off, ‘I know it doesn’t make sense, he didn’t even wait to break-up with me before he started sleeping with someone else, but I can’t help the way it feels.’
‘True, you can’t,’ Jenny nodded. ‘But you’re not going to let this stop you seeing him? If anything honey, you ought to be throwing another couple of guys into the mix.’
‘I don’t know. What if I don’t stop feeling weird? And what about Alex? Twenty-four hours ago or so, I’d invited him up here, and now I’ve slept with Tyler? I’ve only just got my head around going on dates with two men let alone sleeping with them both.’
‘This one’s easy,’ Jenny said, slapping my hands away from my hair when I tried to retie my ponytail again. ‘Do you want to see Alex again?’
I nodded.
‘And do you want to see and potentially sleep with Tyler again?’
I nodded.
‘Then fine. You don’t have to choose until you’re ready.’ She picked up her coffee and two more of the doughnuts. ‘And by the way, three times in one night, Park Avenue apartment and a black Amex? You sure as hell are seeing him again or you’re giving me his number.’ She leaned over the bar and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Go get ready for your meeting with Mary, I’m going to bed.’
Knowing I had a meeting meant that I didn’t have enough time to go over and over what had happened in my head, but I did manage a quick self-analysis while applying mascara (Razor would have been so proud). Looking myself in the eyes, I tried to smile at the new girl looking back. It wasn’t the clothes or the hair or even the faint tan I’d acquired in the past week, although all of that was new, I just couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked in a mirror before I came to New York. Not caught sight of myself as I walked by, not sorted out my dodgy parting, but really looked myself in the eye. At best I managed a quick sideways glance on my way out of the shower to see how my Weight Watchers torment was coming along, never a happy moment. And now, there was this strange girl staring back at me. A girl who dates two guys at once, writes for the website of a fashion glossy, who lives in New York. Meep.
On the way out of the door, I picked up my mobile and looked at the phone book–Jenny, Erin, The Look, Tyler, and first in the list? Alex. I’d promised I’d call and I really really wanted to, but it felt so weird, ringing a man I wanted to sleep with when I’d just slept with someone else. No matter how many times Jenny told me it wasn’t a big deal, that New York dating came with different rules (The Rules again!) it just felt wrong to me. And to be honest, no matter how far I was putting feminism back, I wanted any man that wanted to sleep with me, to want to sleep only with me. There, it was out there. I was practically a Puritan.
The safest time to get Alex’s answering machine would be early, I reasoned, that sexy deathly pallor didn’t come from early morning jogs along the river. Convincing myself he wouldn’t answer, I sucked it up and dialled. And he answered on the first ring.
‘Y’ello?’ He sounded sleepy and cute.
‘Hi, Alex?’ I panicked, not having anything prepared except a random babbled statement about calling him back later.
‘Yeah?’ So far so he-didn’t-recognize-my-voice.
‘It’s Angela,’ I said, cursing myself for calling. ‘Angela Clark?’
‘Oh, hi.’ He yawned loudly. This plan had not gone well. ‘I wondered when you were going to call.’
‘I said I would,’ I defended myself. It had only been a day. Should I have called by now? Erin had said three days. Bloody Erin. ‘So, you know, Saturday was really fun, thanks.’
‘Uh-huh,’ he replied. ‘Sorry, I just woke up, I’m not really a morning person.’
‘Oh, me neither,’ I said, rushing towards Times Square. ‘But I have a meeting, so I thought I’d call and … sorry. I should have called later.’
‘No, it’s fine,’ he said with another deep yawn. I wondered how he looked first thing. I imagined his hair all stuck over on one side, pillow creases in his cheek. ‘Listen, you want to do something Wednesday? You want to go to MoMA?’
‘Sounds great,’ I said, relieved that I would have two days to sort my head out and wondering what a MoMA was.
‘Cool, meet you outside the main entrance at three?’
‘Perfect, see you then.’ Instead of looking for the Spencer Media building, I found myself guessing what he slept in. Maybe he was wandering around his apartment naked. Not the right chain of thought. Bad Angela.
‘Good, Angela,’ Mary said, pacing around her office clutching my diaries. ‘It’s actually good. It’s pacy, it’s funny–funny-ish–and I’m thinking I’m a reader and I’m kind of interested in these men you’re dating. You’re still seeing both of them?’
‘Yes,’ I said, watching her anxiously and looking out for the coffee I was offered on my way in. ‘I am, but I feeling a bit weird about it. I don’t know, maybe I should just be seeing one of them. Or just slowing it down a little, but with one of them. Or both of them. Or something.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Mary said, finally settling behind her desk. ‘If you want this blog, you keep dating. We need to give them nicknames so that they don’t sue–I’m calling them Wall Street and Brooklyn–they are your story, until something or someone else, comes along.’
‘I suppose,’ I said slowly. I really should have reread the pieces post-caffeine-high, but I wanted this so badly. ‘I’m seeing Alex on Wednesday but I haven’t made plans with Tyler yet.’
‘Make them.’ Mary buzzed in her secretary and handed me a business card. ‘You’ll email me your column every day by four, keep it detailed on locations, light on the gory details. We want the readers interested in where you’re going on your dates, which guy you’re going to pick, not getting off on your sex life.’
‘OK,’ I nodded eagerly, ‘I can do that.’
‘So you’ll email your piece to me every day by four. I have a meeting with the editorial and marketing team on Thursday, and if your pieces keep coming in at this standard, I’ll be putting them to the team then.’
‘Thanks,’ I replied, completely shell-shocked. ‘I won’t let you down, Mary.’
‘No, you’d better not,’ she said, turning back to her computer. ‘Be here at four on Friday for a catch-up and we’ll talk about posting The Adventures of Angela.’
‘The Adventures of Angela?’ I backed out of the office, smiling with an awkward half wave. ‘See you Friday. Thanks Mary.’
I emerged, blinking, into the sunlight, not really knowing what had just happened, but pretty sure the meeting had gone well. Pausing outside the terrifyingly neon behemoth that was Toys us, it took me a whole minute to work out what the vibrating against my hip was, before I realized that I’d stuck my mobile in my pocket after calling Alex. It had been over a week since I’d received a text message and I’d almost forgotten they existed. Who knew that could happen?
Hi lunch meeting cancelled, have res at Tao. Shame to waste it. Abuse my corporate account with me at 1.00?
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