Chapter 1 #3
“Oh, I know.” She gets such joy out of making others feel rubbish about themselves. “You’re wearing jeans. Shopping. And don’t get me started about what’s on your feet, Harri.”
“Greg’s not just in it for the underwear.” I sip my champagne and slide my feet under the pouffe in front of me.
“Of course he is, don’t be so naive. It’s what all men want, and you have one hottie of a man.
I’d be careful he doesn’t get bored.” She rolls her eyes and picks up an emerald green lacy thong.
“I’ll take this please, and the matching bra.
Do you have a babydoll that goes with it?
” She sips her champagne and watches the assistant go to the rails to find what she wants.
She looks back at me. “I’m just being honest, Harri.
You need to get over this little ‘issue’ you’re having and get back to your life.
If you wanted attention so badly, why don’t you do an OnlyFans or something? ”
I want to punch her in the face. Before I would have laughed with her at the misfortune of someone having a crisis, but now all I can think is: what a bitch.
What a clueless, stupid, spoilt bitch she is.
The realisation that something doesn’t feel right within me has opened my eyes to the majority of my friends and family and how they just don’t have a clue about anything but money.
Even myself. I’m no angel, that’s for sure.
“I told you I’m fine, Lauren.” I stare at her.
She smirks and nods at me, sipping her drink. “If you say so, honey. Anyway, you have three days until my daddy’s charity ball and you know you have to be there. If you miss that, people will really start talking for sure. You’ve never missed one since we’ve been best friends.”
We’re friends because our fathers play tennis together. When they realised that they both had daughters the same age, that was it: scheduled play dates and forced friendship. In this world, everything in your life is planned for you for the benefit of family wealth and appearances.
“Are we best friends, Lauren?” I question her, feeling pretty annoyed with her actions.
She looks at me and places her hand over her heart like the victim of a crime. “Wow, catty! Of course we are.”
“You haven’t been to visit me, or text or called me to see how I am since I’ve been off work,” I remark.
“Oh, Harri, you’re so dramatic. I’ve been busy.
I had a shoot at Venice Beach, then I was visiting my family in Houston.
Mommy had a dinner with the Miss Universe winners, so I attended that.
I’ve had brand deals and all sorts. It’s actually been rather stressful, and you haven’t text me, asking how I am. ”
She’s got me there. I haven’t. She’s exceptionally good at twisting words to fit her narrative. Learnt from her father no doubt. You’ve got to be good to cover up all your oil spills into the ocean.
My shoulders drop as she has me dead to rights. Annoyingly. I try to play it off. Sometimes it’s better to just let things go, right? “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just been a bit rough.”
“It’s OK, I forgive you. Just stop being such a boring bitch and get back to being the Harri we love.” She laughs.
She turns her attention to the assistants and pays for her shopping on her father’s credit card again.
Lauren’s parents pay for Lauren’s love through unlimited American Express.
They always have. She most definitely has complex parental issues which might explain why she’s so cold to everyone around her.
Martin carries the bags to the car and one of the shop assistants helps her with her coat.
“Anyway, darling, it’s been great, but I have a dinner date, so need to go home to change.
I’ll see you at the charity ball. Please wear something fabulous, and some Spanx.
” She laughs and waves her hand to gesture for Martin to open the car door for her.
“Want us to drop you home? The weather looks ghastly.”
I linger back from the car. “Actually, I might shop a little longer.” And any more time with Lauren may turn me into a homicidal maniac.
She shrugs and air kisses my cheeks before getting straight onto her phone and sliding back into the back of her blacked-out Range Rover. Martin drives off down the puddled tarmac and out of sight.
The rain is still lightly coming down from the grey clouds above.
I don’t have an umbrella with me or a coat, but the cool air feels nice on my skin.
I start walking. I walk down towards the Thames and follow it on a path home.
The city is still busy but with the downcast weather it’s quieter than usual.
I take my time, taking in what surrounds me as I walk.
The sound of the river rushing downstream, the slow breeze through the orange and brown leaves in the trees and the sound of birds in song.
It’s beautiful. I’m a good hour away from the apartment but wearing trainers means I can actually enjoy it.
A luxury I haven’t let myself afford before.