Just the Way You Are (19 page)

‘Yeah great, we’ll sort something out soon.’ I matched her sweet smile with one of my own.

She looped her arm through Max’s and her lips curved up into a smile. Everything about her from her body language to the look in her eyes silently screamed one thing:
I love this guy.

***

Nate drove me home and saw me to my door. As we stood outside, I noticed the warmth in his eyes had turned into a naughty glint. All of a sudden, I didn’t feel so comfortable being alone with him.

‘So here we are then,’ he said with a wicked grin. He took a step towards me and I instantly backed away.

‘Come on, I don’t bite. Unless you ask me nicely.’

I backed away again until my foot hit the stairs leading up to the first floor. I grabbed hold of the bannister to steady myself and Nate seized the opportunity to wrap his arms round my waist. His slightly beery breath tickled my face and I could hear his heart racing in his chest.

‘You’re so gorgeous,’ he said in little more than a whisper.

‘Nate…’

I didn’t get a chance to finish; he cupped my face with his hands and kissed me. It felt completely different to kissing Max; he was soft and gentle and Nate was hungry and insistent – as though he couldn’t get enough. He tasted of steak and beer and his hands wandered along the contours of my back and hips then up to my breasts. After kissing me a final time, he broke away from me.

‘Why don’t we go inside?’ he suggested.

He moved me round so I was against the lobby wall and started kissing my neck. It brought back horrible memories of the encounter with Frankenstein’s monster and terror took hold of every part of my body.

‘Please don’t.’ I put my hands on his shoulders to stop and breathed a sigh of relief when he did.

‘What’s up?’ He didn’t look happy at his plans for the night being derailed.

‘Nothing, I… I don’t do that sort of thing on a first date. Look, I’m up early tomorrow so…’

‘Right OK.’ Nate’s terse voice cut across mine. ‘I’ll see you around then.’

We hugged awkwardly and I watched him shrink away into the black night. I wasn’t sure what to make of him. There seemed to be two sides to him: one was sweet and funny, the other one turned nasty when he didn’t get what he wanted. Time would tell which one made up the majority of his character.

I went inside and pulled the pink Post-it note out of my pocket. I didn’t immediately recognise the scrawl but realised it must be Holly’s.

What are you doing?! Thought you were with Max
–
he’s mad about you!

I scrunched the note in the palm of my hand and tears rolled down my face. Everything felt like such a mess: my search for Mr Writer had been nothing short of disastrous and everything around me seemed to be telling me to give up. First the date with Nate and now Max seemingly being mad about me. It hadn’t seemed that way when he’d had his arm around Gwen’s teeny little waist. I had an awful feeling that I was wasting my time; that perhaps I should start living in the real world instead of chasing a six-year-old dream.

It was the worst feeling in the world.

I didn’t have time to dwell much on it as Gwen drifted into the living room on Cloud Nine.

‘Hey chick, did you have a good night?’ She kicked her glittery pumps off and joined me on the sofa.

I hastily hid the Post-it note and dried my eyes. ‘Yeah, it was good; can’t complain anyway. What about you? You didn’t tell me you were going out with Max.’

She blushed and started wrapping a lock of white-blonde hair around her finger. She oozed happiness from every pore; I was so freaking jealous.

‘It wasn’t a
date
date,’ she said in a coy little voice. ‘I was just sitting in work, drawing up some sketches when this thought popped into my head: what if today is my last day? I mean, a bus could hit me on my way home or I could give myself really bad food poisoning or whatever and Max wouldn’t know I love him. So I texted him to tell him I needed to see him about something, went down to Brown’s and told him exactly how I feel. We’re thinking of giving things a go, seeing how it pans out.’

I wanted to be sick. On the one hand, I was so proud of her for putting the whole mess with Tom behind her and not allowing it to make her afraid of falling in love. She’d done a brave thing, telling Max how she felt. On the other hand, I wished with my whole heart that she’d chosen someone else to love, someone who wasn’t so…
Max
.

Chapter 19

The last day of November – and the day of my pitch – came round relatively quickly. My search for Mr Writer went on the back burner and, as I hadn’t heard from Dr Browning about setting up a meeting with his dad and Ivy yet, so had my plans to reunite them. I wrote a farewell blog post, thanking everyone for their support, and received a slew of replies begging me not to give up. People reminded me I still had to meet the man MistySparkles27 knew but I explained that things were over. It wasn’t likely to be him anyway. Mr Writer was no more.

I’d visited Ivy frequently though. She’d started chemotherapy and was in remarkably good spirits, despite feeling very ill. It also meant I wasn’t around the flat as much to listen to Gwen coo at Max down the phone, which was a huge bonus. Whenever I called round to see her with some chocolate eclairs, she was playing an Ella Fitzgerald record on her old gramophone. The music was hauntingly beautiful, as was her voice as she gently sang along to it.

I found the lyrics painfully apt. I’d done a fair bit of crying recently as I’d tried to reconcile myself with the fact that my search for Mr Writer had to come to an end. I wasn’t going to bother looking for Dean Smith. Given what James Kelly had been like- along with my terrible luck- Dean would probably end up being the worst of the lot and I wasn’t willing to take that chance.

Nate had been pestering me to go out with him again and, try as I might, I couldn’t find a reason to say no. His brusqueness in my lobby had stuck with me but it didn’t make him a bad person, did it? He was real and near and he wanted me. With all of those things in mind, I agreed to let him take me out after work on pitch day.

My palms were sweaty and my heart raced as I waited to do my pitch. I’d gone over it again and again with Fran but I still wasn’t confident. I couldn’t help thinking this pitch would end the same way as the last: with me being sick in the rubbish bin.

‘You’ll smash it babes,’ Fran insisted as she nibbled a croissant spread with strawberry jam. ‘You know this story inside and out, you’re passionate about it and both those things will shine through to Paddy and Miranda.’

‘I wish I had your confidence!’ I paced back and forward as I waited for my name to be called. My notes were in a neat little pile on the table but every time I looked at them, the words melted away before my eyes.

‘Will you just relax! Everyone knows you’re going to win this competition thing with Maddie anyway; this is just a formality to see what you’ve got in store for them.’

‘That’s easy for you to say; you can talk to a room full of people without batting an eyelid! It’s different for me; one look at the people watching me and I freeze. When I realise I’ve got their full attention, I just close up and forget what I’m supposed to be speaking about.’

Fran turned to her computer screen, frowned a bit then looked back at me.

‘What’s all this shit about you giving up looking for Mr Writer?!’ She pointed at the screen and stared at me open-mouthed, demanding an immediate explanation.

‘I just don’t see the point of dragging it out any further,’ I explained. ‘The letters have stopped, the first candidate turned out to be a psycho and the one I’ve still got to find will probably be the same, knowing my luck. Oh well, at least I had one normal one eh?’ I could hear the bitter edge to my voice but didn’t care. I was fast becoming fed up with this wild goose chase.

‘What about that MrsSparkly82 or whatever she was called? She said she knew who he was!’

‘Just leave it Fran,’ I snapped. My patience was shorter than usual that day and for a good reason.

Miranda scuttled out of her office, a macabre sight dressed all in black. Her bushy strawberry blonde hair was styled into a neat chignon that rested at the nape of her neck and there was a sinister glint in her eyes.

‘Ava, care to come and pitch your Valentine’s idea to us?’

She flashed her scarily white teeth in my direction and I had to resist the urge to say “I thought Halloween was last month”.

I walked into the office, taking in great lungfuls of air and wishing I could be anywhere but here. I’d scribbled out some rough notes but I knew most of the pitch would come straight from my heart. Knowing my luck, my stomach would decide to contribute something to the pitch too but it would be a lot less welcome.

I chose a spot on the floor and rooted myself to it as Miranda and Paddy looked at me. Immediately, I felt a cold sweat building on my neck. Why the hell did I choose today to wear black?

‘When you’re ready Maria.’

‘It’s
Ava
.’ I felt pretty miffed that Paddy still didn’t remember my name, even after I’d told him umpteen times.

‘Yes, yes… Carry on, we haven’t got all day!’

I closed my eyes and tried to relax myself. I knew this pitch back to front; after all, I’d gone over it with Fran plenty of times. All I had to do was open my mouth and let the words come out.

And that was exactly what I planned to do, until someone knocked on the door.

‘Come in!’ Miranda called.

A scared-looking young girl, who looked like she was probably on work experience, opened the door and tiptoed inside. She was a quivering mess in the black trouser suit, which looked like she’d borrowed it from her mum.

‘Yes Claire, what is it?’ Miranda didn’t sound or look too pleased to see her.

‘Um… I-is Ava Clements in here?’ Her voice was quiet and mousy and matched her mousy brown bob.

‘That’s me!’ I flashed Claire a sympathetic smile. No wonder she was terrified, having to walk into a room with Miranda there.

‘Oh, er… T-there’s a delivery waiting at your desk for you and a call waiting on your phone.’

My heart leapt with excitement. Part of me wondered if they were from Mr Writer, which I’d obviously take as a sign not to give up my search after all. The other part told me not to be so silly; it was probably swathes of fabric Gwen had ordered and had delivered to my work instead of the flat. She was probably phoning to check they’d arrived safely too.

Miranda sighed impatiently. ‘For goodness’ sake, couldn’t this have waited? We’re having a very important meeting!’

Claire’s huge blue eyes filled with tears and she tried to stammer out an apology. I felt for her; she was clearly young and there was no need to be so mean to her.

‘Never mind Claire, off you go.’ Miranda dismissed her and sent her scurrying back to the pile of filing she’d undoubtedly emerged from.

I knew there was no chance of carrying on with the pitch while the mystery parcel was in my mind. There was nothing else for it; I just had to know who it was from.

‘I’ve just remembered; my flatmate ordered some important stuff for work and had it sent here in case she was out on a photo shoot,’ I lied. ‘I should go and check everything’s there; she’ll kill me if anything’s missing! Back in five.’

I made a quick exit before Miranda and Paddy could object. Sure enough, when I got to my desk there was a giant cardboard box sitting there and a red light flashing to let me know somebody was on the line.

‘You’ve to open the box first then answer the phone. The bloke said he’d wait as long as he needed to,’ said Claire. She seemed a lot calmer now Miranda wasn’t around.

‘Thanks,’ I replied. ‘Oh and don’t let Miranda Stark get you down. Working here’s great; she’s just an uptight bitch. Don’t tell her I said that though!’

She blushed and hurried back to her desk. I guessed the magazine industry perhaps wasn’t for her. I turned my attention back to the box. It was sealed with brown packing tape and felt heavy when I picked it up.

‘What’s that?’ Fran asked after returning from the water cooler.

‘No idea, I’m just about to open it now.’

My brain buzzed and my stomach fizzed. Maybe this was a sign that Mr Writer and I were meant to be together. Maybe, by some twist of fate, he’d sensed I was giving up on him and made a really romantic gesture to show me how he felt?

The only way to find out was to open the box. So that’s exactly what I did.

Boy, did I get a surprise, and not a good one at that.

Stuffed inside the box was a huge cream teddy bear holding a red velvet love heart with
Can’t wait for our second date!
embroidered on it with gold thread. On its left ear was a button that said
Squeeze me
and I couldn’t resist. My jaw dropped immediately when a high-pitched voice began to sing an old song in a very creepy manner.

Dear. God.

People at nearby desks fell about laughing while I stared at the singing bear, looking and feeling mortified. This was my idea of hell; cheesy gestures just weren’t my thing. A night under the stars with a picnic was more likely to wow me than a quite frankly creepy-looking teddy bear with a sinister singing voice. One thing was for sure; I’d never listen to
You Are My Sunshine
in quite the same way.

‘Oh my Christ Ava, that’s awful!’ Fran’s lithe frame doubled over and her cackling laugh sounded like a cat being strangled.

‘You’re telling me!’ I squeezed the bear’s ear to get it to stop singing but it didn’t work. Instead, it decided to give the room an encore.

‘Oh shut up!’

I stuck the lid back on the box to muffle the creepy singing and snatched up the phone.

‘Hello gorgeous, did you get my parcel?’ Nate’s voice at the end of the phone made my heart sink into my shoes.

‘Yeah I did… It’s different anyway!’

I didn’t have the heart to tell him I hated it or that I was quietly plotting its demise. He’d obviously put a lot of thought and effort into surprising me so I should be grateful, I reasoned. Mr Writer had been pretty quiet lately after all.

‘Glad you liked it, are we still on for tonight?’ he asked.