There is no going back, no matter how much you miss them.
(And, yes, sexual fantasies count. Do. Not. Go. There.)
I’ve always loved the thrum of activity in Divorced Diva HQ – AKA the ground floor of my Chelsea terrace house. There are only four of us, but even so, it has the kind of anticipatory energy that makes it feel like something incredible could happen at any moment.
It was a Tuesday morning when that ‘something incredible’ was a life-changing phone call. I was at my desk, deep in thought, deciding which of a dozen photos to use for the ‘thought of the day’ post.
To the uninitiated, it might have seemed like an easy decision – the photoswereremarkably similar. But this wasn’t my first rodeo – nor my second, nor third. A detail as simple as the angle of my chin or the look in my eyes could convey a multitude of meanings, and these factors combined resulted in precise, targeted messaging.
Chin up and to the left, eyes slightly narrowed: I have chronic PMT and will end you at the slightest provocation. Do. Not. Mess. With. Me.
Chin up and to the right, eyes lit up: I slept brilliantly and can handle any challenge you lob at me. Bring. It. On.
Empowerment or encouragement – which would land best?On Tuesdays, we typically favoured empowerment, a strategic way to get through the mid-week slump that comes between Motivation Monday and the lead up to the weekend.
Sticking to that strategy, I chose the don’t-mess-with-me photo and started on the caption. I’d typedOwn your powerwhen my PA, Ruby, interrupted.
‘Ally, I’ve got Julian for you.’
My thoughts came to a screeching halt. Why on earth was Julian calling? My eyes went to my Divorced Diva desk calendar, and I did a quick calculation. Julian and I met for lunch on the last Wednesday of the month, every other month. If he was calling to make plans, he was more than five weeks early. No, this was something else.
‘Thank you, Ruby,’ I said with a smile. I picked up the desk phone and spun my chair to face the wall. ‘Jules…’ I said in greeting, dragging his name out.
He chuckled. ‘You sound wary.’
‘When it comes to you and unexpected phone calls, always.’
I paused, knowing Julian would fill the silence. He hates silences.
‘Well, right to it then. I have a favour to ask,’ he said in his crisp public-schoolboy accent.
Julian is big on favours – I suspect half of his dealings, business or otherwise, are the giving and receiving of favours.
I mentally sifted through our ‘favour ledger’. Did I still owe him for the introduction to the head of guest services at The Dorchester? No, I’d returned that favour by putting in a good word for him with Adele’s people. Sure, it was the week before she announced her hiatus, but he didn’t know I knew that. It counted and my debt to Julian had been cleared.
‘Let’s have it then,’ I prodded.
‘I need you to come to Aetheria. This Friday. Only for five days – maybe six.’
‘Aetheria?’ I asked.
‘My island. In the Aegean. The one I bought the year before last. Haven’t I mentioned it?’
‘Er, no,’ I replied pointedly. ‘I think I’d remember you buying anisland, Jules.’
‘Well, I’ve built a resort here and it’s absolutely brilliant – well, it should be, I spent squillions on it. Anyway, you’re going toloveit, Ally.’
‘Hold up, you’re getting ahead of yourself,’ I scolded lightly. ‘Now, before I agree to drop everything, what’s going on?’
‘Long story short: I’m in a bind and I need you to be the face of the resort.’
‘The face?’
I knew what he meant, of course, but there was something rather delicious about making Julian spell it out.Andask for the favour properly.
‘Don’t be coy – you know exactly what I mean,’ he retorted.
Boo – he didn’t want to play. It must have been worse than I thought.
