Chapter 8 #2
‘So, have you talked to Nicholas?’ she asks. ‘Is he gonna stay in Iceland?’
‘Hmm, not sure. It’s early there and he hates—’
‘Mornings,’ she says, talking over me. ‘You’ve said – many times.’
Her tone speaks volumes – she’s not his biggest fan.
Actually, she’s not a fan at all, which is partly his fault and partly mine.
His, because he’s never been to LA, which she considers unforgivable and also means they’ve never met.
And mine, because sometimes I complain about him to her.
She’s my sister from another mister, so I tell her everything.
Except what his kink is – that would be going too far – and, besides, he doesn’t really have one.
‘Anyway,’ I say, getting on with it, ‘that’s not the SOS.’ I press my lips together, so I don’t accidentally bite through the bottom one. Megan may be my best friend, but I’m about to confess something big and saying it out loud will make it real.
‘The volcano’s not the SOS?’ she asks.
‘No.’
‘Okay. Oh! Are you breaking up with Nicholas?’
‘No! And if I was, you sound way too excited about it.’
‘What is it then?’ she asks, and I ignore that she didn’t apologise. She bites into something crunchy and munches in my ear, and I almost chicken out – this is harder than I thought. But there’s that whole ripping off the Band-Aid thing, so…
‘It’s the other Nicholas James – Nick,’ I blurt out.
‘What about him?’ she asks with her mouth full.
‘Well, we were stuck in the same suite last night because the hotel’s fully booked, and they gave us this roll-away, but it was shit, so we ended up sleeping in the same bed.’
‘You what?’
‘It’s a California king and we put four pillows down the middle of the bed – we didn’t touch or anything.’
‘But?’
‘How do you know there’s a but?’
‘Laney.’
‘Okay, fine. But this morning, when I got back from getting coffee, he was in bed and he didn’t have his shirt on and—’
‘Oh my god, you’re into him.’
Is it better or worse that she’s the one who said it out loud?
‘Yeah.’
‘Delaney Rae, what the actual fuck?’
‘Please don’t middle name me right now. I already feel like shit, and I’m so confused. I mean, he’s not even my type – he’s yours!’
‘He’s a hot, forty-year-old Latino lawyer?’
‘Not that one. Your other type – superhero beefcake.’
‘Holy shit…’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, definitely don’t share a bed with him again – Nicholas would freak if he ever found out.’
‘We won’t. Nick’s moving to another hotel this afternoon.’
‘Good. And maybe just avoid him till you get off Capri.’
I scrunch my nose, even though she can’t see me. I could avoid Nick, but then I wouldn’t get to do all the cool things True North has lined up for us.
‘Laney?’
‘Um…’
‘You don’t want to.’
It’s not even a question – that’s how well she knows me.
‘No.’
‘Is it more than physical attraction?’ she asks.
Is it?
‘Look,’ she says before I respond, ‘I’m not going to tell you what to do or what not to do, but I will say this – if you’re having feelings for someone else, then maybe this thing with Nicholas has run its course.’
This thing. As in the two-year long-distance relationship I’ve worked my ass off to keep alive.
‘Maybe,’ I say.
‘Just don’t do anything rash.’
‘I thought you weren’t going to tell me what to do,’ I tease, deflecting with humour – oldest trick in the book.
‘As if. And before you do anything else, talk to Nicholas – see how that goes. The guy could be moving heaven and earth to get to Capri. You don’t want to be swooning over Superman, then have Nicholas show up out of the blue.’
‘I wouldn’t cheat, Megs.’
‘I know you wouldn’t.’
Megan promises to hug the kids for me and says goodbye. I check the time. I should call Nicholas now, but what does it say that I’m dreading talking to him? Megan’s words run through my brain: maybe this thing with Nicholas has run its course.
I down my untouched espresso, even though it’s now cold, then make the call.
‘Hello,’ Nicholas answers, his indifferent tone stinging a little.
There was a time when the sound of his voice would make everything fall away and my body flood with warmth.
After meeting at a bar in London on a rainy Friday afternoon – I was taking a break from scouting locations and he was killing time between a wedding ceremony and the reception – we only had a few days together before I had to fly back to LA.
So, this is how I fell in love with him – talking on the phone.
We tried video calls a few times, but the intimacy of having his voice in my ear… that sealed the deal for me. And we talked about everything. Our lives are so different, especially our upbringings, so there was a lot to say.
At first, anyway.
‘Hi,’ I reply – without adding the usual babe. ‘How’s Iceland?’
‘It’s fine. Only you’re not here,’ he replies.
Is he just saying that? I wonder, the seed of doubt that Megan planted starting to germinate.
‘Same,’ I say.
‘I saw on the news that you’ve escaped the ash cloud.’
‘Barely, but yes. How is it there?’
‘Clear skies. Pity about the giant band of unflyable air between us.’
‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘What are you up to today?’
‘I’ll probably explore the city a bit.’
‘Nice.’
‘Oh, I meant to say – the bloke who’s with you on Capri – I had no idea this trip was for his wedding. His brother and sister-in-law are here, and her parents, and her sister… I mean, what a cock-up, eh? Far worse than what’s happened to us.’
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Nick’s wedding? Why the hell didn’t he say anything?