Chapter 7
‘Good morning,’ Andy says brightly.
‘Morning?’ I reply. I pull my phone away from my ear to check the time. ‘It’s just after midnight here.’
‘Which is in fact technically morning,’ he replies. ‘It’s almost lunchtime here.’
The time difference between London and Sydney is making it feel so much harder for us to catch up.
‘So, how’s life without me?’ he asks. ‘You sound like you’re having fun…’
‘Interesting – but too much for my liking, and I’m not sure about fun,’ I reply. ‘How’s corporate lawyering down under?’
I attempt the accent when I ask the question. I fail.
‘Good,’ he says with a laugh. ‘Hectic though.’
‘I don’t think we’ve ever spoken so little since the day we met,’ I point out.
I feel a little flutter in my chest as I say the words. I’ll be so glad when he’s back, when everything is back to normal.
‘No, I think you’re right,’ he replies. ‘Well, fill your boots, because they’ll be calling me in for another meeting soon. What’s new?’
‘Well, JJ is a woman on a mission,’ I tell him with a sigh.
‘To get you a book deal?’
‘To get me a man,’ I reply. ‘If she put half as much effort into selling my book as she is selling me, I’d be rich by now. Stupidly I made a sort of… bet? I guess? With her. Maybe it’s more of an agreement than a bet.’
‘Did you sign a contract?’ he asks with a laugh, always in lawyer mode.
‘No, but as per the terms of our friendship, it’s best I play along,’ I reply. ‘So, that’s where I’ve been tonight, on a date.’
‘You’re home early, in that case,’ he says. ‘Didn’t go well?’
‘Nope. She set me up with an author – a successful one, actually,’ I tell him.
‘Not your type on paper?’ he jokes.
‘Well, he’s a crime writer. We met at a nice bar, had some drinks, but the more we chatted, the faster it went downhill.
I thought it was bad when he was making fun of romance novels but then, when he started talking about his own work, and his passion for writing about the murder of women, I knew he wasn’t the guy for me. ’
‘He talked about the concept of women getting murdered on your first date?’ he checks in disbelief.
‘Yep,’ I reply. ‘More specifically, about how he’s writing about a crime writer who lures romance writers back to his place, to murder them – notably a blonde called Britney – and then he asked me back to his.’
‘I was going to say that’s not how you treat a woman, but it got so much worse as you went on,’ he replies. ‘What was JJ thinking?’
The words hit somewhere I don’t expect. My throat tightens for a second.
‘You okay?’ he asks.
‘Yeah,’ I say lightly. ‘Happy to have escaped with my life.’
‘Did you at least get dessert first?’ he asks.
‘Maybe next time,’ I reply. ‘I promised her I’d give one more guy a go.’
‘Well,’ he starts, pausing to slowly puff air from his cheeks, ‘I’m not sure she can set you up with someone worse. Maybe…’
He sounds about as confident as I feel.
‘She’s determined,’ I reply. ‘She asked me about everything I look for in a man. I told her I want a romcom hero and she reckons she can deliver. I was hoping a tall order might make her give up.’
‘Well, I wish you and your billionaire prince all the best,’ he replies.
‘Here’s hoping,’ I say.
‘She should ask me,’ he suggests.
I fall silent for a second.
‘What… to… date me?’ I reply, confused.
He bursts out laughing.
‘Hey, I asked you on a date the day we met and you said no,’ he reminds me – not that I need reminding. ‘Of course, I’m glad, or we wouldn’t be such close friends now.’
‘Well, that’s true,’ I reply. Exes are suitably and swiftly removed from all social media and blocked when and where appropriate.
It was so many years ago now but I remember it like it was yesterday.
I was getting over a break-up when Andy asked me on a date.
I told him I wasn’t ready but that we could be friends – don’t people always say that?
But we stuck with it, we became friends, we moved in together when we both wound up flat-hunting at the same time, and the rest is history.
‘Okay, so what did you actually mean?’ I ask.
‘That JJ should ask me about your type,’ he replies. ‘I know exactly what kind of man you’re looking for.’
‘Go on then, enlighten me,’ I say.
‘Well, you do like men who read, although I don’t necessarily think one who writes too is right for you,’ he begins.
‘Men who can keep up with your sarcasm. Men who don’t talk over you.
Men who understand that chocolate is a food group, caffeine can be consumed at all hours of the day, and that you’re not being dramatic when you say a book is your new favourite.
I think you’re the kind of girl who finds something new to fall in love with every day. ’
For a few seconds I don’t know what to say. I think he’s nailed it.
‘Anyway, do we know anything about your next guy?’ he asks, moving things along before I can respond.
‘Nope, I think she’s still working on it,’ I reply. ‘But I’m expecting big things.’
‘You’ll be happy then,’ he quips. ‘Well, know that I support you, even if I’m doing so from the other side of the world currently, and if you need me to have a word with JJ, I can.’
‘Someone’s feeling brave,’ I tease.
‘Did you hear the part where I said I’m on the other side of the world?’ he replies. ‘I’m a bit brave.’
‘But just a bit.’
‘Exactly,’ he confirms with a chuckle.
God, it’s so nice to hear his voice.
‘I wish I was there,’ I say. ‘Are you somewhere beautiful?’
‘Well, right now I’m in the office,’ he replies. ‘And I’m not important enough to have a big window, but the biscuits are good.’
‘You will remember my Tim Tams, won’t you?’ I say, getting my priorities straight. ‘A kind I’ve never tried before ideally.’
‘Mission accepted. Don’t worry, I’m on it,’ he says with a laugh.
‘Good, because that’s the only reason I agreed to you abandoning me home alone all this time,’ I reply.
‘Are you setting traps for burglars?’ he asks.
‘If I need to set traps for anyone, it’s JJ, to slow her down a little,’ I reply. ‘A Porn Star Martini on the pavement, a handsome man on the stairs…’
‘Yeah, I guess that would stop her on the stairs for a few minutes,’ he says.
He chuckles, then goes quiet for a moment. I can hear faint background noise on his end – muffled voices, a door opening and closing, footsteps maybe. It’s night-time here, so it’s quiet. It makes him feel very far away.
‘Serious question, though,’ he says, his tone changing. ‘Are you okay? Like… really?’
I hesitate. There’s so much I could say. About my book. About the dates. About how much I miss him, because it’s so weird without him.
‘I’m…’ I start. ‘I’m fine. Stuck in edit hell. Mildly traumatised by men. Nothing beyond the usual.’
He laughs softly.
‘I hate that my absence has sent you into the arms of a potential serial killer,’ he jokes.
‘You could have been the plot twist, the one who showed up to fight for my honour, to save me from his evil clutches,’ I point out.
‘Whit, I promise you, if you ever need saving from the evil clutches of anyone, I’ll be right there,’ he says, and jokes aside, he sounds like he means it.
Warmth fills my chest as I find myself smiling widely. I can always rely on Andy to cheer me up.
‘Anyway, are you okay?’ I ask. ‘Let’s not make this all about me.’
‘Actually, yeah, I have a lot to tell you,’ he replies. ‘In fact, I don’t know if now—’
A male voice on the other end of the line interrupts him. ‘Andy! Mate, we’re starting in five!’
‘I’ll be right there,’ Andy calls back, his voice quieter as he holds the phone from his head briefly. There’s a rustle, then he’s back in my ear. ‘Well, that’s decided that,’ he says. ‘I’ve got to go. Another meeting.’
‘Go. Make rich people even richer,’ I insist.
‘I’ll call you properly – soon,’ he says. ‘Promise. We’ll do a full debrief. I want to hear every detail about these dates. And your book. Especially your book.’
‘Okay,’ I say. ‘I’ll… try not to get murdered in the meantime, I guess.’
He huffs a laugh.
‘Yeah, please don’t get murdered. I’d miss you,’ he tells me.
So touching for such an odd statement.
‘I’ll try,’ I say.
There’s a tiny pause. Just long enough for it to feel like there’s something unsaid hanging in the air.
‘Speak soon later, Whit,’ he says.
‘Yeah. Have a good day.’
‘Bye. Bye, bye, bye…’
I smile to myself. I always find it so charming when he does that, when a call ends, and he rapid-fires the word ‘bye’, making it quicker and quieter each time until he hangs up.
The line clicks dead.
I lie on my bed for a second, staring at nothing, waiting for… I don’t know what.
Andy is Andy. Reliable, reassuring, always able to make me laugh. He’s my comfort blanket, my emergency contact, the man who knows exactly how I like my tea and always reads my chapters even when I tell him he doesn’t have to.
My phone vibrates on the bed next to me so I grab it. It’s JJ.
JJ
Date two is on – this one won’t kill you, promise. Details to follow. No chickening out this time.
Wow, she works fast. It’s impossible not to be impressed, even if I would probably rather not go on another date so soon after this one. It’s going to take me a while to get in the mood for it again, after such a disastrous one, but it doesn’t sound like I have a choice, does it?
I need to remind myself that this is all material, all fodder for my romcoms – I suppose the more hilarious my love life is, the better it is for business. It’s all so inspiring professionally, just completely demoralising personally.
At least I’ll have one more terrible date to add to my notes. One more story to tell Andy when he’s back. One more example of how impossible it is to find a leading man in a world full of villains and unknowable side characters.
One more date and then that’s it. Either it’s great, or I’m officially taking a break from men, and JJ has no choice but to support me.
If I don’t get a book deal out of this, I’m not going to be happy. In fact, I’d rather have the book deal than the man.
Perhaps that’s where I’m going wrong, eh?