‘You told your family a bald-faced lie that you were writing a book with Oliver-motherfucking-Blake.’
‘You can just call him Oliver, you know.’ I rolled my eyes wearily.
‘Never.’
I took another bite as she continued.
‘A lie so out of character that it literally stunned your family into silence.’
‘For about a minute, then they went back to being twats.’
For the rest of the excruciatingly long dinner, most of thequestions levelled at me came from Charlotte, who, based on the scepticism plastered on her face, didn’t believe a word that came out of my mouth.
‘And then you went home and started getting busy with Mr Rabbit.’
My cheeks started to heat. I glanced at the table next to us, where two elderly ladies sat cupping mugs of coffee and talking animatedly.
‘Please keep your voice down.’ I hissed.
Rosie’s hand dropped to the table with a soft thud, looking at me like I had lost my mind.
‘You were wanking, and then the hottest guy in the world, according toseveralmagazines, called you and asked you to meet him?’ Her voice rose on the last few words. The two ladies next to us grew quiet for a moment.
Hiding my face behind a palm as if that would stop the women from eavesdropping, I lowered my voice.
‘I’d say it was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, but recently I’ve got a lot to choose from.’Why couldn’t I be effortless like Charlotte or resilient like Rosie?
Rosie was forward and blunt, mainly because she hated small talk and knew exactly what she wanted, so she saw no point in long, drawn-out conversations,especiallywith men. But as with everything in her life, she took it all in her stride.
Last nightfelt like a fever dream.
After several hours of contemplating how I would pay rent, save face with my familyandnot reach rock bottom, I’d given up and gone to bed. Sleep, however, didn’t come for me immediately. It stayed on the periphery whilst anxiety tore its way to the surface. My mind going at a million miles per hour. I tossed and turned in bed until the sheets were tangled around my waist, and my Winnie the Pooh pyjamas rode up my body uncomfortably. So, I did the only thing that almost guaranteed me a good night’s sleep.
I opened my laptop, clicked on my favourite female-createdporn, and grabbed my trusted purple rabbit vibrator from my bedside draw. Over many years of being single, I’d curated quite the collection of sex toys. They filled the top drawer of my bedside table. Each one aimed at stimulating different delicious parts of the body. In my last colossal fuck up of a relationship, Charlie had hated that I owned so many. Looking back, I could see that giant red flag; in the moment, however, I’d tried to be a good girlfriend.
He was enough for me. I didn’t need something synthetic to do the job. That was what he always told me, at any rate. The problem came when I realised that Charlie had no idea what a clitoris wasorits location. Any attempts of me instructing him had led to a frustrated huff and him shoving his fingers inside me harder. Leading to an Oscar-worthy performance from me. Needless to say, the pleasure trove was back in business.
I’d clicked on the video, letting the sounds and my imagination wash away my anxiety for that moment. I’d just gotten into it, chasing that delicious high, when my phone started buzzing next to me.
The mood sufficiently killed, I’d grumbled through turning off the video and the vibrator, fumbling around for my phone hidden under the duvet.
An unknown number flashed across the screen. My initial reaction was to click ignore; it was late and a strange number.
A niggling thought tugged on the back of my brain. It could be important. There could have been an accident, something disastrous and cataclysmic could have happened that ended the world and life as we know it. The last one was less likely, but the aggravating weight of not knowing was why I pressed the answer button.
Trying to keep the annoyance from my voice, I huffed out a short hello.
His voice floated down the line.
I sat bolt upright, my vibrator falling off the bed to the floor with a thud. The sleep I’d been trying to lure towards myself evaporated into the ether.
‘What did he say, in explicit detail, please.’ Rosie demanded.
I glanced to my left. The ladies seemed to deem our conversation uninteresting because they returned to talking in hushed tones.
‘He asked what I was doing tomorrow, well today, I guess, and then said to meet him at his brother’s garden centre this afternoon to discuss something.’
‘The book?’
