Chapter 1 #2
I watch him grab his suit jacket and leave.
I return to looking out into the grey skies above.
We’re on the forty-ninth floor, so I have views that stretch miles around, but today I can just see the tops of the buildings peeking through the foggy morning.
There is something that’s comforting about this weather.
In a matter of weeks, I’ve gone from loving my Monaco summers, partying in Mayfair at the weekends, wearing skintight dresses and stiletto heels to spending my time in an oversized jumper, not leaving the apartment and craving the rain.
It feels like somebody came in the night and switched my brain for somebody else’s and my life has completely changed.
I finish my coffee and put the pot on for another cup. I find my phone on the sofa and pick it up to text Lauren. My phone feels alien in my hand; I’ve only charged it in case my mother or Greg needs to call me. I select Lauren’s name and begin to write out a message.
Hey Lauren,
Hope you’re OK. Sorry I haven’t been in touch. I’ve been taking some time out.
Fancy meeting for coffee today?
Harri x
I press send and head to the bedroom to get myself in some sort of state that I am able to leave the apartment.
I sit at my white dressing table which is full of products.
Skincare for every part of the body. Enough makeup to kit out an entire bridal party and all the latest hair utensils that you can dream of.
I sit for a minute looking in the mirror.
My once tanned complexion is now pale, my long dark hair looks even darker than before and just hangs down loosely over my shoulders and back.
I don’t want to fake tan, I don’t have that energy, so I opt for a paler foundation that matches my Snow White skin and brush mascara through my long already black lashes, emphasising my deep blue eyes.
I pop some blush on the apples of my cheeks to give me a bit of colour, hoping it’ll disguise the fact I’ve been a hermit for weeks.
It’ll do. I head over to our walk-in wardrobe which has rails and rails of clothes on either side.
At the back is a full wall just full of my prized heels and designer bags.
I remove Greg’s giant cream jumper from my body and stare at myself in the mirror.
I’ve gained weight for sure, but it’s given me shape, curves.
I look softer. I look healthier than when I kept my body under a hundred and twenty-five pounds.
All so I could look good in photos and be the envy of those around me.
I pick a baby blue Oxford shirt, some slightly stretchy blue Levi’s and my trainers that I use for the gym.
I add my tote and matching sunglasses to hide my face in case I bump into anyone I know.
I pop on a navy jumper for extra comfort and head back into the kitchen to have my second cup of coffee.
My phone rings. It’s Lauren. I pick it up and put it on to speaker so I can carry on pouring my coffee.
“Harri!” she screams in her girly high voice. “What have you been doing?”
“Hey, Lauren, just taking some time out of the dream life, you know?” I chuckle hoping it throws her off any scent of anything being odd.
“Hmmm, I bet! People have been talking, girl. Rehab is the biggest rumour in the circle. I shut them down obviously. If you were doing Charlie, you’d have told me, right? Or is it more hardcore? Heroin? Well, at least we know now how you stay so skinny,” she pokes playfully.
“It’s not drugs, Lauren. I’m just having some time out before the wedding.” I can feel myself wanting to snap at her but I reign it in.
“OK, if you say so, but look, darling, I need to go shopping, why don’t you join me? Greg told me you’ve been an absolute recluse. I’m in the car. I’ll get the driver to swing by yours and get you.”
I go to answer but she cuts me off.
“Great, Martin will be there in ten.” She puts the phone down.
When did she speak to Greg? Oh well. Typical Lauren, she never takes no for an answer and is used to getting what she wants.
Her father is an oil tycoon from Texas in the US, and her mother is the former Miss Universe champion, so you can imagine the gene pool.
Lauren has never worked a day in her life and instead chooses Instagram to display her luxury lifestyle.
Lauren is as close as I can get to a good friend in this social circle without being used for money.
I twirl my hair up into a claw clip and cover it with a silk scarf along with my sunglasses. Hopefully, Lauren will just think I’m hungover and not hiding anything – that my appearance is changing as much as my mind.
I head out of the front door and down the lift to the reception.
As she said, her black Range Rover pulls up outside and her driver, Martin, steps out and opens the back passenger door for me.
I slide in and Lauren is talking on the phone.
She raises her finger at me letting me know she’ll be done in a minute.
She’s beautiful, inherited from her mother, but enhanced by plastic surgery.
She has glossy blonde Barbie hair that curls down her huge fake boobs.
She’s wearing a little black dress with black Louboutins, her camel trench coat lying by the side of her.
She also has her sunglasses on, but she most likely is actually hungover.
She finishes on the phone and places it in the middle of us.
She pulls her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose and looks me up and down.
“Oh, Harri, I didn’t realise it was this bad.” She tuts.
“Wha-What do you mean?” I adjust my jumper to cover myself a little more.
“Well, when Greg said you were having a blip, I didn’t think it was a whole fucking disaster movie.” She smirks and pushes her glasses back up her nose with her long nails.
“When did you speak to Greg by the way? He didn’t mention it.”
“Darling, he probably didn’t want you to worry, but he is worried about you. We saw each other in Mayfair the other week.” She smiles, showing her very white teeth.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” I shut her down.
He hadn’t mentioned running into Lauren, which is odd, but he probably just forgot. He’s so busy things slip his mind all the time.
“Let me put you in touch with some of my people. I’m sure we can get you on a list for some lipo and fine line treatments by the weekend.” She giggles, looking me up and down again. I hate I’m on the butt of her jokes instead of with her on them. It doesn’t feel good.
“I’m fine, Lauren. I’ve just been taking some time out, that’s all.” I turn to look out of the window. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Well, girl, you need to take some time back in. We’re young, hot, rich and have no responsibilities. People would kill to be in our position. We’re going shopping and by the time we’re done, you’ll be feeling better.” She pats my shoulder in a half-arsed way.
I hope so. If it means I can stop feeling so lost, I’d happily press a button and go back to my old life.
We pull up at Sloane Street and jump out of the car.
We head into a few different shops, and I painfully try to let myself enjoy it.
I take a few things to the dressing rooms, clothes I would have been giddy about trying on a few weeks ago, but now I stand there, staring at the reflection feeling nothing but annoyed at how stupid they look, how expensive they are and what a waste of time this is.
Lauren, of course, buys bags full at each store, swiping her father’s credit card without a care in the world. We head into a lingerie store next and sit on the silk-lined couches while the shop assistants bring us champagne and options to look at.
“Why don’t you get something for Greg?” She winks. “It might do him some good seeing you in something a little less old.”
“How do you know I’m wearing something old, Lauren?” I shoot her a look.