Stars and Swipes (The Dicktionary Club #2)

Chapter One Ella

Chapter One

Ella

Three fucking days stood between us and New York.

This was a city I’d fantasised about since my teenage years, when I was convinced that one day, I too would strut through Manhattan like Carrie Bradshaw in my designer heels, balancing love, career and friendship with a group of rich, overly moisturised men chasing me around with a classy cocktail in hand.

In reality, my teen era was a long way from cosmopolitan chic.

I mostly spent it wrapped in a hand-me-down Berghaus, courtesy of my cousin Andrew, clutching a bottle of Merrydown at the graveyard with the local neds, and the only people chasing me were the polis every other weekend.

Carrie had couture, and I had cheap cider and a jacket that seriously stank of wet dog and Mayfair.

(The cigarettes, not the classy London borough.) But now, finally, twenty years on, my fantasy was becoming a reality.

The Big Apple, the city where dreams come true, wallets go missing and everyone pretends not to notice the rats, was to host our most important meeting yet.

Zola, Katy, and I had been summoned to Flirtify’s headquarters in Times Square to pitch The Dicktionary Club website to the board of one of America’s biggest tech companies.

Some people go to New York to find themselves, but we were going to flog a website full of dicks, or rather, the dickish men who were ruining the dating scene.

But, with only a few days left until we jetted off, we were stuck, confused and completely distracted.

I sighed again, aimlessly scanning through notes I’d written but I couldn’t seem to take anything in; the scent of burnt espresso and the aroma of restless ambition clung to the air around us.

My laptop glowed beside the clatter of empty lipstick-stained cups and my thoughts were in a total shambles, my heart pounding with each anxious beat.

‘Have you mentioned anything to Philip yet?’ Zola asked, slurping her matcha and gazing at me over our Starbucks litter. That was the real secret that pressed against my chest. Not the pitch. Truthfully, I hadn’t given the pitch as much focus or attention as I knew it deserved.

‘Yeah, Ella, how did he take it? He must have been to New York a thousand times with his work,’ Katy added, scrolling through her phone.

‘I . . . er . . . I haven’t mentioned it to him yet. He’s been so busy, it hasn’t come up.’ I shrugged, knowing my friends could sense my apprehension.

‘Jesus Christ, Ella! What the fuck are you waiting for?’ Zola blurted.

What was I waiting for? Honestly, I wasn’t sure.

The only thing The Dicktionary Club had brought into my life up until now was chaos, and, OK, enough money to pack in my job, start up our own PR company, and pay my mortgage for a good few months.

But still, I couldn’t understand why I felt so anxious about telling Philip about the New York trip, but something had been stopping me.

Maybe I was just trying my hardest to enjoy how nice things were between us before I dropped a giant fucking grenade in our path.

I wasn’t sure how Philip would react. Things had been perfect since he forgave me for creating the alleged man-hating website that had nearly ended our relationship before it properly began – not to mention getting him plastered over a double-page spread in the Daily Record, slandering him as a self-centred womanising shagger, all thanks to me.

Now that everything was settled between us again, I didn’t imagine Philip would be thrilled with me working on something tied to a project that had almost ruined his reputation, his career and our relationship.

I couldn’t really be blamed for trying to keep the peace for as long as possible, could I?

‘I just know how much he hated The Dicktionary Club site to begin with, and I promised him it would never be part of our lives again. I know he disagrees with everything it stands for, and honestly, it doesn’t sit well with me either after everything that happened.’

When my words were met with silence, I glanced up from my laptop at the faces of my two friends and saw them trying hard not to smirk.

‘Guys, seriously? It’s not funny!’ I insisted, playfully slapping both their arms. ‘I can’t believe you’re laughing!’

Zola burst into giggles. ‘You know, it is a tiny bit funny. We caused so much turmoil.’

Katy finally put down her phone and joined in. ‘And drama! I live for the drama!’

I shook my head. ‘Exactly, it was awful! And we lost our jobs because of it.’

Zola paused, then let out a deep, evil cackle.

‘Zola!’ I gasped, but her laughter was infectious and I joined in, still feeling a weight of guilt in my chest.

‘Come on, losing that shitty job was the best thing to ever happen to us,’ Zola said, ‘but let’s face it – we need money right now.

Finding PR jobs on our own is tough! I have seriously been considering googling the market for farting in jars.

But if this meeting goes well, I won’t have to!

We could make an absolute fortune. Plus, it’s New fucking York, Ella! ’ she squealed.

‘Oh my God, I wonder what Tinder’s like over there!’ Katy’s eyes lit up. ‘I bet it’s full of fit blond guys with rock-hard abs!’

Zola shook her head. ‘Somehow, I doubt we’d be invited to pitch The Dicktionary Club if it were. I think the Americans have the same problem as we do . . . The Yanks’ dating scene is full of wanks.’

‘That’s actually a catchy name for the new US website if we have to rebrand,’ I added. ‘Wanks versus Yanks!’

‘Or the Yankee Wank Tank?’ Katy suggested.

‘Wankee Doodle Dandy,’ added Zola.

We laughed together, then went back to looking over our notes, making an effort to take our business seriously.

‘How did Curtis take the news about New York?’ I asked Zola, knowing things had been rocky with her and her fiancé since she was finger-blasted down Ashton Lane by a Spanish hottie she’d met through The Dicktionary Club.

Zola paused, then shrugged. ‘I didn’t give him the opportunity to have an opinion. I told him I was going to New York with the girls, and he grunted.’

Katy smiled sarcastically. ‘You guys really make relationships seem so worthwhile. I seriously can’t wait to meet the one.’

‘Oh, come on! There’s no such thing!’ Zola shook her head.

‘But, El, we need you to be fully committed to this. It’s a life-changing opportunity, and we fucking deserve this, OK?

When we created that website, something told me to copyright it for a reason!

And yes, shit went down in our personal lives, but clearly it’s more than a good idea if the Americans want to use it!

We have to revisit this, give it our all, then really run with the idea.

Get your head in the game!’ She flicked her long braids.

‘Come on, seriously, what happened to that big ball-buster, taking-no-shit-from-any-man-ever Ella? You’ve changed, girl.

Tell Philip you’re going to New York and be done with it. ’

I sighed, ‘I have not! I’m still the same. Maybe I’m just a bit more conscious about not pissing off my man! Look, I am going to tell him, and I’m sure he’ll be fine.’ I shrugged it off, but inside my stomach churned with dread.

We finished off our emails, and I headed home, Zola’s words echoing in my mind.

Deep down, I knew she was right, even if I would never admit it out loud.

But over the past few months, I had changed.

I’d become a softer, more sensitive version of myself.

But isn’t that what people do when they fall in love?

Philip was caring and kind. And he had a dick more powerful than the Elder Wand.

Still, I did find myself prioritising his preferences over my own, sometimes without even realising it.

He never seemed to ask me questions about my work or how my business was going, either, yet we’d spend half the day chatting about the vital decisions he has to make in his.

Granted, since we started our own company, the PR work had been slow, and most of my days were filled with sprucing up local businesses’ social media accounts and charging a one-off flat fee.

There wasn’t anything exciting going on in my work life compared to the hospitality sector he was taking over.

But I did make sure to prioritise him, and his needs.

All of a sudden, I was happy to watch football most nights, instead of my usual Gossip Girl reruns.

And, I mean, just the other day in the supermarket, I automatically picked up an overpriced loaf of shitty sourdough instead of my usual Warburtons toastie loaf because I knew Philip preferred it.

Shit. I walked up the stairwell to my West End flat slowly.

My mind raced, as I started to wonder if I had lost myself a little more than I was aware of.

If relationships were about making compromises, then surely Philip would understand why I had to try and revisit The Dicktionary Club.

Why did I care so much what he thought? New York should be the most exciting thing to ever happen to me.

I should be singing about it from the rooftops.

Fuck, I should be working on this pitch day and night to make sure I nailed it.

So why wasn’t I? Instead, I was lying in bed at night, wondering how to tell Philip – worrying about his opinion.

Would he be angry? Mad? Or would he even dump me?

He was the first guy I’d opened up to in years; the thought of not having him, or of starting all over again in my mid-thirties felt like an unbearable gut-crushing ache.

Philip loved me, and when I was with him, I really felt the intensity of that love.

He would bring me flowers and compliment me a hundred times a day.

I didn’t feel insecure or worried that he would run off with someone else.

He was reassuring, steady and understanding.

Maybe I had built this whole thing into some giant problem when it didn’t have to be.

I reached the door of my flat and pushed it open, hearing something fall on the other side.

Philip’s jacket had fallen off the peg. I picked it up and clutched it close to my chest, inhaling his fanny-fluttering scent that I loved so much.

Why was I so worried about this? I shook my head and let out a small laugh, making my way over to the sofa and stretching out.

I wanted to go to New York. I’d always dreamed of the sightseeing, the shopping, the incredible people, of tucking into those huge American portions of smoked-salmon bagels and Little Italy pizzas, guilt-free.

Not to mention the work side of things – the bustle of the city and walking down sidewalks lined with glorious skyscrapers.

As I envisioned it all, I felt butterflies flutter in my stomach for the first time in a long while.

This opportunity was huge for us, and Philip was a businessman; he would understand that.

It suddenly wasn’t just about a life-changing meeting – it was about doing something for myself again, pursuing the kind of career I’d always wanted, and proving I could still be the bold badass I was before Philip Khan.

My head had been distracted, focused on how to be the perfect girlfriend, and my career had taken a kick to the side. But why can’t I be both? I wondered.

I could feel anger simmering inside me – not at him, but at myself for building this into something much bigger than it had to be.

I realised all this anxiety and worry was on me – I didn’t want to lose him.

I thought about Philip, his kind eyes, his warm body and how he also prioritised things for me.

How he scheduled date nights in his calendar: he’d drive to Glasgow from meetings in Edinburgh just to see me, then head back.

Fuck, the other day he emptied out one of his gym’s stock of salted caramel protein powder because he knew I was running low.

Philip was the perfect boyfriend; he’d not even question my trip to New York. Perhaps it was just as Zola said, trauma from The Dicktionary Club launch had made me apprehensive. But we’d come so far since then, fuck, that part of our lives was well and truly in the past.

I felt a tiny glint of optimism spark inside me. Tonight, I’d tell him, and we’d celebrate this opportunity together. What the hell was I so worried about?