Lindsey Kelk 8-Book ‘I Heart’ Collection. Lindsey Kelk
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draw attention away from my riotous mane and flaky nose. Not too big an ask, then. ‘Not about here, admittedly, but that’s how I feel about New York. Maybe you needed to get away, give yourself a bit of a kick-start.’
‘And now I need something else.’ She gave me a wink and started on her fourth coat of mascara. ‘Seriously, I know you can’t make a move on James Jacobs, but what’s the protocol on me taking him for a test drive? I’ll give you all the details. Now that would be an exclusive worth reading.’
‘Jenny,’ I warned, slipping into my new bright yellow Phillip Lim mini-dress. I’d hoped the sunshiny colour would lift me into an LA frame of mind. So far, all it had lifted was my credit limit, but it was beautiful. ‘I don’t think it’s the best idea you’ve ever had. What about Joe?’
‘What about Joe?’ She pulled on what I recognized immediately as her lucky dress. A beautiful red, purple and gold Alice + Olivia silk number with a deep V-neck slashed to an empire line. The crossed straps on the back emphasized her flawless tanned skin and tiny waist while the flared skirt whirled around her as she moved. My God, she meant business. ‘If I’m not totally mistaken, Joe had his chance already. You should always aim for the top, Angie. If you don’t believe you’re worth the best, why will anyone else?’
‘Oh dear, Oprah Lopez is back,’ I said, slicking on some clear lip gloss and hoping for the best. ‘You know I am just as keen as the next man for you to have some empty, meaningless, hopefully utterly demeaning sex, but does “the best” have to be the man I’m interviewing?’
‘Of course not,’ Jenny took my shoulders and looked at me closely, assessing my make-up. ‘I mean, if James knows Jake Gyllenhaal I’ll be more than happy to trade up.’
‘That so wouldn’t be trading up,’ I said quietly, taking the new lip gloss she held out. ‘James is definitely hotter than Jake. And nicer too, I bet. And a better actor.’
‘Uh-oh, someone has a crush,’ Jenny nodded at the peachy gloss. ‘And what does Alex think about you trading up?’
‘Please …’ I blushed. I was so happy that she was talking to me again, it just didn’t seem necessary to tell her about the cheek stroking. ‘Not even a movie star would be trading up from Alex. You can’t compare hotness with love, can you?’
‘Wait, he’s said he loves you?’ Jenny stopped in her nose-powdering tracks. ‘When did this happen and why am I only finding out now?’
‘Well, no,’ I admitted. ‘He still hasn’t actually said it. I just meant that I wouldn’t swap what we have for anything.’
‘Angie, I wish you would just pick up the phone and say it,’ Jenny said. ‘What are you waiting for? You can say it first, you know.’
‘I hate it when you flip into Oprah mode,’ I mumbled, slipping on my ever-ready Louboutins. How did a simple red sole transform a strappy gold sandal from ‘nice shoe’ to ‘spend-a-month’s-rent-on-me-and-I-will-complete-you’? Those shoes and I had been through a lot together, including breaking someone’s hand; and even though they should remind me of some not-so-good times, the effect they had on my legs was magical. And therefore they would always be forgiven everything.
‘So that’s it? You just don’t want to say it first?’ Jenny pressed on. I knew she wouldn’t rest until she got an answer. And the cow could always tell when I was lying.
‘No,’ I sighed, perching on the end of the bed to fasten my shoes. ‘I don’t want to say it first, OK?’
‘It’s more than OK,’ she said, sitting down next to me. ‘But really, I already know you love him, honey. Everyone knows. Erin knows, Vanessa knows, I think even Scottie in the diner knows. So I’m pretty certain Alex knows.’
‘His name isn’t Scottie,’ I sighed. ‘So you think I should say it?’
‘No, what I’m saying is, you wear your heart on your sleeve, Angie, and maybe this time you wait him out.’ Jenny combed my hair back off my face. ‘Let him do the running. If he loves you, he’ll say it.’
‘If.’ It was hours since we’d spoken and I was starting to get really annoyed that he hadn’t called back.
‘Anything else you want to tell me, doll?’ Jenny asked. ‘Because if he has done anything wrong—’
‘No, no.’ I breathed in deeply and stood up. ‘Just me being paranoid. He’s just been hard to get hold of the last couple of days. Come on, let’s go and get you some.’
‘Hell, yeah.’ She kicked on her sandals. ‘But he can’t say he wasn’t warned. If I see so much as a tear out of you because of him, I will kick his ass all the way across the Brooklyn Bridge.’
‘I’ll have to get you back to Brooklyn first,’ I said, linking arms and pulling her out of the room. ‘You seem awfully at home here.’
‘Well, let’s see how I get on with your movie star,’ Jenny said cheerfully. ‘I can always fly back in his private jet if I really have to.’
Joe was waiting in reception, propped against the desk in tight black jeans and second-skin grey T-shirt, artfully stretched at the deep V-neck. He was clearly taking his rivalry with James very seriously. Even if James didn’t know anything about it. Jenny literally leapt out of the lift and scooted over, curling herself into the crook of his arm, her dreams of private jets and Malibu mansions forgotten for at least the length of time it took us to walk from reception to James’s waiting car outside.
I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or not, but he’d swapped the Hummer for the limo, much to Jenny’s delight. But nothing could compare to the look on her face once she was safely positioned between a slightly terrified-looking James and a slightly territorial-looking Joe. I hopped in next to Blake for the five-minute ride down to The Roosevelt, trying to pretend the awkward moments with both James and Joe had not happened. Trying and failing.
‘How come we have to drive five minutes down the road?’ I asked after the introductions were done. ‘It’s not terribly environmentally friendly, is it?’
‘Want to see what happens when I hang around Hollywood Boulevard at eleven at night?’ James asked, pressing the button to let down the blacked-out window. ‘Hi ladies,’ he called at a group of girls hovering outside Gap.
‘Omigod, are you …?’ The tall brunette closest to the limo dropped her drink, spilling Coke all over the pavement.
They peered inside at James and, honestly, even if he hadn’t been a megastar, I don’t think I would have been able to keep it together. His tight black shirt stretched over his ‘just finished a movie’ six-pack and his loose, straight-cut jeans couldn’t conceal his fantastic thighs. And even though he was sitting on it, I’d already had a sneak peek at his backside when he climbed across the limo seat. Not that I was looking.
‘Yeah, James Jacobs,’ he nodded, holding up a hand in a short wave. ‘Have a great evening.’
All three of the girls paled and stood open-mouthed for a split second as James buzzed the window back up. Then they broke out into an ear-piercing, glass-shattering scream. Before I could lean back into my seat, they were on the car. Actually on it.
‘Enough games, James?’ Blake sighed, as the limo began to move at a crawl, leaving the girls behind us. ‘This is all going to end up in her freaking magazine. Is that what you want?’
‘Does that happen everywhere you go?’ I asked, staring back at the girls standing in the middle of the street, clutching at each other just to stay vertical.
‘More or less everywhere,’ James laughed. ‘You didn’t notice it today?’
‘Only in the restaurant,’ I said, thinking back over the day. It was quite possible that people had been collapsing left, right and centre, but I had been so busy trying not to fall in love with James myself that my own mother could probably have passed out in front of