Chapter Twenty
I t felt great to be in the same city as Vicky and I knew she would give me clarity on the Jimi situation, so I texted her a brief update and she called immediately.
‘Oh God. Don’t tell me you had sex with him?’ she asked.
‘Of course I didn’t!’
‘Did he try?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Did you?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘ Think? You either did or didn’t.’
‘We were drunk. I know I didn’t, silly.’
‘How do you feel about him now?’
‘I’m not sure. I know I feel bad.’
‘I feel bad for you too.’ She sighed.
‘You do?’
‘And Rob. Have you spoken to him yet?’
‘No, but I’d like to. If he ever phones me back.’
‘Oh, Am, perhaps you should try to talk things through with him before you jump into bed with a hot Brazilian.’
‘He’s American.’
‘Similar thing. What are you doing today?’
‘Prepping for the Baby Mom launch this evening.’
‘You must have an hour to spare. I’m going to kidnap you for a coffee date. Send me the address. I’ll ring when I’m parked outside.’
‘I’ll get an Uber to meet you, it’ll be quicker. I need a plan.’
Vicky and I arranged to meet for breakfast at Urth Caffé in downtown LA.
I managed to leave the house in an Uber before anyone else, especially Jimi, was up.
My mouth was dry, head spinning, stomach rumbling, and I couldn’t wait to see my best friend.
It had been six long months since we were last able to be together IRL.
The second I spotted Vicky at a table inside the café my spirits lifted. She looked exactly the same, except more tanned, and with a pink Prada Spectrum Bag across her body which I’d bet was definitely real and not one of the designer knock-offs I had bought her from Manhattan’s notorious Bag Man.
We hugged each other tightly for a whole minute and the woman who ran the place asked if we were long-lost sisters.
‘We may as well be,’ Vicky replied excitedly. ‘I love her like a sister.’
‘Chosen family!’ I seconded.
Over lattes and fresh blueberry muffins, the conversation turned to Jimi. ‘So, who is he?’ Vicky asked.
‘He’s Jose’s younger brother. He’s from Miami, he’s a DJ,’ I replied.
Vicky rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t mean his Instagram bio. I mean who is he really ?’
‘He does Mandy’s social media; he’s into meditation and practising gratitude.’
‘And?’
‘He’s nice to talk to, and he’s a calming influence compared to the whirlwind Mandy has become.
He always seems to be there when I’m feeling lonely, and recently that has been quite a lot.
It’s begun to feel as though so much time away from Rob is putting a distance between us.
Oh, and he’s unbelievably sexy and probably the most beautiful man I have ever seen in the flesh. ’
‘Oh Christ. This is bad.’
‘Bad? Do you think I’m a really bad person?’
‘Honey, you know me well enough by now to know I would never judge you. Secrets to the grave, right?’
‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’ I crossed my chest to belabour the point.
‘Let’s analyse this further. You didn’t actually snog him, it was just a kiss. Are you married?’
‘You know I’m not.’
‘Good. But even if you were, you’ve not done anything that bad, you do know that, don’t you?’
‘But I thought about it.’
‘Thoughts don’t count. Do you think you’ll marry Rob?’ Vicky asked.
This was a big question. Just a few weeks ago I would have immediately said yes. But now I needed to pause. I tried to picture it, as if I was looking down on myself from an unknown place, somewhere in the future.
There is me and there’s Rob. We look the same, only there are rings on our fingers because we are married.
My hairstyle is shorter as all hairstyles seem to become the older you get.
We are wearing sensible clothes. We have a house, a terrace on a London street.
It’s in Zone Five and at least a fifteen-minute walk from the closest Tube, because that is what we can afford.
There’s a buggy parked in the hallway, a baby gurgling on its playmat.
Music is playing, a bottle of red is open, and Rob’s lasagna is cooking in the oven. It’s still his signature dish.
‘I guess so.’ I sighed.
‘You don’t sound convinced.’
‘But I’m not un convinced.’
‘You don’t sound particularly enthusiastic about it.’
‘I think I am.’
‘ Think? Babes. It all sounds very adequate to me.’
‘It’s adequately happy.’
‘Amber, you’re twenty-six years old. These are the days. Don’t you think you deserve a little more than adequate ?’
‘Says the person who ran off to LA with a film director she barely knew, no job, and a hundred quid in the bank. It’s okay for you, Vicky, you’re adventurous. You’re a risk-taker. I’m not the same as you. Maybe it is enough for me.’
We were interrupted by my phone pinging as a succession of WhatsApp messages arrived from Blair. Seeing their name pop up startled me as it was really late in the UK.
Where are you?
Mandy’s just woken me up – she’s looking for you.
She says she wants to try the dress.
Seriously Amber – where are you?
Go back to the house asap!
She’s about to file you as a missing person. And I want to go to sleep.
After Vicky and I hugged goodbye, vowing to meet up again as soon as Vicky could get to London for a proper holiday, because one brunch really was not enough time together, I thought about our conversation a lot.
I thought about what adequate meant. Specifically, whether adequately happy is happy enough.
Even though it did feel as though that vignette in my mind about life with Rob might have seemed a little dull to her, it was comforting to me.
It was calm and I was happy. I mean, I could have been wearing better clothes, but it wasn’t all bad.
So, I kept coming back to the same conclusion: Rob.
When I got back to the house I crept inside, hoping not to bump into Jimi. The house was quiet, which made me panic. Surely Mandy wasn’t conducting her own search party for me?
Blair messaged: She’s gone to get a pedicure, back in an hour. I’m going to try to get some sleep now.
After all that.
I knew I had to speak to Rob. It was my sole mission for the rest of the day, and I would make sure it happened, even if I had to contact the Divorcee in the flat above and ask him to bash the door down.
It would be morning in the UK and there was absolutely no excuse for Rob not to pick up his phone on a Sunday.
‘Hey you, how’s LA?’ Rob’s voice was husky, as though he’d not long been awake. He gave me a fright because I was ninety-nine per cent sure he wasn’t going to pick up.
‘Oh. Hi!’ I hooted in surprise. ‘How are you , most importantly? I’ve been worried about you.’
‘Worried about me?’
‘Not answering your phone, going AWOL … I think I had reason to be a little concerned,’ I replied.
‘I’m sorry.’ He paused. ‘I knew you were busy with work, and I didn’t want to burden you with my woes.’
‘Woes?’ I asked concerned.
‘Oh, just work stuff, but it can wait until we’re together. Anyway, your soon-to-be brother-in-law made sure I was still alive last night. He took me to the pub.’
‘Rory?’
I had forgotten about that.
‘He gets out even less than I do. Let’s just say neither of us is feeling too sprightly right now. He’s on the sofa.’
‘The sofa? What did Lucy say?’
‘She’s the one who told him to stay! Something about “checking up on me”?’
I stayed silent.
‘I think she made a wise decision. Lucy’s got enough nausea to cope with,’ he said.
I giggled. ‘You have a point.’
‘Anyway, how are you doing? How’s LA?’
I filled him in on work so far, seeing Vicky, Mandy’s news, the shoot, and the clothes prep, intentionally ignoring any mention of Jimi.
Then we discussed plans for the weekend I would finish this job, and how he would book somewhere nice for us to go for dinner as soon as I was released.
Unbelievably, I was already a third of the way through the three months, though in some ways it felt as though I’d been living this weird existence for much longer.
It was lovely to hear Rob tell me he missed me. We were just about to end the conversation in my mind, when he said, ‘What are you wearing, baby?’
‘What?’ I asked.
There was a glint in his eye as Rob repeated the words. ‘I said, what are you wearing?’
‘Just a dress,’ I replied. ‘It’s warm – sorry about that! – I’m in sandals and this dress.’
‘Show me.’ He smiled.
‘Really?’
‘Now, please,’ he commanded. It was exciting to hear him order me to do something.
As instructed, I reversed the camera and used my arm as a selfie stick to show him head to toe. I was wearing a basic black shirt dress from Zara – nothing particularly special, which I slightly regretted.
‘Open a button for me,’ Rob said, with a sexy smile.
‘Okay,’ I muttered, embarrassed.
His eyes watched me closely. It was both presumptuous and thrilling at the same time. I knew how horny Rob could be on weekend mornings, especially with a hangover, and this was a good sign that he was missing my physical company.
I slowly moved my hand to the top button. It was a simple outfit in anticipation of fading into the background as I tended to Mandy’s fashion needs at the Baby Mom event later.
‘Now the next one,’ he stated, ‘and keep going.’
I now wished I was wearing something sexier, plus I couldn’t remember whether I had my ‘good bra’ underneath, let alone which knickers I’d put on this morning, though I was very sure they were unlikely to be a matching set.
This is Rob. He’s seen all of my most grannyish, comfy knickers before and he loves me regardless. Yet somehow it was as though we were looking at each other with eyes full of lust and wonder for the first time.
In silence, holding eye contact, I continued unbuttoning my dress until it was completely open, revealing my black lace bra and red knickers.
It could have been a lot worse. My breathing deepened, as did his, as he carried on looking at the screen.
His big green eyes moving around my body, his lips so kissable, as I showed him as much of myself as I could.
‘You look so beautiful. Now take off your dress and move over to your bed,’ he ordered, his voice soft and reassuring.
My skin had become covered in goosebumps. I felt vulnerable and sexy.
‘What shall I do now?’ I asked, enjoying the scenario, as I lay on the bed in my underwear, my head propped up on two pillows.
‘Place the phone down and take off your bra,’ he said. ‘Let me watch you.’
I propped up the phone on another pillow next to me, and did as I was told, slowly lowering each strap in turn, allowing one breast and then the other to show over my bra. They felt round and voluptuous. My nipples were hard.
‘Now lower your knickers slightly so I can see you,’ he continued.
I complied with his wish, losing my inhibitions because I felt so comfortable about letting go with him. This was Rob, my Rob.
‘Now look at me as you touch yourself.’
I held my breath, my pulse quickened, and I tried to keep my eyes on his as I pushed my hand under my knickers and began touching myself. I felt so turned on, so soft and silky.
‘I wish I could kiss you,’ Rob murmured, his face filling the screen as he slowly moved his tongue to his top lip. ‘I have missed the taste of you.’
‘Me too,’ I purred into the screen, desperate to be able to kiss him back.
I closed my eyes then, ready to float off on my way to reaching orgasm. The only problem was that Jimi’s face kept popping into my mind. He was so close to my face, and then he was kissing me. He was so real in my mind, I could almost feel him, smell him, taste him.
I tried to bat away the image of Jimi and replace him with Rob’s sweet, familiar face. I opened my eyes and could see that Rob was now touching himself too. Maybe if Rob was here with me, I would feel differently. I really wanted to. I squeezed my eyes shut again.
‘I love you baby,’ Rob murmured. ‘I want you.’
‘I love you too,’ I whispered.
After I had come, and he had too, we said a tender goodbye and I lay back on my bed. I was half elated and half in shock about the intensity of the call.
I just wanted to fall asleep wrapped tightly in Rob’s arms. The warmth of his body against mine. Yet my mind was tricking me again. I kept imagining the brush of Jimi’s curly hair against my face; his strong arms holding me close.
Tears crept up and spread to the back of my eyeballs in quick, hot succession. Why is my mind doing this to me?
It was only a matter of seconds before the floodgates opened. I wept like I hadn’t for a long time, as the enormity of what I was doing hit me. I felt horrible for Rob; even if it was mostly in my mind, it still felt like a betrayal. None of this was fair on him.
If my feelings for Jimi were getting stronger, I couldn’t carry on like this, being unfaithful, even in my thoughts.
I toyed with the idea of telling Rob about Jimi. Maybe honesty is best? I was still wrestling with this thought as I noticed it was getting late. Mandy would be back. I needed to get her ready for the event.