Lindsey Kelk 6-Book ‘I Heart...’ Collection. Lindsey Kelk
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Without the paparazzi chasing me, the ride back to The Hollywood seemed to take for ever. Eventually, we rolled up to the door and I rolled through the lobby and up to my room, dog-tired and desperate for sleep.
‘Where the fuck have you been?’
Sleep, I was apparently not going to get. Jenny was standing in the middle of my room, looking absolutely wild.
‘Jenny.’
‘Don’t you fucking “Jenny” me,’ she ranted, stamping her tiny foot. ‘You left me in that club! Left me on the floor to run off with that asshole. I cannot believe you.’
‘I didn’t run off, I was carried off,’ I started, afraid to get too close. Jenny was holding her shoes in one hand, which made her both quicker than me and in possession of a deadly weapon. I’d done enough damage with a pair of stilettos in my own time to know how dangerous they could be. ‘Jenny, I feel horrible, I’m so sorry. But James said you’d be OK and honestly, you didn’t want to be with us—’
‘Oh “James said”?’ she yelled, throwing one of the shoes at me. I dodged; at least she was one weapon down. ‘Well, if James said, then I’m sure it was fine that you left me on the floor of a club, soaked through with some dick’s drink. I don’t believe this. You spend one day with some sonofabitch movie star and you’re acting like a total bitch?’
‘OK, that’s not too harsh? I didn’t have any choice in the matter of leaving you. Unless you didn’t notice, I didn’t exactly swan out of there on my own feet. And I think you’re mistaking James for that dickhead, Joe. He was the one throwing drinks around.’
‘Only because that Blake asshole was getting in his face.’ Jenny brandished the other shoe. It was not fun being on the other end of this. ‘They were both being totally rude to Joe the whole evening. They were totally looking down on him because he’s a barman, even though it’s so obvious they’re just jealous. Joe could so be bigger than James Jacobs if he wanted.’
‘How are you coming up with this stuff?’ I asked, throwing my bag down on the bed and kicking off my own shoes…but keeping them close in case we ended up duelling with them later. ‘Joe had a problem with James and Blake, especially Blake, from the second he got in the car. Before then, even. He was being weird about them this afternoon; I only invited him for your sake.’
‘You think I need you to get me pity dates? Like, Joe only came because you asked him? Oh my God, who do you think you are?’
‘Jenny,’ I shook my head. ‘I can’t do this. I’m tired and you’re being ridiculous. Why don’t we just go to bed and talk about this tomorrow?’
‘Now I’m ridiculous?’ The other shoe flew past my head and hit the door. ‘What’s ridiculous is you. We’ve been in LA two days; you’ve blown me off twice and then you left me on the floor of a club in front of dozens of people. That is ridiculous. You are ridiculous.’
‘Jenny, I’m sorry,’ I really, really wanted to sleep. ‘I’m sorry I blew you out but I was tired and a bit drunk. And I’m sorry I didn’t come back for you but we got chased by the paparazzi and I was stuck in the hotel. And I’m sorry you think I’m blowing you off for James—I’m absolutely not, but it’s my job to interview him. That’s why we’re here, remember? So I do have to spend time with him. I wish I could just hang out with you instead. I really do.’
‘Whatever,’ she bristled, hands planted on her hips. ‘I cannot believe you left me. That Blake guy is an ass-hat.’
‘And Joe was totally out of order with Blake.’ I stood my ground. Hurricane Jenny just needed a slap sometimes. ‘And he got you back OK, didn’t he?’
‘If you mean, he dragged me up by my wrist and tossed me in a lift to find my own way back here, then yes,’ she pouted. ‘If you’re asking if he apologized for his pig-headed behaviour and then brought me back to the hotel, then no.’
‘I’m sorry, Jen, but Joe was being a bit of an idiot. But I know Blake can be difficult too. I’m sorry. I should have…I don’t know what I should have done. But I shouldn’t have left you.’
‘No, you shouldn’t.’ She dropped her arms to her sides. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have blown up. I’m tired, I guess. And cranky.’
‘Me too,’ I said, slowly crossing the room and sitting on the bed. Jenny collapsed backwards beside me. ‘Seriously, though, you need to sort out your temper. Do you think Oprah kicks off like this?’
‘Yeah, whatever,’ she said, wriggling out of her dress and under my covers. I was forgiven then. ‘But I’m telling you, Blake is a total asshole. And James should so ditch him. Joe says—’
‘Please, can we not?’ I sighed, pushing myself up and slipping off the dress to hang it. ‘Don’t go mental, but have you thought that Joe might be a bit jealous of James and was just taking it out on Blake?’
‘Whatever,’ Jenny yawned. ‘I’m still pissed but I’m also super-tired. Let’s talk about this tomorrow. Let’s do something fun.’
‘Uh, yes?’
‘Damn straight, yes,’ Jenny muttered into her pillow, flicking out the light without asking.
‘Night Jenny,’ I whispered, asleep before my head had even hit the pillow.
My alarm was set for nine, so I was completely confused as to what was making all the noise when the little alarm clock next to my bed said eight-twenty.
‘Turn off your freaking phone,’ Jenny mumbled into her pillow.
‘Who would be calling?’ I croaked, still shattered.
‘Meh? Alex?’
Oh shit, Alex.
I rolled out of bed and grabbed my bag from the floor. It was a 212 number but not Alex’s landline.
‘Hello?’
‘Angela Clark, would you like to explain to me what is happening over there?’ It was Mary. ‘Angela? Are you there? Or are you still too tired from your night of fucking up our lives to talk to me?’
‘Mary, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ I rubbed my eyes. Ew, last night’s mascara.
‘I suggest you check, oh I don’t know, Perez Hilton, TMZ, maybe any other website in the entire world and then call me back with a really good excuse as to why I shouldn’t fire your ass.’
I blinked at the dead phone. What was she talking about? Crawling across to my computer, I quickly logged on and flipped to Perez. Which I may or may not have added to my bookmarks during my bout of James Jacobs research/worship.
And there it was. Or rather there they were. A picture of me and James sitting on the beach in Santa Monica. A shot of us eating at 25 Degrees. Him carrying me out of Teddy’s. James putting me in the car at Chateau by the supposed secret exit. Well, it turned