whole crown of highlights. But around six-million dollars cheaper.

  ‘Eliza! Why didn’t you ask me before you had the treatment? I could’ve told you that! It’s way too strong for your skin!’

  I was playing Beauty Know All to Eliza, who had paid nearly two-hundred dollars for a peel that had caused her to look like a burns victim. Of course, having never had a peel, I was as qualified to speak on the subject as a praying mantis, but I figured that since I had been lectured on the topic roughly 183 times, I was absolutely allowed to speak with some authority.

  ‘Well, I don’t know. My friend had one and her face looked good after, so I thought I’d do it.’ She peered at her face in the wall mirror next to my desk. ‘How much longer will I look like Freddy Krueger? I can’t take much more of this.’

  ‘You should be fine by Monday. Did they give you some after-care? Something to soothe the pain of the melting flesh falling off your face?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’ll get you some. I’ll just send this email, and then I’ll put it on your desk.’

  ‘Make it strong, please.’

  ‘Will do.’

  She took a last look at her face before sighing and walking back to her desk.

  No more peels for that woman. I sent my email through to the PR for Giorgio Armani, asking for one of their red lipsticks to shoot – they were superb – and then threw myself into the cupboard looking for some products for Eliza.

  I found her some high-tech soothing balm for sensitive or ‘surgically inflamed’ skin and took it around to her desk. I was running late to a function, as usual, and after grabbing my coat and bag, I bolted out of the office.

  I frantically hailed a cab, and started applying my make-up as we shot through the early-morning streets.

  I looked at my outfit, wondering if I was dressed appropriately: I was off on a sailing day courtesy of Petal cosmetics, who had organised a big boat for all the beauty girls. I really didn’t have time for a full day out of the office, but Eliza and Marley had made it clear I had to go.

  What did you wear sailing, for God’s sake? I’d gone for what I hoped was ‘St Tropez chic’: white pleated shorts, a navy-blue singlet and glorious muted-gold sandals I’d bought in Hawaii. I stopped to survey my look. It had to be pretty close to right, surely: I looked as though I was an extra in Fantasy Island.

  I arrived, still applying bronzer as the cab pulled up – I’d become very good (or very used to) doing my make-up en route to functions – and saw a few beauty girls milling about looking perfectly seaworthy in kaftans and loose, floaty tops, bejewelled sandals and enormous sunglasses.

  As I paid the driver, I tried not to think about the fact Dan hadn’t replied to my text. I knew I was supposed to be prepared for the way he fell off the face of the Earth when I wasn’t in his face, but this was mind-blowingly rude.

  Yasmin was exiting her taxi at the exact same time I was. She was wearing a lurid-green Seventies playsuit with a big gold belt and gold sandals. She’d cut her hair and done something different with her make-up – bright eye-shadow? Liner on the inner rim? New eyebrow-shaper? – and looked incredible.

  ‘Hannah, those shoes: unbelievable. Baby, you look fucking edible.’

  We hugged and she excitedly told me she’d slept with the guitarist of a well-known band last night. So that was why she looked so good.

  Fiona arrived seconds before the boat pulled away, laughing at how pissed off everyone was at her.

  I made Yasmin tell Fiona what she’d done last night.

  ‘You did WHAT? Yasmin! You’ve got to get his number!’

  ‘Fi, shut up. You don’t rely on rock stars for a relationship; everyone knows that.’

  ‘Maybe he’ll ask you to tour and you’ll end up singing back-up,’ I offered.

  ‘Anyway, whatever. If he calls, he calls. Who cares?’ Yasmin said resolutely.

  ‘Especially not when the captain looks like that,’ Fi said lasciviously.

  I followed Fi’s gaze to where a gorgeous guy in a white polo shirt and white shorts stood, welcoming all the girls aboard. He was exceptionally tanned and had amazing green eyes. He actually reminded me of Gabe a little bit, in that Jude Law kind of way.

  ‘Can I have dibs?’ Fi was visually undressing the captain and biting her lip in a style that I thought was a little much for 10 a.m. in the morning.

  ‘Dibs away, baby,’ I said, laughing.

  ‘Morning, everyone!’ Grace, the PR girl, was standing on a chair, waving her clipboard around. ‘If we can all please take a seat, we’ll get this show on the road!’

  Cue waiters with champagne. As I always did, I looked at how many girls took a glass. It was about a 96 per cent hit rate. That was good enough for me. I took one and sipped it delicately. Might as well relax and enjoy myself for once.

  ‘I fricken LOVE this song!’ Yasmin screamed. She was playing air guitar and head-banging, managing to look quite good as she did. Fi was doing her ‘sexy dancing’ – which was what she did when she was drunk and was trying to show off to guys – slowly swaying from side to side, with both hands above her head.

  I was sitting on another sofa, trying to understand how it could be 1 p.m., and a boatload of women could be this drunk. I decided to check my phone. Just as I pulled it out, it started ringing. ‘Don’t Answer’ flashed up on the screen. Clearly I couldn’t read, or I was way too drunk, because I did, in fact, answer.

  ‘Yellow?’

  ‘Hi! Han, it’s me.’

  ‘Me who, sorry?’

  ‘Jesse?’

  ‘Oh, Jesse. Hiiii.’

  ‘Are you drunk?’

  ‘No! Maybe. Who’s asking?’

  ‘You are drunk! At lunchtime! What’s the occasion?’

  ‘Work thing. We’re on a boat.’

  ‘Well, I won’t keep you, in fact I’m just happy you answered – Hannah the Elusive.’

  ‘Pfft.’

  ‘Is there a band on that boat? It’s so loud.’

  ‘Nope. Oh hang on, yes, there is, it’s Justin Timberlake.’

  ‘You’re a nut. Look, I’m wondering if you’re free Friday night? I’ve got tickets to Cirque du Soleil?’

  ‘Um, I’m not sure. I’ll have to get back to you if I’m busy…or not.’

  ‘It’s supposed to be amazing, and I know you really wanted to see it last time it was in town, so I just thought—’

  ‘Ohmigodyoushouldseethislobster!’

  ‘Oh, okay. Sounds like you’re having a great time; enjoy your day. I’ll call tomorrow?�
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  I closed my phone, threw it in my bag and made a beeline for the mega-lobster adorning the table. In my champagne-fuelled daze, I didn’t realise I’d just spoken to the one person I was not supposed to. Whatever. Hungry. Must eat.

  ‘Pretty impressive bottom-crawler, huh?’ Captain Hot, as Fi had christened him, was standing next to me as I piled up my plate.

  ‘’Mazing. Look at those pincers – they could take out someone’s eye if they were, you know, um, scuba diving or… forget it. Impressive crustacean.’

  He laughed. ‘I’m Matt.’

  ‘And you drive the ship. I know. We notice things, you know.’

  Matt laughed again. ‘Why are you the only one eating? Or is that normal in the magazine world, no one eating?’

  Someone had his confidence jacket on.

  ‘Please, that’s the fashion girls, not us. We eat like sumo wrestlers.’ I looked around – everyone else was dancing, drinking, smoking or talking. ‘Well, usually we do, anyway. They’re just tanked. Who cares? More for us, right?’

  ‘Correct. Do you need me to do that for you?’

  I was having immense difficulty taking apart my lobster claw.

  ‘Oh, would you mind? Thanks so much. Never was very good at this.’

  I looked at him with my head on one side as he masterfully took the crab apart. He was very good.

  ‘There you go, ma’am. Wanna go sit up on the top deck? It’s amazing up there. Where the rich people sit. Leave the heathens down below, y’know?’

  I laughed. ‘As a heathen, I find that exceptionally offensive. But enticing, no less. Let us go up to this top deck you speak of.’

  I took my plate, and a freshly filled glass of wine, and tried not to fall up or down the stairs as I awkwardly clambered up after Captain Hot.

  ‘Okay, sold. The top deck wins.’ It was amazing, the view of the water stretching for miles. At the opposite end a few of the beauty girls were smoking and sunning their legs, and at our end a beautiful sequence of day beds and a delicate white sun-cover formed an outdoor lounge room. We could see the incredible mansions that adorned the shores, and a pure blue sky.