‘It was with Bradley Cooper’s assistant’sassistant and I passed out in the waiting room because I was too nervous to eat the three days before the audition. Now back to you.’
Pouring half a jug of cream into my coffee, I watched it surge back up to the surface, swirling white on black. ‘What’s to tell? I’m sure Suzanne has filled you in on the important stuff.’
‘Suzanne tells me nothing,’ she said with a pretty snort. ‘For the first three months we were working together, I was convinced she was a spy. Talk about a closed book.’
‘Yeah, she’s never been especially forthcoming,’ I admitted, picturing my sister’s flinty glare. ‘She had this boyfriend, Victor, years ago now. They met at university, moved in together when they graduated, the whole bit, and right when we thought they were going to get engaged, she dumped him. Completely out of the blue. They’d been together for years, he was devastated.’
Bel stared at me with wide eyes, rapt. ‘And she wasn’t?’
‘You don’t like to use the word sociopath about someone in your own family,’ I said, sucking the air in through my teeth. ‘But she’s definitely someone who likes to stay in control of her emotions.’
‘I don’t know if she’s a sociopath. This one time, I was dropping off her pre-workout and when she opened the door, her eyes were all red and puffy and I know she doesn’t smoke, so … I think she’d been crying.’
I almost fell off my chair. ‘Really? You saw Suzanne cry?’
‘She was watching a cartoon? About dinosaurs? And there was a bunch of Kleenex on the sofa?’
‘Well, that explains it,’ I said, everything suddenly making sense. ‘She was watchingThe Land Before Time. Littlefoot is her one weakness, it’s enough to break anyone.’
‘I was a little freaked out,’ Bel confessed. ‘It’s the only time I’ve ever seen her emote. Mostly she seems super caught up in her job, I don’t think she holds space for a whole lot else.’
I picked a packet of brown sugar from the bowl in the middle of the table and gave it a flick before tearing it open and dumping the contents into my coffee. ‘She’s always been ambitious and she’s always been successful,’ I reasoned. ‘Our gran used to say Suzanne could achieve anything she put her mind to, and so far she hasn’t been proved wrong.’
‘What about you? Are you ambitious?’
‘Depends on your definition of ambitious,’ I said, stirring my coffee. ‘I like my job but I’m not obsessed with success the way Suzanne always has been. That said, if you need to know when to celebrate World Veterinary Day, I’m the UK’s leading expert.’
She clasped her hands together and squealed with delight.
‘You’re a vet?’
‘Not quite,’ I replied. ‘I’m a greetings card copywriter.’
‘Really? That sounds amazing, wow.’ Somehow, she managed to make one three-letter word last for what felt like an hour. ‘I mean, I have no idea what it is, but it sounds totally incredible.’
It was almost impossible to believe this woman was real. I’ve never met anyone so enthusiastic about absolutely everything in my entire life. She was hyperbole personified.
‘I write the poems and things for cards,’ I explained. ‘Birthday cards, Christmas cards, administrative assistant appreciation day cards. There’s not much else to tell you but do mark the last Saturday in April in your diary, poor vets never get their due.’
‘I went on a date with a vet once,’ she said, twirling a strand of glossy hair around her finger. ‘So hot, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how he spent all day poking around in a dog’s butt.’
‘Probably won’t put that on the cards for next year.’ I grimaced at the thought, now marginally less excited for my pancakes. ‘You must have a lot of good dating stories – what’s the craziest date you’ve ever been on?’
‘Nice try but I don’t think so.’ She pointed at me with an accusatory teaspoon. ‘We’re talking about you. Tell me more about your super awesome job.’
‘Bel,’ I said, warming my fingertips against my coffee mug. ‘Any chance you were a cheerleader in high school?’
‘And in college!’
Shaking my head slightly, I smiled down at the table,oddly moved by her unreserved enthusiasm. Usually, someone with such a complete and utter lack of cynicism was kryptonite to me, but there was something about Bel that made me want to lie down with my head in her lap so she could stroke my hair and tell me it was all going to be OK. She was a real-life Disney princess only with baby-pink Nikes instead of glass slippers. Much more practical when you thought about it, far less likely to slice through your Achilles tendon.
‘OK, but remember you asked,’ I said as she gazed at me from across the table. ‘Basically, the sales team tells me how many different cards they want for each season or celebration, let’s say fifteen cards for Mother’s Day, and how many they want in each style, for example, they might want five cute cards, five funny cards and five modern cards.’
‘Got it,’ she said, her lips pursed with concentration.
‘Once that’s worked out, I sit down and write the words. Love poems for Valentine’s Day, jokes about golf for Father’s Day, that sort of thing.’
‘Why golf?’
