I wish I could get this seasonal glow that everybody else seems to have right now, but it’s weird, knowing that I won’t actually be here for Christmas this year. Mum has changed venues for this wedding so many times that I’m still not 100% sure where it’s going to be. She started off by saying that it was in Los Angeles and over the course of the last six months it’s moved to a ranch in Texas, onto a boat somewhere off the Keys, a casino in Vegas and now we’re back to good old L.A once again. Wherever the wedding takes place it’s almost a dead cert that the weather will be better than English weather at Christmas. Forget the notion of thick snowflakes, we’re more likely to get rain and winds. It’s a little romantic, watching the red-cheeked shoppers bustling along Oxford Street, although I’m already sick of listening to all those damned Christmas songs that they drag out year after year. I feel so desperate for the shop assistants - they must be all Xmas’d-out by the time they lock up for 2 days at 5pm on 24th December. But I love London at Christmas time - the outdoor ice rinks, the Christmas tree at Trafalgar Square, the toy shops, the smell of hot chestnuts at every street corner. Makes me feel all tingly and childish and I love it. It would just be complete with that special guy to share it all with. Thankfully it won’t be an issue this year, as I’m jetting off to US with Jennifer in a couple of weeks time. Maybe it’ll make me enjoy next Christmas all the more? Maybe, by getting away from it all this year, I won’t feel so lonely at this ‘family’ time of year. Ironic, isn’t it!
*
Rob took a deep breath as he clicked the red button on his mobile to disconnect the call. His credit card was still in his hand as he went to the kitchen and poured himself a cold beer from the fridge. He’d taken the elk by the antlers now. He loved this time of year and knew, from the many late night chats with Sophie, that she did too. But was this going to be too much? Would she think he’d completely taken leave of his senses? It had started out with him wanting to ask her to go with him to see the tree going up in Trafalgar Square, and then he’d begun to stress over how to ask her. He didn’t want to sound like one of those corny chat up lines that she’d been receiving by the sackload. And so his imagination had started to work overtime and he’d really pulled all the stops out now. The truth for Rob was that he knew that he was in love with Sophie and he wanted her in his life for a long time. He’d never made any moves on her, but how he’d wanted to over the last few weeks. There’d been many an evening when he’d been laying on her sofa chatting to her as she’d been curled up in her armchair wearing her shorts and vest pyjama combo as she’d sat, completely free of make up and with her mussed up hair, and they’d talked for hours about their earliest memories, their favourite pet, how they felt about their parents or siblings and what their ultimate ambitions in life were. He had so wanted to sit up and lightly grasp her wrists and pull her across to him. He’d so wanted to lay her down beside him and cup her face and kiss her deep and slow on her pretty mouth. There’d been many nights when she’d called him after another horrendous date or a ‘situation’ with the paparazzi and he’d shot round to her place and had poured her some chilled pinot grigio and listened to her moan or cry or even shout about the stupid promise she’d made to stay single for a year. She’d looked fabulous some of these evenings - he’d particularly liked the black taffeta skirt and shiny black shoes that made her legs look overwhelmingly sexy. He’d been closely involved in her life for long enough now to have seen the ups and the downs of Sophie Regan, along with her quirks and her irritating habits - like relentlessly interrupting and talking in her sleep - to know that she was the woman that he wanted. He wanted her long term. And dare he even begin to think it, but for the first time in his life, he could see himself getting married at some stage far away in the future.
Lowering himself onto the kitchen chair slowly he drank from his pint glass, ignoring the frothy white moustache that the drink left over his top lip. He looked down at the brochure on the table and couldn’t quite believe that he’d just paid over £600 to hire the log cabin in Scotland for the long weekend. But he had. It was helped by the new contract that he’d just signed with a high-profile Tour Management and Personal Security company that were well reputed media favourites. They’d signed him exclusively to work with their fleet of prestige cars and it was guaranteed to be a nice and regular earner for him. Now all he had to do was to, somehow, persuade Sophie to go with him. He wanted to show her the whole cosy Christmas deal. It was bad enough that she was going away for the holiday season, but made it all a whole lot cheaper. The same log cabin over the Christmas weekend would have set him back over £2000. He wanted to snuggle up in front of the huge open fireplace and toast marshmallows and drink hot chocolate with her. He wanted the whole dream. He wanted her to go to her Mum’s wedding in America with him firmly planted in her mind and in her heart.
*
It’s a surprisingly bright morning for early December and I’m determined to get my head together in preparation for this wedding. Jen has promised me that she’ll stay with me until the wedding and then when we return to UK in early January, she’ll spend a couple of days getting her stuff together and book her flight back to Ireland. I’m rather miffed with the whole S.O.S call from her. She arrived looking great and has become rather a social butterfly since arriving here. I’m convinced she’s still partial to the odd ‘line’ most days a week, given her hyper personality coupled with the paranoia and moodiness, but I’m not her mother! She can do what she likes. I’m feeling so breezy this morning that I even feel brave enough to face Starbucks, brazen to the suggestion that Adrian might be in there. If there’s ever a morning I’m up for a Soy Chai Latte and Skinny Lemon Muffin, it’s today. And I’m even going to buy one for Ellie too. I’m still puzzling over Jen’s motives with Rob and as I stand in the short queue (no Ade, I checked!) I can’t shake off how I was shocked, the other day, to find Jen and Rob having a cosy heart-to-heart around my kitchen table. I felt a shocking twinge of jealousy and it was, well, shocking! I still can’t quite figure out whether it was jealousy because Rob was there for Jen (and I wanted him only to be there for me!), or jealousy that I think Jen is interested in him. I know that she only ever goes for men with money, but there’s no denying that Rob is charming and cute and rather sexy too.
God!
Did I just say that?
He is?
Now, I’m more confused than ever!
Oh no. And here’s Adrian. I now have to stand in this queue with him behind me. Which means that he can check me out and I can’t do the same to him.
Although I have noticed that he has a drop-dead sexy black shirt on today which really makes his shoulders look defined and his chest rather broad.
Hmmmm.
Rob?
Rob who.....
Chapter Forty Seven
Chapter Forty Nine
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment