left a twenty on the bar and hopped off the stool. Turned out I wasn’t that steady on my heels and I wobbled over to Gina’s reserved area.
‘Hey, girl!’ Jenny waved me over from a low bench by the window. ‘I was worried about you until I saw you talking to tall, rich and handsome over by the bar. Johnny yesterday, hot banker tonight, seriously, why do you need my help again?’
I flopped onto the bench and sighed. ‘But they’re both because of you,’ I said, throwing an arm around her. ‘It’s the hair and the make-up and stuff. Not me. Jesus, I couldn’t even get my own boyfriend to have sex with me, let alone seduce strangers.’
‘Seriously?’ she asked, sipping on what looked like a Cosmopolitan. Hmm, I thought, apparently not a cliché. One of those next for me. ‘But why wouldn’t he want to throw you down and ravish you?’
‘Because he was ravishing someone else,’ I laughed loudly. ‘And he never saw me looking like this. I wore nothing but hoodies and baggy jeans. We had sex about once a month on principal. And it had been shit for about, God, do you know I can’t actually remember the last time it was good.’
‘That’s really sad,’ sighed Jenny. I dropped my head onto her shoulder and nodded. ‘He has absolutely no excuse for cheating but if things were that bad, you should have been out of there a long time ago.’
‘And you know what’s really sad?’ I whispered loudly with dramatic hand gestures. ‘He is the only man I’ve ever done it with.’ I nodded to myself and finished my drink. It was definitely time for another. ‘Yeah, maybe I should do it with Tyler, that man at the bar. He asked me out for dinner.’
‘And you’re gonna go, right?’ she asked, taking my empty glass. ‘You should totally go.’
‘I said I’d let him know about Thursday,’ I noticed I was slurring a little bit. The two drinks I’d necked at The Union must have been really kicking in. ‘He was really, really good-looking.’
‘Well, don’t make it too easy for him,’ she said, patting my hand. The room was starting to spin a little, it was so hot. I really wanted another drink. ‘But you should definitely go out on Thursday and if it goes well, I say you do whatever you gotta do. You so need to get back on the horse, Angie.’
‘Yeah, ride that horse,’ I sighed, looking for a server. How long did it take for a waitress to make her way around here? ‘What about you? You’re bloody gorgeous? What about you and horse riding?’
Jenny laughed out loud. ‘How many drinks did you have over there?’ she asked. ‘I’ve ridden far too many horses, kissed too many frogs. When I turned twenty-nine I decided I wasn’t going to keep dating useless guys just for the sake of dating, so I’m holding out for a good guy.’
‘That’s great,’ I said, squeezing her hand hard. ‘That’s really, really great. You know what? I feel a bit sick.’
The room started to spin a little bit faster and I started to feel a little bit hotter. Jenny helped me up and somehow we made it outside to the little yard on the side of the hotel.
‘How many drinks did you have?’ Jenny asked, returning from the bar with a tall glass of water. It was the most wonderful thing I’d ever drunk.
‘Just two at the hotel and three pineapple things here,’ I said, breathing deeply. ‘But I have only had breakfast.’
‘You really will fit in here if you carry on like that,’ Jenny said. ‘Drink that water and we’ll stop on the way to Planet Rose for food.’
‘Planet Rose?’ I asked, trying to stand up, starting to feel a bit drunk again rather than a bit sick. Standing up still felt a long way away.
‘Karaoke,’ Jenny said, looking back towards the garden entrance where Gina and the rest of the gang were starting to bring their party out on to the pavement. ‘Will you be OK? Do you want me to take you back to the hotel?’
‘Nope,’ I said, flinging myself to my feet. Man, these heels were high. ‘I might not be able to hold my drink or my man, but what I can hold, is a tune. Point me in the right direction and give me a bloody mic.’ I was wobbling a bit but at least I was upright.
‘Okaaay,’ said Jenny, looking at me nervously. ‘Sure you’re gonna be OK?’
‘I’ll be fine,’ I slurred, ‘let’s just get to karaoke. Seriously, I have Singstar, it will be fine.’
‘I kinda meant are you sure you’re not gonna puke,’ Jenny said as I marched off after the girls. ‘But apparently you’re good.’
We walked until I sobered up and hit a completely different part of town. The shops and hotels of Soho gave way to dark loud bar after dark loud bar, punctuated by little random-looking shops.
‘Welcome to the East Village,’ Jenny gestured around. The glossy girls looked a little out of place alongside the hipsters and goths that spilled out of the bars and smoked on the pavement, but they really didn’t look as if they cared. A couple more blocks away, we piled into a slightly slutty looking bar, all red walls and zebra skin booths with Black Velvet belting out of the stereo, with more than thirty of Gina’s friends, colleagues, well-wishers and good-looking people picked up along the way. And it seemed that out of all of them, I was the only one half-cut. It was only once I’d been pushed all the way down the narrow bar, I realized they weren’t playing Black Velvet. Someone was singing Black Velvet. Someone really bloody good. This wasn’t Singstar territory.
I’ll just take it easy, I told myself as I slid onto a bench and tried to look casually through the song list. I won’t drink, I’ll just sit here and be calm. These people are my potential friends. I don’t want them to think I’m some loser lush who got dumped and came to New York to drink herself to death.
‘Hey, English,’ Gina stood in front of me with an enormous, lurid margarita. ‘This is yours. I put me and you down for some Spice Girls. Make you feel at home.’
‘Oh, thanks.’ One more drink couldn’t hurt, could it?
CHAPTER NINE
The next morning, or early afternoon, came all too quickly, given that I couldn’t remember anything after my rousing rendition of ‘Wannabe’. Glancing around the room (which would have been much easier if it would have just stopped spinning) I saw my dress, my shoes and my handbag all littered across the floor, so at least there didn’t appear to be too much collateral damage. As I tried to roll over, the bed covers turned into a straitjacket and alcohol induced kitten-like weakness or not, I had to get them off. Kicking madly, I pushed all the sheets off until I was laid, in my underwear, diagonally across the bare bed.
And that was when I heard the shower.
Nowhere in the room was there evidence of another person. I hurled myself off the edge of the bed, fighting back the urge to throw up, and pulled on the first thing I found, yesterday’s white shirt, but the shower stopped. I froze, squatting in the open shirt, hanging onto the edge of the covers. The lock on the bathroom door clunked out of place. Unkindly, the full-length mirror showed me exactly what the person in the shower would be seeing in a couple of seconds and it wasn’t pretty. Elegantly messy bob was a bird’s nest and Razor had lied. There was definitely a cut-off point when smudging my eye make-up did not just make it look better. And the idea of
