I felt my jaw tighten just as Katy rejoined us, balancing a tray of drinks. ‘I may have put it on the business account. Sorry, girls!’ I admitted, reaching for my glass of prosecco and taking a quick swig. My two friends burst out laughing at this confession.
‘Well, Ella, you better do the best pitch of your life tomorrow then, because we fucking need funds,’ Zola concluded. ‘Badly!’
‘OK, guys, I just downloaded American Tinder – oh my God!’ Katy scrolled, Zola and I smirking at her expression.
‘Whatever happened to the Irish guy? I thought he was still hanging about?’ Zola asked.
‘Yeah, Sean. He is, but it’s casual. He comes over, we shag, then I don’t hear from him for weeks.’ She shrugged.
‘Wait, and you’re OK with that?’ I asked, knowing my friend had real attachment issues and thrived on male attention, especially post penetration.
‘I mean, I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t jumped on Rightmove at times and priced houses in Ireland, but at the same time, he kind of annoys me.’ Her voice was soft and carefree. In the decade I’d known Katy, I’d never seen her so relaxed about a man she was pumping.
‘He annoys you?’ Zola nudged me.
‘Yeah, in what way?’ I probed.
Katy let out a huge sigh and set down her phone. ‘Well, when we’re having sex, OK? I am giving him sookie after sookie, my jaw practically locked at times. He’s always like, “Youwant to kisshim, don’t you?” in that fucking accent. But now I’m like, no, I actually don’t. My mouth is throbbing. I can’t be arsed, especially since he doesn’t do anything for me. He sticks a finger in if I’m lucky, then we’re having your bog standard missionary sex.’
‘So selfish,’ Zola tutted.
‘Yes, so selfish,’ Katy replied. ‘And at the start I didn’t mind, because – well, that voice – but now I think, I’m not suckinghimwithout you pleasuring me, pal.’ She sounded so angry that both Zola and I burst out laughing.
‘You’re quite right, babe. Know your worth!’ Zola smiled, her beautiful set of white teeth on display, and I agreed.
‘To Katy and her quest for New York dudes who actually put out!’ I raised my glass in the air for a cheers, and together we clinked.
We sat in the bar for another hour, chatting and sipping our drinks, before gathering our bags and heading to the gate. When our flight was called, we walked side by side onto the plane, following the line of passengers.
As we boarded, I scanned my boarding pass again and showed it to the flight attendant. She grinned pleasantly and held her hand out to the right.
‘Business class is this way, ladies.’
I turned to my friends. Their jaws were on the floor.
‘Business class?’ Katy bellowed. ‘Shut the fuck up!’
Zola nudged her, and together we followed the flight attendant through to the far fancier part of the plane. Leather seats, extra leg room, and menus on tables. I grabbed my friends’ arms.
‘Get this on our TikTok, Zo!’ Katy shouted, but Zola’s phone was already out, recording the entire experience.
We reached our assigned seats and sat down, each of us placing our bags either on our laps or under the seats in front of us. I took my seat by the window.
‘There’s a cocktail menu!’ Katy exclaimed.
‘And a goodie bag with eye masks and socks and a tiny toothpaste,’ Zola said. ‘Plus, the seats tip back flat!’
I grinned at their excited faces, settling in for what promised to be a comfortable flight.
‘This is insane,’ Zola said, grabbing my hand.
I squeezed her fingers for a second then pulled back as I opened my phone again. The screen lit up. Still nothing from Philip – noSafe flight, noGood luck. My chest tightened at the emptiness, the feeling of abandonment. Zola saw the flicker of disappointment on my face.
‘This is going to be amazing, Ella. I’ve got a feeling our entire lives are about to change here. Don’t let some fucking guy you’ve known for a few months take this opportunity away from you, OK? If Philip is the right man for you, he’ll come back; they always do.’
I nodded at her encouragement, and she gently pressed my shoulder before turning to rejoin Katy. They rummaged through the business-class goodie bags left on their seats, exclaiming at the contents.
I gazed out at the slick grey tarmac and let my breath out slowly. Zola was right. We’d got lucky, yes, but I’d also put years of work into this, and now was my moment. Philip’s doubts weren’t going to decide for me; I wanted to prove to him that The Dicktionary Club could change for the better, too. Squaring my shoulders, I reached into my cabin bag for my laptop. Seven hours. I was about to pour everything I had into this pitch.
