What a Girl Wants (25 page)

Amy rested her chin on the top of my head. ‘You’ve been sitting at this desk since I left, haven’t you?’

‘Yes?’

‘Which was six hours ago.’

‘Yes?’

‘Wow, it’s almost like we’ve travelled back in time.’

‘I’ve got work to do.’

‘Fine.’ She wrapped herself around me from the back of my chair, squeezing my arms against my body and leaning over my chair. ‘You’re forcing me to do this, you realize.’

Before I could move, she pressed Apple and ‘S’ then jabbed the power key on the monitor.

‘Amy, you shit!’ I exhaled hard. ‘I’m halfway through something.’

‘And you’ll always be halfway through something until someone makes you stop,’ she said, diving across the floor to pull the plug on my computer altogether. I gasped as the little white light in the front faded into darkness. ‘This is for your own good.’

The way I looked at it, I had two choices. I could throw Amy out of the window and tell everyone that she fell, or I could punch her in the boob, get changed and eat some dinner.

‘Just so you know,’ I said, picking up the jeans and top and heading for the bathroom. ‘I’m going to punch you in the boob as soon as I’ve had a wee.’

‘Excellent!’ She flopped onto my bed and raised her arms in victory. ‘Can’t wait.’

‘
Buona sera
.’

The world’s happiest waiter greeted our little gang as we walked into the restaurant. Al had declined our dinner invitation for reasons unknown and Nick was still AWOL, leaving me, Amy and Kekipi to fend for ourselves.

‘
Buona sera
,’ Kekipi replied in his gentle, lilting Italian. ‘
Tavolo per tre, per favore
?’

Our waiter waved us forward, guiding us through a tidy maze of square tables covered with sharp white linens and populated by stately looking older gentlemen in suits, and elegantly dressed middle-aged women who spoke to each other in rapid Italian. I ran the backs of my hands lightly over my nose and forehead, hoping to dispel as much shine as possible. How did they look so well put together? And there wasn’t a natural look in the place: every woman had their hair and make-up done and no one looked like they were about to melt. My hair was already piled high on top of my head but the jeans and long-sleeved top had been a mistake. If it hadn’t been for all the mirrors on the walls, I would have stripped down to my pants but we were planning to eat and I didn’t want to be put off my own dinner.

Once I had been shamed by every woman in the restaurant, we finally arrived at our table, right at the back of the room, tucked away from the classy diners near the window.

‘Are they ashamed of us or something?’ Amy asked, taking her seat as the waiter pulled out her dark-wood chair. ‘Shoving us in the back?’

‘I booked under Al’s name,’ Kekipi explained with a nod to the waiter. ‘This is the best table in the restaurant. Away from the riffraff.’

‘Amy’s so used to being the riffraff, she didn’t realize,’ I said, dabbing myself down with my napkin. ‘It’s lovely.’

‘So what?’ She smiled brilliantly at the waiter as he flicked her napkin onto her lap. ‘They don’t have a seating hierarchy in Pizza Hut.’

‘There is a time and a place for Pizza Hut but this is a little nicer.’ Kekipi said something to the waiter that included the word
vino
and made my stomach turn ever so slightly. ‘Make sure you save room for dessert. Or make yourself sick in between courses. The choice is yours but you won’t want to miss out.’

‘I don’t think I’d have to force myself to throw up if there’s wine involved,’ I said, my face turning green just from looking at the empty glasses on the table. ‘I think I’m going to be sober sister tonight.’

‘All the more for us,’ Kekipi said with a friendly shrug. ‘So, tell me stories. I spent all day shackled to Domenico the Dull planning the party for Friday night and honestly, that man wouldn’t know a good time if it crawled up his butt and did the
merengue
. Hopefully some fun will be had, but believe me when I tell you it was an uphill struggle.’

‘Sounds like it’s going well?’ I gave the waiter what I hoped was an internationally recognized smile for “I don’t speak your language but I appreciate your service” as he poured me a glass of water.

‘Jane planned all Bennett bashes,’ he said a little sadly. ‘We haven’t really had a party since she passed, but Al is determined to go all out with this. You know what they say: behind every great man is a strong woman. And behind every strong woman is an entire gang of fantastic homosexuals with the perfect snappy comeback and an even better colour scheme. It’ll be as good as it can possibly be.’

‘I can’t wait,’ I said, chugging my water. ‘All I did today was work, so you win.’

‘I worked too,’ Amy said. ‘We went to Edward Warren’s studio this morning and then me and Al went to look at a shop he’s thinking about renting.’

‘And how was Mr Warren this morning?’ Kekipi asked, nodding at the wine our waiter had brought over for his approval. ‘It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen him, I’d forgotten how delightfully sleazy he is.’

‘That just about covers it,’ I said, shuddering at the memory of his not-so-tasteful nudes. ‘He offered to take some pictures of Amy in the buff.’

‘Not that I’m encouraging you …’ He paused, sipped the wine and swilled thoughtfully before giving the waiter a second nod. ‘But that man is richer than Croesus.’

‘Was Jesus rich?’ Amy asked. ‘I thought he was supposed to be poor.’

Kekipi shook his head and tasted the wine before the waiter poured him a full a glass.

‘And to be fair, you don’t have a job,’ I said, covering my wine glass with my hand, equally proud and disappointed in myself.

‘Actually, I kind of do,’ Amy said, exclusively proud.

I blinked and then remembered to smile. ‘Topshop called?’

‘No.’ She cleared her throat and shuffled in her seat, throwing back her shoulders and pulling herself up to her full five feet. ‘Al offered me a job and I said yes.’

‘You’re joining the family?’ Kekipi clapped, clearly delighted. ‘Oh, young Padawan, I will teach you all I know.’

‘Al offered you a job doing what exactly?’

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized I did not sound as supportive as I could have been.

‘I mean, yay,’ I added. ‘Woo.’

The grin on her face wavered for a moment before she regrouped and turned her attention to Kekipi.

‘We were walking around the shop and he was asking me what I’d do if it were mine,’ she said, after a big sip of wine. I could see she was trying to play down her excitement and I felt terrible. ‘And you know, I had loads of ideas and Al really loved them all and he said it would be brilliant if I would help him, you know, bring those ideas to life and I agreed and I’m going to work with him on realizing his concept stores. I’m, like, a consultant.’

‘Well, cheers to that.’ Kekipi raised his glass. ‘To Amy the consultant.’

‘Amy the consultant,’ I echoed. ‘That’s amazing.’

‘
You
can’t cheers,’ Amy said, pulling her glass away from mine. ‘It’s bad luck to toast with water. I don’t want your bad luck.’

‘Yeah, that’s the last thing you need,’ I said, still struggling to get my head around her new job. ‘So, what are you actually going to be doing? And where are you going to be doing it?’

‘We’re still working it all out.’ The edges of her mouth tensed slightly. ‘But it’ll most likely be based in Milan for now. We’re going to be looking at concept stores in other cities eventually.’

‘This is so exciting,’ Kekipi said quickly, raising his glass again. ‘I didn’t realize you were such a retail guru.’

‘Oh yeah, I’ve worked in loads of shops. This is basically what I’ve spent my entire career working towards. Totally meant to be.’

Even though every atom of my body knew it was a horrible thing to do, I sat back in my chair and let out the tiniest, quietest snort.

‘Excuse me?’ Amy pulled up the strap of her neon-green sundress and gave me a look. ‘What was that for?’

‘Oh, you know what?’ Kekipi pushed out his chair and quickly stood up. ‘I might just use the restroom before we order.’

‘Did you just laugh at me?’ Amy asked, her smile gone.

‘No, I didn’t laugh.’ I closed my eyes and gave myself a mental slap. ‘I accidentally made a badly timed noise. It didn’t mean anything.’

‘I know you’re the super amazing career girl and I’m the hilarious unemployed fuck-up,’ she replied, folding and refolding the napkin in her lap. ‘But I can do this. You weren’t there – Al really liked my ideas.’

‘I didn’t say you couldn’t do this,’ I replied. ‘I don’t think that at all. I’m just as hilariously unemployed as you right now, aren’t I?’

‘No,’ she said calmly, ‘last time I checked, you had two jobs to choose from. Because it always works out for you and it never works out for me, does it?’

‘I’ve only ever had one job,’ I pointed out, not nearly as calmly. ‘So I think “it always works out for me” is a bit of an exaggeration. And maybe it hasn’t worked out for you yet because you haven’t found something you want to stick at.’

She pursed her lips and ran a finger round the rim of her wine glass. ‘So now I’m a slacker who can’t stick to anything?’

Oh, fuck a duck. I bit my thumbnail, trying to work out how I had managed to dig myself into such a deep hole so incredibly quickly.

‘I feel like you haven’t really loved any of the jobs you’ve had before,’ I was trying so hard to choose my words carefully but all I could hear was the sound of a shovel hitting the soil. ‘And all those jobs have been retail.’

She stared at me while raising her glass to her lips.

‘Apart from that one where you dressed up as a fox outside the bingo hall. That wasn’t retail. And you actually did that for ages.’

She finished her entire glass of wine in two gulps and placed the glass back on the table.

‘So you think I should go back to handing out fliers in a sweaty second-hand animal costume?’ she asked.

‘That’s clearly not what I said,’ I replied, waving my hands in the air and fitting right in with everyone else in the restaurant. ‘No one should have to hand out fliers in a sweaty second-hand animal costume.’

‘I’m sorry my previous career choices weren’t good enough for you,’ she snapped. ‘But I never wanted to sit chained to a desk, being miserable and wasting my life. If I’m unhappy, I don’t stay in a job and convince myself it’s OK for seven years.’

‘Then what happens when you get sick of this job after three months?’ I said, with a slight snap of my own. ‘You just going to call Al and tell him you’re poorly then never show up for work? Again?’

She picked up her menu and flicked her fringe away from her forehead. ‘That’s not going to happen.’

‘Because it’s never happened before,’ I said, picking up my own menu and pretending to read about the specials. ‘Obviously.’

‘Oh, shut up!’ Amy slapped her menu back on the table, making the cutlery bounce and rattle. ‘I’m going to do this, I’m going to be great at it and you are going to owe me a massive apology.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ I replied, straightening my knife and fork. ‘For Al’s sake.’

‘For Al’s sake,’ she repeated. ‘Glad you’re so worried about me.’

‘Of course I’m worried about you,’ I said. ‘I’m
always
worried about you, but Al has been really good to me and I don’t want you to get into this without thinking it through and then pack it in. This is a really big deal to him and he doesn’t know you and you don’t know him and I know you’ve done loads of retail but you haven’t ever really done anything like this, have you?’

‘I’ve spent more hours working in shops than you’ve spent taking pictures,’ she said, looking me dead in the eye. ‘Al took a chance on you and it worked out, didn’t it? Did you have this conversation with yourself before you came out here? Because as I remember it, you were pretty happy to come and fanny about in Milan for a week and then sod off back to London and Charlie and the agency if it didn’t work out, weren’t you? Wouldn’t that qualify as letting Al down?’

I felt my cheeks redden and looked away.

‘I’m going to do this, Tess, and I’m going to be good at it. The reason I haven’t stuck to stuff before was because I was bored. The jobs were boring. This is going to be a challenge and Al is going to help me and teach me, not just send me to the stockroom with a tagging gun and a load of manky, sweaty boob tubes that some twat of a teenager who doesn’t use deodorant wore out once and then brought back.’

‘I’m sorry …’ I blew out a big, heavy breath. ‘If you want to do this, you should do it. It sounds really exciting.’

‘It
is
really exciting,’ she said, casually swiping her hand across her cheek. ‘
I’m
really excited.’

Oh God, I’d made her cry. What an absolute shitbag. I silently willed her eyes to dry up while she concentrated on her menu with glossy eyes.

‘So tell me about the shop – where is it?’ I asked with far more enthusiasm than necessary. ‘What are you planning?’

‘It’s on Via della Spiga,’ she replied with a sniffle. ‘And I don’t know yet. I just suggested some stuff and Al thought it would be good. Whatever.’

‘What are we all having?’ Kekipi arrived back at the table just as the tension simmered down to quiet resentment and an awkward silence. ‘Have you decided?’

‘I might start with the
Caprese
salad,’ I said, trying to communicate everything that had happened in the last four minutes with my eyebrows. Sadly, while they were plentiful, they were not magical. ‘What about you, Amy?’

‘Dunno,’ she replied with a sullen look.

‘Excellent.’ Kekipi laid his napkin across his knee and gave me a stern look. ‘Fantastic. More wine, anyone?’

‘I might have a half,’ I said, holding out my glass.

Kekipi filled it almost to the brim before emptying the rest of the bottle into Amy’s and then waving it at the waiter.

‘Wine makes everything better,’ he explained. ‘And anyway, it’s impossible to get drunk when you’re eating pasta. Soaks it all up. Now, Tess, the
Caprese
salad, you said? Sounds delicious.’

I nodded, sipping my wine very, very slowly while Amy chugged half the glass right away. Maybe I should have stayed in my room, after all.