Chapter 14
14
KARA
‘Tell me something else, then, Josh – if I agree to stay… will you drop the studio and Corbin Jacobs as your clients and stick up for me instead?’
Kara waited for the answer, praying she was wrong about what it would be.
‘Kara, that’s totally unreasonable. You know that they’re my biggest clients. It would have a huge impact on my business and?—’
‘Stop. That tells me everything.’ Another question struck her. Today he should also have been getting ready to leave for their wedding, but instead, he was in full crisis-management mode. Would he have chosen work over her, even if it were a different situation? ‘Josh, if Hogmanay hadn’t happened, and there was some other huge scandal at the studio this weekend, would you still have left it behind and come to Hawaii today or would you have asked me to postpone our wedding?’
His hesitation and a flash of panic that made him blink before he spoke, answered her question without words.
‘Oh Josh…’ she groaned, as she shook her head, horrified. How had she missed this? How had she managed to carry on with life, blissfully unaware that he was so non-committal about their marriage? There was an instant realisation that made her want to weep. Had they both just been swept along with this whole thing? Drea had been the one to organise it all, because given her job, she had all the contacts and the vision of what it should look like. Kara and Josh had both been asked for their input at every stage along the way, but they’d both been happy to go with Drea’s choices. Somewhere in Kara’s mind, she’d told herself that they were just leaving it to the expert. But maybe she’d been sticking her head in the sand? Maybe their hearts weren’t in it. Perhaps she’d just been so carried away with excitement for Drea and Seb that she hadn’t stopped to think about whether it was what she’d really wanted too. And maybe Josh felt the same. After all, Seb and his brothers were in Hawaii right now with a couple of friends having a mini-stag celebration and Josh had been invited but had declined, because he didn’t want to step away from work for any longer than absolutely necessary. None of Josh’s family were coming. And it had taken five blooming years for him even to propose in the first place.
What had they been thinking? Oh God. It was a mistake. Maybe their whole relationship had been a mistake. And getting married this week would have been the biggest mistake of all.
‘Babe, I’m just being honest. I want to marry you, but I’d have been okay with doing it in a registry office, just you and me. The Hawaii thing… that’s because you wanted it and I was happy to go along with it, but?—’
‘But you could take it or leave it.’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘You didn’t have to say it.’ There was no air left in her lungs. It was all gone, sucked out of her by the absolute knowledge that they’d been sleepwalking their way to the altar, followed by a massive kick of self-reproach for being so damn stupid. She’d heard all that she needed to. ‘You get to play hero for your client, and now you don’t have to take time out of your busy schedule to go to Hawaii. Win-win for you.’
Her shoulder strained as she pulled the strap of the heavy, bulky holdall on to it, then grabbed her other bag, turned around and walked straight out of the door, downstairs, and got into her car, before taking off down the street as fast as the crunching snow beneath the tyres would allow. Only when she knew she was out of sight did she pull over, rest her head on the steering wheel and then let out a roar of blind fury and pain so loud it made a little man walking past with a Yorkshire terrier in tiny snow boots jump.
When she managed to get some air back into her body, she pulled her handbag up from the footwell and rummaged for her phone. ‘Hey Siri, call Ollie.’ He was the only person she wanted to speak to right now. He hadn’t been having the easiest time with Sienna over the last year or so either, so she knew he’d understand. The two of them could just make the trip to Hawaii together, drink too many pina coladas, dance on the beach and make each other feel better – just like they’d been doing all of their lives.
There was a pause while Siri got her act together, then the next thing she heard was an all-too-familiar voice. ‘Hi, sorry, I’m busy. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.’
Bugger. What was he doing right now that made him too busy to answer the phone? Sometimes she felt like she spoke to Ollie’s answering machine more than she did to the real person. Although, she couldn’t exactly claim to be an ace communicator over the last couple of days either. Not that that was unusual for them. They could often go back and forward for days trying to nail down a moment when they were both free, especially when they were in different time zones. LA was the worst. The eight-hour difference there usually meant he was free when she was sleeping, and she was free when he was working. But around once a week, when they did manage to co-ordinate a time slot, usually when their partners were out – when Sienna was at the theatre and Josh was either at work or the gym – that’s when they’d sit on a FaceTime call for four hours and talk through every detail of their week, all the latest celebrity goss, what they were having for dinner, and a hundred other inconsequential things that amused them.
If Josh was home, though, it used to drive him mad, especially if it was, say, a Sunday night and he wanted her all to himself. A rebellious, pissed-off little voice in her head piped up to remind her that she wouldn’t have to worry about that any more. And another rebellious, pissed-off little voice in her head pointed out that she never threw a tantrum when Josh spent the night at the gym, or locked in his home office working, or out at some swanky client event, so why did she have to be there when he snapped his fingers? Well, now she didn’t. And much as that broke her heart, her rebellious, pissed-off inner self knew for sure that she was doing the right thing.
She didn’t bother leaving a message, figuring Ollie would see her missed call anyway. Instead, she put her foot down and set off on the drive back to Drea’s flat, giving herself a pep talk the whole way. She could do this. She’d never been the type of person who felt she needed a guy to exist, so it wasn’t as if she was scared to be alone. Maybe it was time she had some independence and could do whatever she liked for a change. Perhaps this was a decision she should have made a long time ago, because Josh wanting everything on his terms was nothing new. Years ago, he’d even spat his dummy out about her going to New York for Ollie’s wedding. Her best friend! And she was only away for a few days.
Before she realised it, a glance in the rear-view mirror told her she was almost smiling as her mind went back to that night. In fact, it must have been… She did the calculation… six years ago yesterday. Wow. This was the first year she hadn’t spent the anniversary of that date thinking about that night and the lovely, lovely Zac. Although, granted, she was a bit busy being pathetic and feeling sorry for herself yesterday. That had to stop. Part of her wished that Josh had found out what had really happened that night because he’d have called their relationship off back then and she wouldn’t have wasted another six years of her life. Zac struck her as the kind of guy who would definitely have backed her up no matter what. And so, of course, would Ollie. Yet the man who was supposed to be her person couldn’t do that. Well, sod Josh Jackson.
Feeling a nugget of strength and resolve grow in her gut, she pulled into the parking space outside Drea’s flat and then lugged her holdall up two flights of stairs. The lift was from the 1970s and she was deeply suspicious of it, so she preferred the stairs, even if they made her hamstrings scream. When she reached their door, she dropped everything and fumbled for her key before practically falling over the threshold as she dragged her bag in.
Sweating, she puffed her cheeks out with relief when she got inside and closed the door behind her. When she got her breath back, the first thing she did was open the holdall and take out the thing that mattered most: the pic of her, Ollie and Drea with their mums, and put it on the console table on the hall.
‘I thought I heard you come in,’ Drea said, padding through in white furry slippers, wearing a white terry robe and a turban with two large rollers sticking out of the front. She spotted the new frame on the table. ‘Aw, I love that picture. Right, I want to know every detail of every single thing that’s happened since you left here, but you need to tell me in less than five minutes because I’m not organised yet.’
She turned back to Kara and suddenly stopped speaking. Kara watched as her sister’s gaze went from her head to her toes, taking in her sagging shoulders and her red-rimmed eyes. ‘Oh no, what happened?’ Drea asked, with an edge of wariness.
Kara slumped back against the wall. ‘How long have you really got? It’s a pretty big story and five minutes won’t cut it.’
Drea checked her watch. ‘The cars are coming at four o’clock, so that’s an hour and a half from now. That means I’ve got approximately…’ She paused and made the motion of doing a calculation in her head. ‘Ten minutes max, because I’ve still got about three hundred things to do. Tell me you’re still coming.’
‘I’m still coming.’ There was no wavering on that. Her own wedding was off, and her life was a shitshow, but she wasn’t going to let that spoil Drea’s big day. Time to park her own feelings and just get on with celebrating her sister and Seb, and then in a week’s time, when she got back, she could fall apart and try to process everything that had happened. Only then, maybe, could she begin to work out what she wanted and where she should go from here.
‘Okay,’ Drea said, ever pragmatic, ‘Let’s get everything ready and organised first, and then you can tell me the whole story in the car. But just tell me the headlines now – did you get your job back?’
‘No.’
‘And did you see Josh?’
‘Yes. Wedding is still off.’
Drea wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tight. ‘I’m so sorry, hon.’
‘It’s okay. I’m fine.’ She wasn’t. Although, she was relieved that she wasn’t going to have to recount the whole sorry saga right now. Before Drea could ask anything else, she gently disentangled herself and changed the subject. ‘Do you need me to help with anything? I feel like it should be chaos here today, although I know you’ve got everything planned to perfection.’
Drea raised one eyebrow. ‘I’ve been planning this day, and tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, for months…’
That threw Kara back to her earlier thought. Drea had been planning it for months. Even before all the drama, Kara had barely given today a second thought, other than making a mental note not to forget the dress that was hanging in the Vera Wang bag in Drea’s wardrobe. ‘And I’d only be in the way?’ Kara asked, smiling despite the misery that was seeping from her pores.
‘Exactly. I’ve got this. I’ve got everything. You just need to be ready, packed and good to go at four o’clock. That’s all I ask. And then I want to hear everything.’
Kara glanced behind her sister. ‘Did Mum come back here after the hairdressers?’
‘No. She’s meeting us at the airport.’
It was difficult to hide her relief. Much as she loved her mother, Kara couldn’t face the inquisition or the inevitable discussion and judgement her mother would have about every aspect of the situation.
‘Okay, well, I’m allowing myself to have one last bout of indulgent self-pity, so I’m going to go cry in the bath for an hour, and then a new positive, optimistic me will be out and ready for four o’clock.’ Or maybe she’d just go lie in soapy subs and reminisce about the lovely guy she’d met at the airport once upon a time. At least that option wouldn’t make her eyes puffy.
Kara followed Drea down the hall, then turned left towards the bathroom, while her sister turned right, into the bedroom. Usually, she’d pour herself a glass of wine, maybe grab a slab of Dairy Milk to go with it, but right now, she just wanted to be neck deep in coconut-scented soapy bubbles.
‘I meant to ask…’ Drea popped her head back out of the bedroom doorway. ‘You haven’t seen my black Louboutin stilettos, have you? They’re not in their usual slot in my dressing room.’
Shit. Caught. How could she have forgotten to put them back? Hoping for the best, she went for nonchalant innocence. ‘Erm, I might have borrowed them to try on with my Hogmanay dress. I think they’re under your bed.’
Drea gave her a glare that would suggest she’d rather Kara had stolen a vital organ. ‘You’d better not have worn them.’
Nonchalant innocence again. ‘Of course not. I’d have broken my ankle in those shoes.’ Or some misogynistic tosser’s foot. Same difference.
Drea seemed to have bought that because she switched to a new topic. ‘Oh, and Ollie called earlier. He’s looking for you.’
Kara nodded, pulling her jumper over her head. Every minute spent fully clothed in this hallway was a minute less in the bliss of a hot bath. ‘I just tried to call him on the way here – straight to voicemail. I’ll try him again when I get out the bath.’
It was with a massive exhalation of relief that she twisted her long red hair up into a high bun, secured it with a scrunchie, then lowered herself into the vintage white, gold clawed tub a few moments later. Yessssss. At last. Peace. Relaxation. Soothing of the soul.
‘Hey Alexa,’ she said, powering up the sound system that was fitted in Drea’s sanctuary of a bathroom. She’d miss this. Even if she got a job that paid the same as her last one, she’d be lucky to afford a bog-standard, gadget-free one-bedroom or studio in the city centre. Not that she cared. As long as there was room for her bed, her desk and a couch, she’d make it work. ‘Play “Kara’s Badass Women Playlist”.’
She’d programmed that in when she used to live here and then added to it over the years whenever she hung out with her sister. Beyonce. Gwen Stefani. Madonna. Kelly Clarkson. Alicia Keyes. Stevie Nicks. Tina Turner. Pink. Blondie. Shania. Miley. Dolly. Taylor. Aretha. Ariana. Adele. No matter how the playlist was shuffled, whatever came on would make her feel better.
The gods of the sisterhood were listening, she decided, when the opening bars of ‘Respect’ blared from the speaker above her head. Yes. She might be unemployed, homeless and newly single, but at least Aretha was telling her she was right to have standards.
One after one, the others reinforced the message. Kara’s shoulders had finally relaxed, and she was in a momentary state of chilled-out bliss, when there was a thundering bang on the door, then it swung open so fast she yelped, slipped under the water and almost choked.
She came up spluttering, to see Drea in the doorway holding up her phone, eyes bulging out of her head, face stricken.
‘What? What is it?’ Oh dear lord, the flight must be cancelled. It was the only explanation Kara could think of that would evoke this kind of reaction.
‘Ollie!’ Drea yelped.
‘What about Ollie? He’s on the phone?’
Drea shook her head. ‘No. He’s on a whole big pile of crap from that bint he’s married to.’
Kara grappled to understand what was going on, but Drea cut right to it, turning her phone around so that Kara could see the screen. There was Sienna. On a flight… Sucking the face off Van Weeks.
Another video. Sienna losing her shit at someone who, granted, was completely invading her privacy by filming her. But then, if Sienna hadn’t been up to no good in the first place, there would be nothing to see.
‘Oh shit, shit, shit! Ollie!’ She went to grab her phone, but her hands were soaking. ‘Drea, can you call him, right now.’
Drea immediately reacted. She dialled, then held the phone against Kara’s ear. Straight to voicemail again. Fuck! This time she left a message.
‘Ollie! I’ve just seen the video. Oh God, I’m so sorry. Where are you? I’ll come to you right now. I’ve got you, pal. Call me back.’
She jumped up, and for once, Drea didn’t give her hell for splashing water everywhere. Just handed her a towel and held out a hand to help Kara climb out.
She tucked the towel around her, as she stood dripping on the bath mat, both of them staring at the phone screen. Nothing. No call back. No text. Nothing.
‘Fuck it, I’m going to his flat.’
Drea had a slight objection. ‘You might want to put some clothes on, unless you want your arse to be all over the internet within the hour. Although, it might get you a new boyfriend.’
‘You’re hilarious,’ Kara said, in the most sarcastic tone she could muster.
She was drying her body like it was a Fiat 500 in the last bit of a car wash, flapping the towel around her bits, when Ollie shocked them both by replying.
I’m on way to airport. Meet me in usual lounge.
What. The. Hell. Was. Going. On?
The sense of urgency switched on for the first time all day. ‘Get a move on, Drea,’ she blurted in her sister’s direction. ‘We need to get to the airport. And I might need your Louboutin stilettos in case I meet Sienna fricking Montgomery.’