by Ilana Fox
Amelia shrugged and speared a piece of crab on her fork. ‘I don’t know, but it looks like you have. I mean, all you do all day is work out or sunbathe, and I don’t think a morsel of food has passed your lips unless you have checked that it has less than ten calories. You can’t be eating more than a thousand calories a day. If that.’
Jo shook her head. ‘I think I’m eating too much,’ she said. ‘And I feel really lazy – for hours every afternoon I sunbathe, and I could be working out in that time. In fact, I was thinking about joining that new gym in Sarasota. I know we’re not here for that much longer but I think it will be worth it. I’ve got a craving to lift some weights … it might help me shift some of this lard.’
Amelia rolled her eyes. ‘Jo, look at yourself! Can you not see that you’ve lost loads of weight already?’
Jo shook her head and Amelia looked at her sadly. Jo’s eyes had turned to steel. ‘I think you must have forgotten what I look like because I’ve barely lost any weight at all.’ Jo cast her gaze over the swimming pool and tried to control the anger bubbling up inside her. She really didn’t want to fall out with her best friend.
Amelia dropped her fork on her plate with a clatter and pushed her chair back away from the table. ‘Right, I’ve had enough. Come with me.’
Amelia led Jo back to the condo and made her stand in front of a mirror, where Jo tried to look at everything but herself. ‘Can you see your cheekbones?’ Amelia asked pointedly. ‘And look here,’ she said, yanking down the neck of Jo’s T-shirt. ‘Look at your collarbone. You couldn’t see it a month ago, but you definitely can now.’ Amelia started pulling at Jo’s clothes, doing a great Trinny and Susannah impression. Jo wondered at what point Amelia was going to cup her breasts and say that she needed a better-fitting bra.
Jo gave in and concentrated on her image in the mirror. She scowled. ‘But look at my stomach. It’s hanging over my shorts. Look at my legs, and, God, look at my thighs. I’m so ugly.’ Jo sat on the bed and tried not to cry. Her hair was messed up from the chlorine in the swimming pool, and she could barely see her eyes, which she believed were still hidden within the fat above her plump cheeks. She felt so disgusted with herself.
Amelia sat down next to her and sighed, awkwardly putting her arm around her friend. ‘I’ve not wanted to share this with you because I didn’t want you to become obsessed. But I have a secret.’ Despite herself Jo was interested – did she have diet pills? Laxatives? Even though she knew they were bad for her Jo was getting desperate. She absolutely had to lose some weight and maybe this was how Amelia managed to never put on a pound. ‘They’re in my bathroom. Do you want to see?’
Amelia came back into Jo’s bedroom with her hands behind her back, and she produced some expensive-looking electric scales. Jo felt her heart sink – she’d have preferred diet pills, even though she knew William would have been disgusted with her for even thinking that.
‘I think it’s time we let the scales speak for themselves,’ Amelia said, and Jo eyed them warily before burying her head in her hands. She didn’t think she could stand the shame of Amelia seeing just how overweight she was. It would be on a par with her friend trying out some bikini wax strips on her – absolutely mortifying.
‘I can’t do it. I don’t think I can bear knowing.’
‘Jo, I really think you should,’ Amelia said gently, and she put the scales on the floor and felt sympathy flood her body. She had read enough magazines to know that Jo had a distorted image of her body, and she wanted her friend to realise that everyone else could see a slimmer, more toned version of the girl she thought she was. ‘How much did you weigh the last time you stood on a pair of these?’
‘Sixteen stone,’ she said sullenly, and she waited for a disgusted reaction from Amelia that didn’t come. Amelia’s face remained passive.
‘I am willing to bet you have lost at least a stone,’ Amelia said. ‘And you know me, I’m never wrong. Come on, get on.’
Jo refused for about ten minutes, but when she realised Amelia was not going to leave her alone she slowly kicked off her flip-flops and climbed on to the scales. As well as hating herself she also hated Amelia for making her break her promise – despite her friend’s earnest observations she was sure she hadn’t lost any weight at all, and Jo didn’t think she could bear knowing she hadn’t lost a pound. Jo looked at the back of Amelia’s head as her friend peered down at the display, and when Amelia didn’t say anything she felt animosity run through her body.
‘Well?’ she said defensively, unable to keep the nervousness from her voice.
‘I was wrong, I’m sorry.’
Jo stared at Amelia and felt a sudden hostility towards her. What did Amelia know about humiliation? Jo thought, as she took in the tiny denim hotpants and tight Abercrombie T-shirt that her friend was wearing. Nothing had ever gone wrong for Amelia – apart from the situation with Charlie – and that had only happened because Amelia was so nice and so trusting that Charlie had walked all over her. No, Jo concluded, that couldn’t have been that humiliating. And it was nothing on Jo getting all her hopes up about losing weight and finding out she’d not lost any at all.
‘You’ve lost nearly four stone.’
Jo looked up at Amelia in surprise and then looked down at the scales in shock. Without realising it, she’d got down to twelve stone.
Chapter Twelve
September 2004
‘I can’t believe you’re going home. What am I going to do without you?’ Jo said through her tears as she gave Amelia another hug.
‘Hey, you’ll be fine, just you wait and see. I almost wish I could stay, but I have to go. Daddy’s already paid the tuition fees for my MA and he’ll go mad if I don’t go back home.’ Amelia struggled out of Jo’s grasp and surveyed her friend. In the time they’d spent together Jo had gone down to a size fourteen and was a happier, more confident version of the girl who had walked through arrivals clutching her handbag nervously. She was wearing beat-up Diesel jeans and a close-fitting T-shirt and she looked healthy. Mission accomplished. Amelia was proud of her, even though she had tears dripping down her face.
‘I don’t care about your dad. Drop out of college and get a job in Kilwin’s ice-cream parlour,’ Jo said with a pout. ‘I’ll get a job selling those handbags that people carry tiny dogs in and we can live out here permanently.’
Amelia grimaced. ‘What, and face seeing broken-hearted Jackson for the rest of my life? No, thank you.’ Amelia thought back to the previous week when she’d gently told Jackson she was going home. Despite him knowing theirs was only a holiday romance he seemed genuinely devastated when she’d told him she wasn’t willing to have a long-distance relationship. Amelia hoped he’d get over it – his backhand had gone downhill since then and she couldn’t bear it if he lost his job.
Amelia glanced at the TV screen that said her flight was about to board. ‘I’m not forsaking my education for anything – not even for Kilwin’s fudge-flavoured ice cream.’
‘You know, I always wonder how my life would have turned out if I hadn’t messed up my A-levels,’ Jo said thoughtfully. ‘I’d be at journalism college right now. I’d not know about the shady, shallow world of magazines, and I’d probably be having a whale of a time, living in digs and getting pissed every night.’
The girls stared at each other thoughtfully.
‘But you know what, I’m glad I didn’t go to university, and I’m even happier that I can stay out here for a bit longer while I find a place in Miami. Are you sure your grandmother doesn’t mind?’
Amelia shook her head. ‘Granny’s not coming over until November and she’s pleased to have someone staying in the condo when nobody is here. You’re welcome to stay until you sort yourself out. Are you sure you’re going to stick with Miami? Why don’t you move to New York and get a staff job on a magazine? You know you’re good enough.’
Jo shook her head. New York would have been too much like London, and after taking a long, hard look at her life
Jo knew she needed a break from the rat race. When she finally admitted to herself that she’d lost weight and was on track to being the thin, sparkly Joanne Hill that she’d always wanted to be, she imagined what her life would be like when she got back to London. The thought of going back filled her with dread, and she suddenly realised that apart from wanting to have her revenge on Garnet there was nothing to go back for. She had no friends, and no love life – even though she knew William liked her, he clearly didn’t have the feelings he once had for her. She was in love with him – and probably always would be – but he didn’t feel the same way, and she just had to accept it somehow. On top of that Jo knew her career in London was finished, and she was damned if she was going to go from being Olivia Windsor, darling free-lancer of Gloss, to being another nobody trying to kick-start her career again.
The problem, Jo thought, was that she wasn’t a nobody – Joshua Garnet had a personal vendetta against her – and she knew she’d not be able to get any work on a magazine in London if he could help it. Knowing how spiteful Joshua could be, Jo didn’t doubt his threat for a second. What she had to do, she decided, was keep a low profile. There was no way she wanted Joshua Garnet keeping tabs on her, as she needed an element of surprise when she finally gave him what he deserved, whatever that might be. New York would have been a difficult place to work as Joshua had contacts crawling all over Manhattan, so Jo decided to live in Miami while trying to freelance for some of the bigger women’s glossies. She thought it was time that Olivia Windsor tried making a name for herself in America.
Jo sighed and smiled at Amelia. ‘You know, the whole point of freelancing is that you can do it anywhere, so why would I want to leave Florida?’ She shot her friend a grin and looked down at herself. ‘After all, I do have a tan to keep up.’
Amelia gave Jo another hug, and they both heard the call for the flight back to Heathrow.
‘Let me know when you’ve got a place in Miami sorted,’ Amelia said, giving Jo one final hug before picking up her immaculate Gucci hand luggage. She refused Louis Vuitton on the basis that Victoria Beckham and Jordan both used it. She flashed Jo a dazzling grin.
‘I’m proud of you, you know,’ Amelia said. ‘You’ve come a long way, baby.’
Jo smiled, and she could feel tears pricking at her eyes again.
‘I know. And thank you for the wonderful summer.’
Amelia laughed. ‘Thank you for coming out to see me! Look, I’ve got to dash, but good luck.’ She started to walk towards the gate, and just before she got there she spun round and beamed at Jo. ‘Have a nice day, ya hear?’ she said in a perfect American accent.
Jo grinned at her and walked towards the taxi rank to get a car back to Longboat Key. She had an apartment to find and a career to begin.
Jo watched him gulp down a cold can of Coke as he leant against a doorframe. Beads of condensation dripped down the side of the can and Jo smiled to herself. Right in front of her was what appeared to be the original Diet Coke-break man in the flesh – he was the American Dream, with blond hair, piercing green eyes and broad shoulders that tapered down to a tight bottom clad in baggy Levi’s. If David Beckham had been raised on a ranch rather than in Essex even he wouldn’t be as masculine as this waiter was. He was pure sex. As a customer made a joke he let out a laugh and Jo shivered with pleasure. And even though he hadn’t noticed her amongst the bikini-clad blondes and gorgeous tanned guys that were hanging out at Ernie’s Famous Deli – a fashionable 1950s-style diner where it was rumoured Britney had ordered three chocolate milkshakes in a row – Jo knew he could feel her eyes on him.
Jo shifted in her seat restlessly and tried to eat her pastrami on rye. It was near impossible – she was on a high from being close to one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. He wasn’t William – he didn’t even come close – but when she’d tried to phone William at The Royal Oak to let him know she was staying in America she’d found out he’d moved on. He was out of her life for good, and she didn’t know how to deal with that sense of loss. Luckily there were some distractions.
‘Not hungry today, huh?’
Jo forced herself to tear her eyes away from the Adonis, and then shivered in disappointment when she saw the Latino-looking waiter standing in front of her with a bemused expression. His black hair curled on to his forehead and, while he was attractive, he had nothing on the blond waiter who had now begun to serve a group of giggling teenage girls. She shook her head and gave him a weak smile.
‘Lemme know if I can get you anything else,’ he said, and he gave Jo a megawatt grin before sauntering off. Jo followed him with her eyes and shook her head. She had to hand it to the South Beach serving staff – they really knew how to work the customers for their twenty per cent tips.
Jo had been hanging out at Ernie’s Famous Deli on Ocean Drive in Miami for the last few days, ostentatiously working on her pitches for Glamour and Seventeen, but mainly watching the waiter, who she’d first noticed catching rays on the beach. She’d never seen anyone like him outside of a Hollywood blockbuster – he was so good-looking he didn’t seem real. When Jo had tried to describe him on the phone to Amelia she could barely get the words out – he was as striking as Owen Wilson but as chiselled as Rob Lowe. He was Action Man, He-Man and Superman all in one. And as he served his customers with a winning smile he always, without fail, made girls blush and the gay guys grin. Nobody was immune to his looks, especially Jo.
Looks aside, Jo could tell he wasn’t the brightest man in South Beach. But she didn’t care. The intensity of her feelings surprised her – apart from William, Jo had never had a crush before, especially not one so carnal. It was almost as though by losing weight she had unleashed this part of her, and as the feelings swept through her body she surrendered to them. At night Jo imagined him stripping her clothes off and exclaiming that he had never been with a girl so sexy. Jo conveniently forgot about the loose skin and stretch marks on her stomach, that she still had cellulite and that her breasts had sunk low and lost their fullness. When she had the waiter, she thought, she would be somehow perfect. And, she said to herself with a tiny sigh as she heard him talking in his preppy, college-boy voice to a customer, she wouldn’t let him speak. They wouldn’t need conversation.
As he walked past her table, Jo quickly focused on the magazines in front of her and held her breath. Jo followed his back and bottom as he walked away, and she smelt a faint scent trail behind him as she breathed in. He smelt of expensive, musky aftershave and something else, something deeply masculine. Jo struggled to get a grip. She absolutely had to get some ideas down on paper, but the fluorescent lights on the art deco hotels outside made her head spin with excitement, and the blond waiter inside Ernie’s made her knickers fizz. She had lost control, and it was down to being in Miami. She had allowed her emotions and lust to take over, and it felt good. Damn good.
The moment Jo had stepped into Miami International Airport she had felt like she’d arrived home. To her, the horseshoe design of the gleaming airport represented good luck, and as she’d carried her luggage to a cab she couldn’t believe downtown Miami was so close, that she had picked the most perfect hotel. The Shore Club – the place to stay in Miami Beach – was everything Jo had fantasised about. The hot boutique hotel had a minimalist deco lobby complete with gorgeous, helpful bellboys, and Jo’s room had a smooth stone floor, 400 thread-count bedding, a huge powerful shower, Molton Brown products and the fluffiest white towels she’d ever touched. Jo sat on her bed and looked out at the ocean happily, and she phoned for a butler who brought her a raspberry martini. She did everything she could to stop herself fantasising about William sharing the enormous bed with her.
Jo had decided to hang out at the Shore Club for a week while she found somewhere to live, and she emailed Lucy at Gloss a short, curt note telling her where she was and suggesting that the magazine would benefit from a hotel review. Lucy had responded with an over-friendly, nervous email asking Jo how she was, but she also added
that Gloss would love a piece on the hotel with a restaurant review by Olivia Windsor. In return the magazine would pick up the bill, and Jo whooped with pleasure. She had Lucy wrapped round her little finger and was determined to milk her guilt for all it was worth. And if that meant Gloss – and more importantly, Joshua Garnet – picked up a $4,500 bill then even better. Jo had grabbed her purse and a copy of the Miami New Times and sat on the beach, organising appointments to see apartments on her recently purchased mobile phone.
The first apartment Jo had seen was so stunning she took it straight away without caring that there were roaches in the communal hallway and a tiny kitchen without an oven. The floor-to-ceiling windows had a fabulous view of the Atlantic Ocean, the furniture was low-slung and contemporary and, most importantly, the air-con worked. Jo paid for three months in advance and sat in her red and black living-room watching the sun setting over the Atlantic Ocean. She was, she thought, in heaven. If only the girls who had bullied her at school – especially Dominique – could see her now.
But despite being in a perfect apartment in what seemed to be a perfect city, Jo felt lonely, and she wondered if she’d find some friends to entertain her while she cracked the American freelance market. Getting commissioned on Gloss on her first day in Miami was only the start, and Jo was convinced she’d get some work on certain American magazines easily.
The only problem was, she was so exhilarated by Miami life that she couldn’t focus, couldn’t concentrate. The warm air brushed against her tanned skin like delicate kisses, and the scent of the city – the smell of sweat, sex and fun – made her feel like a carefree twenty-two-year-old, rather than the downtrodden girl who Joshua Garnet had walked over. And because of that she found she wasn’t in the mood to work. She wanted to live for the moment, savour the different flavours and sounds of Miami, and find happiness as an all right-looking plump British girl. The moment Jo had seen the blond man walking on the beach she knew she was a goner. She absolutely had to meet him, so she followed him to Ernie’s Famous Deli and became a regular who always ordered food but never seemed able to eat it because she was too in lust with their star waiter.