by Jemma Forte
Jessica had arranged to meet Kerry and the others in the Toucan in Soho and she and Dulcie arrived together promptly at eight thirty. Despite Jessica’s instructions to dress casual, Dulcie was wearing a most fashion-forward outfit. Determined to make the last night of her trip a good one, she’d chosen a leopard-skin jumpsuit by Alexander Wang, which she actually looked pretty damn sensational in, even if she did stick out like a sore thumb. As they made their way to the bar, Jessica realized that, apart from Kerry, they were the first to arrive.
‘Blimey,’ Kerry said sarcastically to Dulcie as soon as she saw them approaching. ‘You could have made an effort.’
Never having seen Kerry dressed for anything other than the office before, Jessica was amazed by how different her boss looked. She was wearing a very slimming black dress with red cork wedges and her unruly mane had been tamed for the evening.
‘You look amazing,’ Jessica said. ‘I love your dress. You look so different.’
‘She’s right,’ said Dulcie. ‘I actually didn’t recognize you.’
‘Good,’ said Kerry, ‘that way you won’t nag me about coming on the show.’
‘Well … I …’ began Dulcie, but she didn’t finish what she was going to say. Jessica was giving her such a dirty look she didn’t dare. She’d been lectured enough.
‘You look great too by the way, Jess,’ Kerry added, nodding to Jessica’s purple mini dress, which showed off her toned limbs to perfection. ‘Paul’s going to love it.’
Despite the fact that this was exactly what Jessica secretly wanted, instead of thanking Kerry for her well-aimed compliment she retaliated with an equally loaded one.
‘And I think Luke might be quite pleasantly surprised tonight too.’
‘Luke!’ Kerry repeated, aghast. ‘Are you having me on? As if Luke would ever look twice at me. Come to think of it, as if I would look at him twice either. We’re the same bloody height, though I suspect he probably has a smaller waist than me. I’d crush him.’
‘Well, I don’t think he’d mind being crushed.’
Dulcie stifled a giggle and Kerry was just on the verge of telling Jessica to keep her ridiculous comments to herself when in through the doors came Isy, Vanessa, Natasha, then just behind them Luke and finally Paul. As soon as he appeared, Jessica’s heart did a weird somersault in her chest. She sighed as she realized her palms had gone all sweaty and that her mouth was dry as a bone. What a dreadful cliché of someone with a crush she was being. Dulcie poking her in the ribs wasn’t helping. Feeling like this wasn’t supposed to happen.
The girls from the office bounded over to say hello and Jessica was touched to note that, for her sake, they all greeted Dulcie in a friendly enough manner. Though when Natasha started bombarding her with questions, Jessica did slightly suspect her motives.
In the meantime, she couldn’t resist stealing another look in Paul’s direction. He was chatting animatedly to Kerry but just at that moment he looked up and caught her eye. Simultaneously they both smiled broadly and Jessica knew she wasn’t just imagining things. There was something between them, like a delicious secret they were both aware of. Then he noticed Dulcie and purposefully did a sort of horrified double take. It was so comical that Jessica couldn’t help but giggle.
‘Are you OK here for a minute?’ she said to Dulcie. ‘I’m just going to go to the bar.’
‘I’m fine, sweetie, just enjoying this very English experience. I’ve never been somewhere for a drink that’s actually carpeted, or that smells of dog. It’s unique.’
Leaving Dulcie with Isy, Jessica gulped down the dregs of her vodka and tonic and went to the bar to order another. Even with her back to him, she could feel Paul’s eyes on her and found herself flicking her hair and nibbling delicately on a finger in a coquettish manner that would normally have her puking, while hoping he might come over. Suddenly, acting like the antithesis of what women’s lib had fought for felt like the only natural way to be. She turned round to sneak another peek and, sure enough, their eyes met.
‘Someone’s got the hots for you, girl,’ said Kerry drily, leaving Paul to come and join Jessica at the bar. ‘He’s being all nice and I haven’t seen him wearing an ironed top since he went out with Natasha,’ she added, just as Luke appeared at her elbow. Jessica had no choice other than to swallow this last comment that had cannon-balled through her, triggering questions galore along the way.
‘All right,’ Luke said nonchalantly, his trilby perched at a rakish angle. ‘You’ve scrubbed up all right tonight, Kezza. Hoping to pull, are you? Or are you meeting one of your Internet sex pests?’
‘Shut up, arse face,’ retorted Kerry, though slightly less aggressively than she might usually. Try as she might, she couldn’t put what Jessica had said earlier out of her head. She knew it was utter rubbish and, as for her fancying Luke, well, it had never even crossed her mind before. It was impossible, however, not to have your interest piqued when somebody told you someone fancied you, she decided. Especially when it had been so long since someone had fancied her. Frankly, at this stage, if Colonel Gaddafi was interested she’d be grateful. She glanced at Luke, who grinned back, catching her eye for just a second longer than was necessary. Oh, bugger it. Bugger Jessica and her stupid ideas. Luke was just the office twat who took the piss out of her the entire time, pestering her like a little boy in the playground, pestering the girl with the pigtails, telling her he hated her when in fact he …
‘What can I get you?’ said the barmaid finally, with a world-weary air that Jessica found hilarious. In the States the service industry was that exactly, an industry, and one that took customer satisfaction seriously. In London people serving you often made you feel grateful if you got what you actually asked for, while managing to make you feel bad for asking in the first place.
‘What do you want, guys?’ she asked Kerry and Luke.
‘Put your money away, Bender,’ said Luke ‘These ones are on me. I’ll even buy one for your mate, old Scary Spice, and the lovely Kerry, of course.’
‘Gee, thanks, Luke,’ said Jessica, deliberately catching Kerry’s eye and winking. ‘I’ll have a vodka and tonic, please.’
‘I’ll have a pint,’ said Kerry and Jessica smiled inwardly. Luke’s expression said it all. A chick who drank pints. She was so obviously the girl of his dreams.
‘So, Kerry,’ said Jessica, trying and failing to sound casual, ‘I was just wondering. When Paul and Natasha went out with each other, did he really like her? Out of interest,’ she added hastily, hating herself for being unable to resist asking.
‘Yeah, he did,’ said Kerry plainly. ‘But they weren’t right together at all and she made him bloody miserable, so don’t sweat it.’
‘Yeah, don’t,’ said Luke, grinning inanely. ‘Paul may think he’s in with a chance with Natasha again, but it isn’t what he wants deep down. Or rather, who he wants,’ he added sweetly. ‘Your name’s been bandied about our flat a lot recently.’
Jessica smiled weakly. She felt reassured by this, but only mildly. God, she was a fool. If Paul still had feelings for Natasha, who frankly was a bit of a goddess, what chance did she stand? And, besides, there was no point getting involved she reminded herself, though this mantra was starting to ring less and less true.
Their drinks arrived and Jessica was just taking a rather huge slurp of hers to steady her nerves when Paul himself sauntered over.
‘All right?’ he greeted her with a small nod. She could smell his aftershave. It smelled divine. His own unique smell, blended in with cigarette smoke, washing powder and whatever citrusy potion he’d clearly splashed on his face. ‘Drink?’
‘No, thanks,’ Jessica replied primly, taking another large swig. ‘Luke’s just got me one, thanks.’
‘Well, judging by how that one’s slipping down it’s not going to last long, so why don’t I get you another anyway?’
‘Fine,’ she replied, almost sulkily, battling with the ugly jealousy that had consumed her about Nata
sha. The amount of vodka she’d already drunk wasn’t exactly helping keep her emotions in check either. She’d always been a cheap date, even by LA standards.
Just then Natasha slunk over to join them. ‘Did I hear you say something about getting the drinks in? I’ll have my usual please, Paul,’ she said pointedly. She’d chosen her words carefully and looked at Jessica to make sure she’d got the message. She didn’t want Paul herself but didn’t necessarily want anyone else getting their claws into him either. Still, Paul wasn’t stupid and due to how he’d started to feel about Jessica was less blinded when it came to his ex these days.
‘You’ll have to remind me,’ he said, knowing exactly what she was up to. ‘What is your usual? I’ve totally forgotten.’
Natasha looked furious but, not wanting to lose face in front of Jessica, resorted to making Paul look mean instead.
‘That’s right. I’d forgotten how little you used to like putting your hand in your pocket. Why would you remember?’
‘Let me get you a drink,’ said Jessica. The last thing she wanted was to make an enemy of Natasha.
‘Go on then,’ she said, not caring enough to push things any further. ‘I’ll have a spritzer, with soda, and then I want to get going. DJ Delish is playing the second set and I’ve heard he’s exactly that. Fit, apparently.’
Paul rolled his eyes and shook his head, and then he stopped. How fantastic. For the first time in a long time he realized that what Natasha had just said had had precisely no effect on him whatsoever. DJ Delish was welcome to her. Brilliant.
As Natasha went back to join the other girls at a nearby table, Jessica smiled at Paul, any fears she’d had about Natasha having been put to rest for now. He looked gorgeous tonight and had that look about him that manly men always had when they’d made a real effort with their appearance. As if he’d spent a whole hour in the shower scrubbing himself as clean as it is possible to be. His dark, almost black hair was freshly washed and his clothes smelled noticeably clean. He was wearing a T-shirt with a really nice light sweater. His gorgeous butt was clad in the same kind of jeans as ever and he was wearing his usual battered trainers. A desire to nuzzle into his neck and sniff washed over her, though needless to say she didn’t follow it up.
Just then Kerry saved them from self-conscious silence by announcing to the group that it was time to drink up and head for the club. Feeling decidedly tipsy, Jessica slugged back her latest drink.
‘So is this club we’re going to any good?’
‘Never been,’ said Paul. ‘Though I suspect it’ll be my idea of hell. You know it’s called “Guilty Pleasures”, don’t you?’
‘Er, sure,’ said Jessica, suddenly worried that their evening might entail being whipped, tied up or spanked.
‘Which refers to their music policy,’ explained Paul. ‘They only play tunes that most normal people would deem to be shit. Stuff like Take That, Abba, Spice Girls. Cheese,’ he finished nonchalantly. ‘You’ll feel right at home.’
‘No way,’ said Jessica happily, having learned by now not to take him too seriously when he wound her up, chuffed instead that he’d remembered their chat. ‘It sounds like, totally awesome,’ she giggled, heady from a cocktail of booze and lust.
‘Yeah, like totally,’ replied Paul, taking the piss.
‘Oh, fuck off,’ she replied, blushing madly and hitting his arm. ‘Anyway, if you hate the music so much, why are you even coming?’
‘Why do you think?’ he answered straight away, giving her such an extraordinarily sexy look it made her shiver with longing right down to her toes. ‘Though I don’t know why you had to bring your mate,’ he added, slightly ruining the effect.
‘Because it’s her last night in town and she’s my best friend,’ said Jessica firmly. ‘I know you didn’t take to her, and admittedly she didn’t show herself in a great light that day, but I promise you, underneath that LA veneer she is a sweet, down-to-earth girl.’
‘She looks it,’ said Paul, nodding his head in Dulcie’s direction and Jessica followed his gaze to see Dulcie wiping her glass with what could only be an antibacterial wipe.
21
The last time Jessica and Dulcie had gone out dancing in LA had been a few months ago. They’d gone to a party in Paris Hilton’s legendary basement, which was actually a nightclub, complete with dance floor and pole to swing round. It had been a fun night and everyone had let their hair down to a degree, though never at the expense of their looks. The girls there had been careful to drink only enough to make them feel more uninhibited than usual, but not so much that they lost their handbag or control of their lip gloss coverage. When a tune came on that they liked they’d whooped coquettishly, raising one limp hand in the air, while continuing to dance sexily in their sky-high heels. Heels that were agonizingly painful to dance in, but that elongated their calves.
It seemed like a small thing at first but, as the rather well-oiled group left the pub, Jessica noticed that while the British girls’ heels were high, they weren’t so high that they wouldn’t be able to have a ‘bloody good dance’. Somehow she knew this would have been a factor in their decision to choose clumpy wedges over spindly heels and it spoke volumes to her. It seemed symbolic of the difference in attitude between the Brits and their privileged Hollywood counterparts. In short, Kerry and the others cared more about having fun than looking good and Jessica felt something akin to relief to confirm that the weird, image-obsessed microcosm she’d been brought up in wasn’t the only way.
They weaved their way through Soho, an experience in itself on a Saturday night, and upon reaching the club found they had to wait in line, despite being on the guest list. When the rope was finally lifted for the group, Dulcie couldn’t resist saying, ‘I can’t believe I’m even doing this. I’ve never waited in line for anything in my life.’
‘First time for everything,’ said Paul sharply before walking in.
‘Please,’ Jessica implored her friend, ‘can you at least try to sound a little more down to earth?’
‘All right,’ said Dulcie, ‘but don’t go loco on me. You know half the time I only say things for the sake of it.’
By this time they were walking downstairs to the basement club and could hear the first strains of the music inside. Isy, who was just behind them, was the first to figure out what tune was playing. She let out the sort of delighted shriek normally reserved for a hen night in Magaluf and barged past them, so desperate was she to get inside.
‘What is it?’ said Jessica. ‘What are they playing?’
Dulcie was next to work it out, though didn’t stop to explain either. Instead she shoved past Jessica and raced Isy to the dance floor, any pretence at being cool having been abandoned. It was ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ by Cyndi Lauper. Jessica was soon hot on their heels and it wasn’t long before the three girls were swirling around on the dance floor, singing along loudly. At one point, thinking that Isy was doing a funny dance for their benefit, Jessica and Dulcie laughed out loud until they realized that she wasn’t and that it was just her unique style. Their faces fell as they worried that they might have hurt Isy’s feelings, but they needn’t have panicked. Isy was dancing with such passion she remained oblivious to the various odd looks she was getting, and not just from Jessica and Dulcie.
Paul, who for obvious reasons hadn’t exactly had the same reaction to the tune, entered the club at a more relaxed pace, but grinned the minute he spotted Jessica and her friends. He was surprised to see Dulcie entering into the spirit of things so enthusiastically but, then again, recently he seemed to be feeling permanently surprised about something … or someone. He stood and watched Jessica spinning around, mouthing the words of the song and exuding so much happiness he felt positively uplifted. Jessica Bender definitely put a smile on his face and at this rate he might be in danger of losing his mean and moody reputation. She was gorgeous and she looked so fit in that dress.
Luke signalled across to him. He’d found some seats right nex
t to the dance floor from where they could watch their female colleagues flinging themselves around in comfort.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Luke. ‘What is Isy doing? She looks like she’s left her medication at home or something.’
Paul grinned. ‘She’s like one of those drama students. You know, the ones who express themselves through movement. I am a tree.’
‘At least Scary Spice is joining in,’ shouted Luke as the DJ mixed the next track in. ‘And Bender’s not a bad little mover, is she?’
Paul flicked his friend the finger but grinned as he did so. The music was so loud there wasn’t much point in talking so they sat back and enjoyed the show, both concentrating on the women they were interested in. Although, unless you were extremely observant, when it came to Luke it was hard to tell who that was.
Luke was used to keeping the way he felt about Kerry hidden, but the fact was he’d been in love with her for as long as he could remember. For as long as he could remember, Kerry had also been very vocal and very clear about her list. Her list of what she did and didn’t want in a bloke. Her list that she had shared with the entire office … As a result of said list, Luke knew that Kerry did want to meet someone who could make her laugh. That part he felt he could manage. She also wanted someone who was solvent, kind and honest and who loved her more than she loved him. Ditto all of the above.
She didn’t want, however, to be with anyone who didn’t like dogs. Luke loved dogs. She also didn’t want anyone racist, snobby, pretentious or stuck-up. Fine. Though she definitely did want someone with a good head of hair and her ideal man had to be tall. These particular criteria she’d announced on more than one occasion, to more than one person. Luke was never going to be tall and there was a reason he always wore his beloved hat.