Mistletoe on 34th Street Page 10

  ‘Yes, were you not?’

  ‘No, I was talking about Scheana being pregnant. I thought … I thought you were saying that the baby had been an accident, but then you said you’d all been there when it happened and it was team-building and that you paid for it, and … ’

  I put my hands over my face. ‘And I told you I never wanted to see wood again. I meant wood, actual wood, like tree trunks and things.’ Oh this was horrible. If I thought I’d made a faux pas at the airport by forcing my colleague to picture me in a swimming costume, forcing a potential investor to visualise me ‘finishing’ was way way way way worse.

  I collected my thoughts (my dignity was long gone) and took a huge gulp of cocktail, eventually looking back up at Lara. ‘So. Scheana’s pregnant?’

  Lara thankfully was fanning her watering eyes, her blushes and laughter subsiding. She smiled at me, the misunderstanding very much forgiven, and took a deep breath. ‘I feel just awful spilling Sche’s secret, I shouldn’t have said anything, I just assumed you knew.’

  ‘No … I guess she’s not at three months yet.’

  ‘No, I guess not. It’s the reason she didn’t come to New York, so I guess I just assumed she would have confided in you.’

  ‘Yeah. Except, she didn’t come to New York because she broke her leg.’

  Lara shrugged. I didn’t know what was going on with Scheana, but we’d probably both done enough guessing for today. I took a breath and tried to rebuild what was now a strange, precarious relationship. ‘So, Lara, we’ve talked a lot about me, and Girls of the World, and Scheana’s body, one way or another. Tell me about you, how did you come to own your own business?’

  17 December

  1 week, 1 day to Christmas

  I’d had a funny night’s sleep, which was frustrating because my jet lag was making me reeeeeeeally want to snooze my head off, but my brain was all, hell no, we have to think about Scheana and what this all means. So I was lying awake early, and wondering if I should just give her a call and ask her what was going on.

  I shouldn’t ring her. If she’d wanted to tell me she would have; this was none of my business.

  But … why would she tell Lara and not me? Was there no baby? Was that just the excuse she gave Lara? I felt embarrassed about my meeting, and now I was worried her lasting impression of me was one of someone who wasn’t kept in the loop by her senior management, and someone who accidently went on about slipping around on wood during a business meeting.

  I blushed again at the memory. And after thirty more seconds of arguing with myself I thought, Bugger it, and called her before I could change my mind.

  ‘Hey, Liv, how’s it going?’ Scheana’s voice rang clear down the line.

  ‘Good, really well. We miss you.’

  ‘Awwww.’

  ‘How’s the leg?’

  ‘Good, yeah, ouchy … ’

  ‘So I had dinner with Lara last night,’ I said.

  ‘I love Lara! How was she? How did it go?’

  ‘I think it went really well, though there was one thing she said which threw me a little bit, and I didn’t know what she was talking about so I felt like a bit of a wally.’

  ‘Don’t be hard on yourself; I’m sure you did absolutely brilliantly.’

  ‘Well, she wondered how you were doing … and the baby.’ I paused, holding my breath. I hadn’t wanted to put Scheana on the spot, and I immediately wished I’d never opened my big gob.

  After a gap of what seemed like for ever, Scheana laughed, lightly. ‘Busted. So Lara let the cat out of the bag?’

  ‘She assumed I’d know. But, you know, I didn’t.’

  ‘I’m not at three months yet, so I didn’t want to talk about it with anyone.’

  ‘But you told Lara. We had this huge misunderstanding where she thought … Never mind, I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.’

  ‘Sorry to have put you in that position. I’ve known Lara a really long time, so I told her the truth. You I’ve known a long time as well, but if anything had gone wrong, and I’d lost the baby … I have to see you every day. I see Lara maybe twice a year. I was just protecting myself.’

  That made sense. I wished she’d told me, but I got it. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to say the words aloud if you lose your baby. I lightened my tone of voice. ‘So is your leg even broken?’

  ‘No. But my doctor advised me – medical stuff – that I shouldn’t fly during my first trimester. So I feigned being a big old weakling at the Fearless Freeze to get out of it.’

  I couldn’t help but let a laugh escape. ‘Did you even need to be on that stretcher at all?’

  ‘No,’ she replied. ‘I basically hung out at the start until you’d all gone round the corner, rubbed myself in mud and then went and made friends with the guys in the medical tent. It’s amazing what people’ll do for you when you say you can introduce their daughter to an astronaut.’

  ‘Who do you know who’s an astronaut?’

  ‘My daughter. She may only be five but it’s all she talks about; I know full well she’ll get there.’

  Scheana was such a goddess; I wished I was her daughter. ‘OK, last day. I’ve got to go – you take care and I’ll see you after the Christmas hols.’

  ‘And I’ll tell everyone about my baby then, all right? Can you not mention it to anyone else?’

  ‘Of course not. I might tell them your broken leg has gone gangrenous though.’

  ‘Fair enough. Keep up the good work, lady – I’m going to make sure everyone sees what a shining star you are when you get back. See ya, Liv.’

  ‘See ya, Sche.’

  All right. I felt better now that Scheana had put my mind at rest. She did trust me. Everything was fine, and now I just needed to go down to the conference one last time, have a final day of plugging Girls of the World, and then work would be overrrrrrrrrrrr – for two weeks. I was excited as a child on Christmas morning – or at least that’s how excited I assumed I was.

  I decided to dress in all-out spangles for the gala evening. I looked like a holly-jolly Christmas tree, and I was proud of it. This had been such an unexpectedly great few days that all I wanted to do was to continue sparkling. Did I tell you that Laverne Cox made a surprise closing speech today? She was fantastic – utterly inspirational, and though I was mildly miffed that Amal hadn’t showed, with George to carry her things, Laverne brought down the house. And tomorrow we got to go home! From tomorrow I would spend two whole happy weeks wearing pyjamas so this evening I was going to brave the cold and get my glitter on, once and for all.

  I exited my hotel room and sashayed my sequinned self down the corridor, knocking at Dee, Abigail and Jasmine’s rooms on the way. As I waited for them I tried to call Anne again. I’d been trying all week, and I’d had one missed call back from her – so I knew she was alive – but other than that we were simply disconnected.

  Abigail emerged first, looking pretty and more grown up than usual in a white shift dress. ‘Hi,’ she said shyly.

  I hung up after another no-answer. ‘You look nice,’ I said to Abigail. ‘Excited?’

  ‘About going home?’ She nodded, enthusiastically.

  ‘About tonight … ’

  ‘Oh, yes, definitely, sorry – it’s just that my boyfriend is going to meet me at the airport and we’re going to start Christmas festivities straight away. He says he’s going to surprise me with something really fun.’

  ‘What do you think it is?’ That was nice that he was meeting her at the airport. I would be taking the tube home – separately from my colleagues – so in a way I, too, was starting my Christmas festivities from the minute we landed.

  ‘I don’t know … ’ But she instinctively looked at her hands. Abigail was such a fairy-tale princess. I wanted to describe her skin as porcelain and her lips as rosebuds, but that is not the way a boss – however temporary – should describe her team members.

  Let me just clarify something: there’s nothing wrong with a girl w
anting to be a princess. There’s nothing wrong with a boy wanting to be a princess. What you want is up to you, it’s your life. It doesn’t matter to me, and if anyone else gives a flying f*** that’s their problem. It certainly doesn’t make you less of a feminist, less of a man, a bit gay, a loser, a dork, a geek, vain, slutty or a whore. So, princesses all over the world, go forth, be and do whatever you want.

  I climbed off my soap box and collected the rest of my team. Jasmine actually smiled, briefly, so presumably she’d cracked into the minibar in her room. Dee had the hugest smile on her face, and Ian, who would only meet my eye very quickly, looked very dapper in his suit.

  ‘I can’t believe we leave New York tomorrow,’ twittered Dee as we stepped from the hotel into the frosty breeze and waited for a yellow cab to come by. ‘It’s just such a fabulous place; I’d happily stay on an extra three weeks.’

  ‘Me too, I heart New York,’ I agreed. But I also love my PJs and my bed and my flat and my peace and quiet and my sleep.

  Dee huddled in close to me, linking her arm in mine. ‘Thank you,’ she said so quietly the words nearly flittered away down the street like snowflakes. ‘For yesterday. For what you did for my birthday. It was just lovely.’

  I smiled and nodded at her. ‘Merry Christmas-slash-birthday, Dee. OK, this is us!’ I said, breaking away from her and holding open the door of the taxi that had pulled over to the kerb. ‘Get ready for the best night of your whole life this week.’

  We walked into that ballroom like we were the Real Goddam Housewives of New York themselves, all blinged-up and ready to celebrate another great conference. By now, so many faces had become familiar, and a small part of me would be sad to say goodbye to them tomorrow.

  I was confident that the conference had been a success. I had reams of business cards and paperwork and follow-up actions and people to stay in touch with, and ideas for how to take Girls of the World forward. My plan for the plane ride home tomorrow was to get it all down in one place and make a plan. I love making plans.

  We gave ourselves over to mingling, laughing, quaffing Prosecco and chowing down on appetisers. I waved at Lara across the room, who was looking resplendent in both outfit and attitude. She excused herself from the people she was talking to and made her way over to me.

  ‘Olivia, I have been feeling just awful about letting slip yesterday and putting you in that position,’ she said, kissing me on the cheek.

  ‘Don’t apologise, I cleared it all up with Scheana – turns out her leg is fine, and her secret is still very much a secret.’

  ‘I also wanted to say thank you for the report you sent over last night – the numbers looked great. I was really impressed with the company, with you. I’ll be in touch with Scheana, but I wanted to let you know that I’m definitely going to see what Green PR can do for Girls of the World.’

  I could have tongued Lara right there. I could have peed myself with excitement. I could have passed out with relief. But I managed to keep it together just long enough to say a gracious thank you. When Lara left I took myself off for a moment to let the magnitude of what had just happened sink in.

  I’d done it. All my hard work had paid off, and I’d done it. Not only had I got us through the conference but Girls of the World was now one giant step closer to becoming an international company, and I’d helped make that happen. Well done, me, I thought. Well done, all of us.

  Smiling to myself, I found myself thinking of Kim. I missed her! Last year at this very gala we’d sneaked a bottle of Jack Daniel’s away and into the bathroom where we stayed, giggling, for over an hour, making huge, wild plans on what we would do when we moved out to New York together and got bit-parts in Gossip Girl (yes, I know that show ended in 2012). I missed my Kim. So I ordered a Jack Daniel’s and got out my phone.

  ‘Aloha!’ she answered, in full spirits. ‘Or whatever they say here. How are you, you big fat Noo Yoiker? I’m so sorry, you’re not fat.’

  ‘Haha, I’m very well thanks! Tired, happy, missing yoooou.’

  ‘I miss you too! Why don’t you fly out here instead of home tomorrow? Do you know England is snowy AF right now?’

  ‘No way.’ I cast my mind back to the weather report we’d all watched at Heathrow on the way out. ‘That snowstorm really hit? I just thought the British media were flying into their usual panic.’

  ‘It happened, sista; total white-out. So where are you right now?’

  I looked around me. ‘I am at the after-party, the grand gala. You know that meeting I had to go to, with Lara from Green PR?’

  ‘The big important scary one?’

  ‘That’s the one. Long story short, it went OK yesterday, other than a misunderstanding about group orgies. Anyway, Lara just told me they’re going to help represent Girls of the World!’

  Kim started shrieking and there were a lot of OMGs and fantastics before she calmed down.

  ‘And you want to know something else?’ I continued. ‘I’m wearing sequins and everything – people totally think I’m into Christmas.’

  ‘That’s my girl!’ Kim squealed. ‘Where’s Jon? Is he looking mighty fine in his tux?’

  ‘He’s … ’ I peered through the crowd; I felt like I hadn’t seen him all night. Then I spotted him, deep in conversation. He did look good. The jet black of the fabric made his hair and eyebrows look darker than usual, and the snow-white of his shirt made the skin on his neck and his hands look more tanned. And it fitted him really well. I cleared my throat, snapping myself out of it. ‘He’s talking to Dani.’

  ‘Dani? Who the hell is Dani?’

  ‘Oh, she’s really cool; she works with him at HeForShe. Wow – she looks stunning.’ The two of them looked good together.

  ‘What’s she wearing?’

  ‘A sort-of silvery long dress, very Charlize Theron.’

  ‘And what did you say you were wearing?’

  ‘A sequin dress.’

  ‘Wow – a whole dress of sequins?’

  ‘I know, but I look OK.’ I tugged on it self-consciously. I felt OK.

  ‘I bet you look phenomenal. Better than Dani.’

  I laughed. ‘It’s not a competition.’

  ‘Get off your high horse, you bloody feminist,’ Kim cackled down the line. ‘It’s always a competition, especially with people with names like Dani – that’s a very cool name.’

  ‘And she’s really nice as well. Like, not fake nice or sugary nice, like, I kind of wanna be your best friend nice.’

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘Only if you died or something.’

  Kim hmphed into the phone. ‘Am I that replaceable?’

  ‘That depends on what present you bring me back from Antigua. Anyway, why are we even talking about Dani and me being in competition?’

  ‘You started it. I just asked where Jon was and you basically said, “He’s talking to another girl waaaahhhh”.’

  ‘I did not.’ I turned away from Jon and Dani and walked back to our table. ‘So what did you do today in paradise, Vanessa Paradis?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to know, Jack Sparrow. We went snorkelling and Steve got a nosebleed, so then we went jet-skiing and he got another nosebleed. Poor lamb. But now he’s right as rain and dancing with a woman in huge feathers at the Creole theme night around the pool.’

  ‘And where are you?’

  ‘Resting my feet on a sunlounger. I’ve been dancing with feather lady for the past two hours.’

  ‘Are you having a good trip?’

  ‘I am,’ she answered, with what I could hear was a smile. ‘I love you heaps, honeybunch, but this man does make me happy too.’

  ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘You have a few hours left in New York. Can I say one thing? It’s just … I want you to be happy. If someone reaches out to you, maybe you should open up a little and let them in.’

  My heart responded with a lonely thump. I was happy as I was, I didn’t need a man.

  ‘It’s not about needing a man,’ she continued,
reading me like a book. ‘It’s about letting yourself enjoy someone who makes you happy. Not everyone’s a Kevin … Liv?’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, shaking myself from my thoughts. ‘All right, Bo Derek, you go back to your scene from 10 and I’ll go back to parading my be-sequinned body around New York in search of a man.’

  ‘I didn’t mean—’

  ‘I know you didn’t, and I’ll think about what you said. Or kill Steve so you can go back to being the Thelma to my Louise instead.’

  ‘Fair enough. Have a good night, cherub.’

  ‘And you, shnookums.’

  We rang off and I turned to survey the room, sipping on my Jack Daniel’s. My eyes rested on Jon, who was now listening to Dani talk. I looked at his face, a face that made me smile, and … I just … he really did look incredibly dashing in his jet-black tux.

  Suddenly, for no good reason, I imagined what it would be like kissing him and I closed my eyes. I imagined his face near mine, his hand on my cheek, his hair flopping onto my forehead. I imagined him growing serious, his chocolate eyes becoming more intense, but his features warmed by that slight, open-mouthed smile as he came in closer.

  ‘Hi,’ he said softly, and my eyes shot open.

  ‘Kissing!’ I yelped at him before I could stop myself.

  ‘Well, all right.’ Jon wrapped an arm around me and swept me into a low dip, hovering above me for a moment, our lips close while I tried to distinguish if this was actually happening or if I’d fallen into some strange jet-lagged dream in the middle of the gala. But within milliseconds he pulled me back up and chuckled, placing me gently back into a standing position and grinning down at me. ‘What the hell were you thinking about, standing there with your eyes closed?’

  ‘Um … ’ I non-answered.

  ‘I was talking to Dani and I looked over and thought you were about to pass out, then as I … ’ He started laughing. ‘As I got closer … ’ His laugh got louder. ‘As I got closer I saw you were licking your lips and I was like, “YES, Olivia, you enjoy those appetisers, lady!”’