What actually just happened here?
Day two in Cannes and I am hangry. All I had time for was a long-life yoghurt under the glare of an electric fly-trap in my ‘hotel’ this morning before racing over to Vi’s. Thankfully she is in the best mood, which makes such a difference to our working day. She’s currently enjoying lunch al fresco with her BBF (blogger best friend) Emmy while I take some cutesnaps of them catching up. Emmy is an absolute sweetheart, so much so that I can never quite understand why she’s friends with Violet. Still, they’re super tight and I love it when she comes along to our shoots. She’s just a dream to photograph, professional, always on time, happy to take direction and with the skin of a luminous unicorn. I think I secretly want to be Emmy. Anyway, here they are clinking glasses of chilled rosé, a plate of seafood on ice in front of them, while Violet gushes over last night’s, um, endeavours.
‘You will never guess who I hooked up with.’
‘Ooh, was it Leo? I heard he was at your party,’ replies Emmy, flicking back her much-Googled hair, today the colour of mint green.
‘No, it was Chip. You know, fromTotally Toffs?’
‘NO. WAY.’ Emmy grabs Violet’s hand in excitement.
‘Way,’ replies Violet, two pretty spots of pink lighting up her cheeks. How she doesn’t look like death after necking all those shots last night, I will never know. Some people are just born lucky.
‘I need details,’ Emmy says, pawing at the table cloth. ‘Like, is Bella still stalking him? Did he really get slapped by Allegra at that ball? And, ohmygod, are the gossip mags true, is he actually the lovechild of a Swedish prince?’
Violet looks a bit affronted. She takes a prawn, rips its head off and munches menacingly.
‘Of course I need YOUR gossip first,’ Emmy backtracks. ‘What happened last night?’
Appeased, Violet recounts the scenes of debauchery while my stomach rumbles get louder by the minute.
‘Jasmine, can you stop that please? Emmy can barely hear my news!’
‘No,don’t worry!’ Emmy chimes in. ‘Are you hungry? Have you eaten?’ She beckons for me to stop snapping and pull up a chair, handing me a plate.
‘Thanks,’ I say, gratefully slathering a mini loaf of bread in butter. ‘We’ve been so busy I haven’t had the chance.’
‘That reminds me, you’re free at supper tonight now,’ Violet tells me. ‘Chip wants to take me for dinner so I’ve cancelled that meal we were going to.’
‘Is that a good idea? You’re meant to be meeting up with other brand collaborators for the vodka people, remember?’
‘It’s just networking,’ breezes Violet. ‘The pursuit of love is much more important and besides, Chip is crazy famous. Imagine if we become an item? It would be so much more beneficial to me than some vodka sponsorship.’
‘I really don’t think you should cancel,’ I begin, but Violet holds up her hand decisively.
‘I’d have asked you to come along but Chip wants us to get to know each other. . . in private! I feel so hashtag blessed right now. I don’t even know where he’s taking me! He just said he’d pick me up at seven from the hotel bar. Emmy, I’m too excited. It’s going to be exactly like that scene inPretty Womanonly I’m not a high-class escort, obvs. Ooh, that reminds me, I need to refresh my bikini line. Jasmine, can you get that sorted please?’
There she is. My boss. Classy to a fault.
I’m in a bit of a conundrum. I’m now free to go out on a date with a shouty, blond waiter tonight. He is very rude and ticks hardly any of my boxes, although when he’s not shouting he is quite cute and I do like a French accent. Cue conundrum number one. . . I’mmeantto be going out with guys who aren’t my type on paper. Mila says so and apparentlyMila is in charge of my love life. But, do I actually want to? As for conundrum number two, well, Violet and I had a glass of champagne at the beauty salon earlier and now we have matching heart-shaped bikini waxes. YES THAT’S RIGHT. What was I thinking? The bubbles went straight to my head after a day of eating nothing but yoghurt and tiny bread and, despite not being a hearts and flowers type of woman, I was powerless to resist when Violet decided that nothing says romance more than pubic hair teased into a love heart shape. I found myself nodding along, weirdly into it. And then came the two-for-one offer and the fact that Violet was happy to pay and bob’s your uncle, my lady parts now look like a really, really inappropriate Valentine’s card. Plus, you know, I haven’t found the time to go for a wax in, oh, years, so I’m not one hundred per cent comfortable crossing my legs. Don’t even get me started on the 30 degree Mediterranean heat and the fact that I packed only jeans for this trip.
What I need right now is an ice pack, a towelling robe and a box set but what I have is work to do. We’re currently in Violet’s hotel room (mine, oddly, doesn’t have any windows whereas hers is big enough to house a four-poster bed) while she gets ready for her date. She Google-stalked her new prey and, after coming across a Q&A about his ideal woman, is now layering on red lipstick because she knows it’s his favourite. It makes me think back to my last fateful date with James, and how I’d swerved lipstick just to please him.
Stupid James.
But as I watch Violet make herself look even more beautiful than usual, I decide that there’s no point staying in and feeling sorry for myself. Stupid James can stick it. I’m starting out afresh! Last night’s chance encounter could be the beginning of a new seven-dateadventure. (Or it could be awful and remind me why I definitely should stick to my guns.) Whatever, me and my heart-shaped wax are going out!
