Love, Lies and Louboutins (Heartbreak Book 2)

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Love, Lies and Louboutins (Heartbreak Book 2) Page 7

by S. M Phillips


  What am I supposed to do now? I stop and take in my surroundings. It could be purely coincidental, or maybe everyone’s just blissfully happy, but all I can see are loved up couples practically skipping up and down the street, hand in hand, while demonstrating their sickening PDA’s.

  I have no idea where I’m heading, but it’s not like I can just rock up back at mine like nothing has happened. Way to go Emily, way to go.

  It doesn’t take all that long for my phone to start ringing in my back pocket and I‘m not all that surprised when I see a picture of Matt’s naked backside gracing my screen. Oh, but I really do love his bum. It’s just so peachy and perfect. It’s possibly the most perfect bum in the whole wide world, and thinking about him isn’t making me feel any better about myself, or this little to-do between us.

  I’m angry and I’m hurt.

  Bloody Graham. I’m never going to be able to walk away from him and he’s never going to just leave me be, either. I was always adamant that even though Matt was still working there, like he should because there is no way I would ever want to cause problems with his career, I was always so certain it wouldn’t be an issue, and it hasn’t been until now.

  Right now, what I need is some space. I need to try and clear my head and figure out what I’m going to say to Matt, because let’s face it, I’m going to need to speak to him eventually. Maybe he’s not ready for this whole new level of bitch that I’ve shown him today. Who knows, I could end up going back home and he could have packed up his stuff and got the hell out of there. Personally, I wouldn’t blame him, either.

  But is that what I really want? Hell no… I love having Matt around and I would be distraught if things were to end between us. That is not what I want at all.

  I guess I just need to find a way of telling him that without going off the handle again.

  “Well, fancy seeing you here!”

  I look up and regret doing so almost instantly. I was actually quite content drowning in my own negative thoughts as I potentially face the life of a singleton once more, but I can no longer dwell on that as I’m greeted by someone I didn’t expect to see out and about.

  It’s sods law, isn’t it? Now, when I look like absolute tosh and most likely resemble the worst walking disaster there ever was, now would be the perfect time for me to come face to face with the ever so flawless Lyndsey. Looks like her make-up expertise wasn’t so much a fluke after all.

  Jesus wept, I bet I look so unprofessional too, sat here with my hair all over the show, rocking the good old trusted yoga pants with not a single ounce of make-up on my face. At least she’ll be ticking hair and make-up off that never-ending list of hers after looking at me. Praise the Lord for small mercies.

  I don’t even want to think about what I must look like after hours of non-stop crying and sniffling. Trust me, no amount of make-up would be able to cover this hot mess up, anyway. Scrap that, even my favourite Instagram filter wouldn’t be able to fix this.

  “Hey,” I sniffle back, rather weakly hoping and praying that she’ll tune into her inner girl vibes and see that all I need is some space and be on her merry little way.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, her voice full of concern. Obviously, she doesn’t have the girl vibes, either that or she’s just one of those nosey buggers who likes to in everything going on.

  “Who me?” I wave my hand out to dismiss her. “Yeah, of course. Just taking a quick five, you know.” I lie and I know instantly that I’m not fooling her. Okay, maybe she has some girl vibes after all. In the short space of time that I have known her, I have learnt that she can be many things: crazy, wild, demanding, to name a few, but I don’t think naïve is one of them.

  “Are you sure? Because those eyes of yours are telling me a completely different story.”

  “One thing about allergies, nothing ever stops them. Oh, and they make you look like crap too.” Lyndsey pouts her lips as she continues to stare me down. No, this chick isn’t buying my bullshit at all. Now if this was Rachel, I’d be back home sorting stuff out with Matt, but alas, I don’t want to burden her any more than I have already. “I guess I’m not really doing myself any favours by sitting in the middle of a park, am I?”

  “No, I guess not.” Lyndsey shrugs her shoulders a little, offers me a weak smile and then takes a seat on the bench next to me. Why is it that when I see her she just looks so flawless, a bit like she’s just stepped off a bloody catwalk. There’s really no denying that she oozes pure beauty and to make matters worse, it all seems fairly natural too. I bet her parents were out of this world.

  I really wish that I could get my contour to look so on point like that. Instead, when I try to do it I look like I’m dressing up for a part in the Lion King. “You know a problem shared….” She urges, but I just can’t bring myself to unload on her. I mean, hello, I’m supposed to be her wedding planner and instead of planning said wedding, I’m sat on a bloody park bench being a blubbering, hormonal mess. Plus, it wouldn’t be very professional of me if I were suddenly to start slagging off the male race.

  “I’m okay, honestly.” I lie again, but really, what else can I do?

  “It’s okay. I get it.” She does? “Sometimes everything builds up and you have to let it all out, eventually. Look, I hope you don’t think I’m being too full on here, I know that we haven’t known each other very long, but I really like you, Emily.” She smiles again and right now I literally have no words, so I remain quiet and allow her to continue. “From what I’ve seen of you, you’re friendly, happy and so confident and carefree. You make me feel like the most special bride-to-be in the entire world…”

  Well, I wasn’t expecting that, that’s for sure. Bloody hell, talk about deep. Please, please tell me that this isn’t the part where she chooses this moment to confess her undying love for me and tells me she’s going to leave her husband-to-be, because I wouldn’t be able to deal with that kind of madness right now. My head is too fragile. Any other day, hell yes, I could deal with it, but not after the emotional rollercoaster I’ve been on already.

  Lyndsey’s eyes still lock onto mine, yet I still have no words. Absolutely none. I just about manage to offer her a small smile and when I do her whole face lights up.

  Maybe she’s not so bad after all. Maybe she’s a little too much like me, and there’s definitely nothing wrong with head strong and knowing exactly what you want.

  Do you know what, I think there might just be enough room for two drama queens in this city?

  “Do you know the reason why I’m here?” Lyndsey asks after some time. I’m quite glad actually as the silence was getting a little awkward between us.

  “Nope, but from the way you just asked me, I’m guessing it goes a lot deeper than a casual stroll?”

  “No,” she laughs, “I don’t mean the park, I mean here in London.”

  “Wait, are you not from around here?” I ask, and I’m sure my bottom lip has just fallen to the floor. I won’t lie, I’m super confused, I mean she sounds local and I’m sure she told me she was from here to begin with.

  “Well, I grew up here,” she laughs, and she looks so carefree. This is a prime example of why one should never judge a book by its cover. “But I left a couple of years back. What can I say, it’s complicated, really complicated, and it’s one hell of a long story. I’m sure you don’t want to hear all the ins and outs. I bet you don’t have the time for that these days.”

  Oh, believe me, right now I’ve got plenty of time for everything and anything that doesn’t revolve around my personal life. But wow, I never would have guessed this. I automatically assumed that little Miss Prissy had the perfect life, you know — silver spoon and all that, but it looks like even she’s hiding her own deep and dark secrets. “I bet it feels good to be back then?” The words fall from my lips before I can stop them and I don’t know if I’ve gone too far. Like I said, I barely even know her. Bloody hell, one of these days I might just surprise myself and grow a flaming filter. “I’m sor
ry…”

  “Oh no, don’t be,” she shrugs me off which fills me with a wave of relief. I don’t want to be losing a client before I’ve even really started. “I never planned on coming back at all. Family, who’d have them anyway, right?” Uh-oh. This doesn’t sound that good. I think I should get out while I still can. The last thing I want is to be caught up in is family dramas, especially if I’m going to have to meet them at some point too. “Well, that’s what I thought. Right up until Neil proposed, I was adamant that I didn’t need anyone but him.”

  “So, what changed?” I find myself asking. There’s just something about her that keeps me hooked. None of this is my business, but she looks like she’s been carrying one hell of a load around with her and maybe she just needs to vent. Sometimes it’s even better when you unload to a total stranger — no judgement, none whatsoever.

  “Honestly, I don’t know when it happened. I’ve always been okay on my own, even better when I met Neil. Suddenly, I woke up one day, and I had the urge to reconnect with my family. However, I’ve yet to get in touch. But I’m here and that’s a start at least.”

  “It sounds to me like you’re doing the right thing.”

  “Yeah?” Lyndsey doesn’t sound all too convinced. I can practically see the cogs in her mind ticking over as the doubts kick in and then she tries to build herself back up again.

  “Of course. They’re family. Nothing can change that.” I say encouragingly, but on the inside, I want to give myself a good kicking. What the hell is this utter bullshit I’m spouting? I haven’t got the bloody foggiest if she’s doing the right thing or not, but for some strange, unknown reason I really want to make her feel better.

  “I think the wedding has started it all. I’d hate to go ahead and seal the deal without them even knowing about it. God, I’m sorry, enough about me. I’m a big girl and I’m sure I’ll be able to fix it one way or another. If not, at least I can say that I tried. Now, do you want to talk about what’s going on with you?”

  “No,” I say all too quickly. Here I am, sitting in the middle of a park with my client, listening to her pour her heart out over something that she holds dear to her, and she wants to make sure I’m okay. She has family that she could be finding right now, but she doesn’t look like she’s in any mad rush to leave me. It looks like I definitely got this chick all wrong, right from the off. Lyndsey looks a little taken aback at my stern response, so I try my best to correct myself. “Seriously, I’m okay. My problems are nothing to worry about, I promise. It’s just a slight spot of man trouble, nothing major. Miscommunication.” I laugh.

  “Ah, I see. I hate it when that happens. What you need is to get home and talk to your man. I’m sure that whatever it is, with someone like you by his side you’ll both be able to work through it.”

  I bloody like her more with each minute that passes. She’d fit right in with me and Rachel. “I sure hope so.” I sigh. The thought of going back to speak to Matt fills me with an unwelcome anxiety and I really don’t like it. “The problem is, I think I might have gone a little too far with my bitchitude.” Oh, he probably hates me now anyway, so what’s the bloody point in torturing myself by going over and over it again in my frazzled little head? “Let’s just hope he’s still there when I get back home.”

  “Well, I’ll keep everything crossed for you and you can tell me all about it at our next appointment. I’ll get the coffee’s in.”

  I look at Lyndsey again and I mentally curse myself for thinking badly of her. Not just because she’s my client, no, but because she seems to be a really nice girl and I can’t help but feel like I went all Mean Girl on her to begin with. I genuinely hope she manages to get in touch with her family before her big day too. “Thanks,” I smile again and this time I have to fight off the urge to give her a hug. “if I don’t see you before, then I’ll definitely be seeing you on Friday.”

  “You most certainly will and hopefully our little issues will all be forgotten about and we can both look back and laugh this off.”

  “Now that is something that I’m going to hold you too.” I promise.

  I wasn’t all that surprised to find that Matt wasn’t waiting for me when I got home. He’d quite clearly given up trying to reach me on my phone too. I had over ten missed calls from him whilst I was sat chatting away to Lyndsey, yet he didn’t leave a single message. He can be such a strange boy at times. I’ve also searched the house high and low, looking for a note, a clue, or something to tell me we were going to be okay, but so far, I have found nothing.

  Why I expected to find something in the first place, I’m not too sure. I mean it was me who walked out, not him. All over something bloody stupid too.

  Now I’ve had time to calm down and think back on my actions a little, I can kind of see why flying off the handle like I did probably wasn’t the best way to handle things. It so doesn’t scream mature girlfriend material, does it?

  So, what if Graham has a proposition for him — big deal. Matt shouldn’t be dragged into my drama’s. Looking at the bigger picture here, I guess I should be a little more grateful to Matt. After all, he came to me to tell me face to face instead of just meeting up with Graham to discuss whatever it is that he wants to discuss with him. Surely, that has to mean something, right? Bloody hell, that’s what relationships are about. Trust and communication. Matt obviously wanted to make sure I was okay with all of this before he decided anything and I’ve gone and kicked him in the bloody balls before he’s even had a chance to explain. Well, before I gave him the chance to, anyway.

  Emily, you stupid girl. What have you gone and done?

  Matt wanted my opinion on something that is most likely going to affect the both of us, and I didn’t even give him the time of day to tell me what it was. I just stormed off like a spoilt little brat. He actually tried to show how much he cares by going out of his way to involve me in this and he would have known how upset I would be too. Especially if he had gone ahead and didn’t discuss it with me first. He respected me that much to make sure he told me, to make sure that I was aware of everything and what did I do? I went and repaid him by turning into a psychotic bitch.

  When will I ever learn?

  I know that I’ve royally fucked up because he hasn’t tried to call me since all those missed calls yesterday.

  As more time passes, it’s looking more and more likely that I’m going to need to swallow my pride and pull up my big girl knickers. Yes, I’m going to have to be the one to call him, and I really don’t want too. Hopefully, to save me the embarrassment he’ll answer my call, possibly arrange to meet for lunch and I’ll apologise profusely. Then when all’s been said and done, we’ll head back home and have some pretty amazing make up sex and everything will go back to normal — or at least as normal as normal can be.

  Here’s to hoping, at least.

  If someone had asked me a few days ago if there was a possibility of me going out for a good old shin-dig with Lyndsey, then I would have more than likely wet myself with laughter, but all being said, she’s really not that bad.

  Maybe she caught me off guard. You know being under pressure on the first day of your new business can be pretty bloody daunting and if I’m going to be completely honest here; she intimidated me. There she was, swanning around looking all flawless and basically boasting how perfect she was, because you know, she is getting married after all and then there’s me; a week away from my thirtieth and not a single proposal in sight.

  Yes, I’m totally being overdramatic again. Do I really want Matt to propose? Yes, one day but I sure as hell don’t want him getting down on one knee and popping the question six months in.

  I was such a judgemental bitch on Monday and I feel really bad for it. I hate judgemental people, and here I am bloody acting like one.

  Rachel must sense my unease as I suddenly feel her hand gripping my elbow and she squeezes gently. “Hey, you okay?”

  “Me? Of course.” I lie. One of these days I will learn that Rachel
can see straight through me with her. witchery skills. “Okay, I will be,” I add when I can no longer take the heat of her stare.

  “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it,” she whispers and her eyes seek out Lyndsey propped up at the bar. “But we will talk about this and soon. You’re supposed to be happy. You should be buzzing your tits off now that you’ve got your own business and a flaming boom one at that.” She smiles proudly.

  “I am, honestly.” I tell her truthfully. Come on Lyndsey, hurry up and get back from the bar so that I don’t need to continue this conversation. I don’t know why because I always tell Rachel everything, but I just can’t bring myself to tell her about Matt.

  How do I begin to explain that I lost my shit, walked out and when I returned home after giving myself the cooling space I needed, he wasn’t waiting for me and I still haven’t heard from him since?

  I was angry, and my reaction was raw and real and I can’t help the way I acted. Surely, he can understand that I don’t want to come face to face with the man who ruined me, or allowed my life to be ruined by his stupid, stuck up little daughter?

  There was a time when I had a lot of love for Graham and I would have given him all the time in the world, but now? Not a bloody cat in hell’s chance.

  In all honesty, he’s had six months to apologize. It’s all well and good Matt saying that he’s been asking after me. It’s all well and good him saying he didn’t know how to tell me because he didn’t know how I would act, but Graham was my boss for a long time. He knew where I lived. He had all of my bloody details for crying out loud — everything including my bank details.

  Who knows, maybe he couldn’t find the minerals to face me after what he did to me, but that’s not my problem. It’s his and it just proves that I was right all along… the guy has no fucking balls.

  “Here we go, girls,” Lyndsey calls out as she comes back to our table laden with cocktails. Now this is my kind of afternoon. Plus, I’m with a client so no one can really accuse me of slacking, can they?

 

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