I had no idea where we were.
‘Blake,’ James sighed.
‘He must be pissing himself laughing at me.’ I ran my fingers through the ends of my hair. The sun was really drying it out; I’d need to get the split ends sorted out when I got home. Shocker; another shitty thing about LA. ‘So what was supposed to happen?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If this wasn’t supposed to happen, what was?’ I asked, looking at my reflection in the tinted glass. The girl looking back looked so pathetic, I didn’t recognize her.
‘Angela, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,’ James said quietly.
I just couldn’t get over how tragic I’d been. Jenny was right, what was wrong with me? I’d lost my grip on myself so easily.
‘James, did I ever tell you what happened with my ex?’ I asked, finally.
‘Alex?’ James asked.
‘No, I don’t think he’s technically my ex yet.’ The Angela in the window looked back at me. I wiped away the lip gloss that was smudged around her mouth and fluffed her hair. She was starting to look a little bit more familiar. Familiar and really, really pissed off. ‘My ex-boyfriend in London. He was cheating on me with this girl from his tennis club. I found him having sex with her in the back seat of our car at my best friend’s wedding.’
‘Oh,’ James sounded more than a little bit confused. ‘Sorry.’
‘Mmm. It was the most embarrassing moment of my entire life.’ I traced my reflection’s features in the steamed-up glass of the window. ‘It was awful … horrible. Being embarrassed like that in front of all my friends, my family. Being betrayed by someone I trusted. Honestly, I thought I’d never get over it.’
‘I can imagine,’ he said cautiously.
‘But once I’d pissed in his shaving bag and vanished halfway around the world, I felt a lot better.’ I reached across the seat and took James’s hand.
‘Really?’ he breathed out.
‘Yeah. Oh, and I might have broken the groom’s hand during his first dance.’ I gave James’s impossibly clammy hand a quick squeeze. ‘He knew about the affair and didn’t tell me. Don’t you think that was a really shitty thing to do?’
‘Yes?’ James’s tan had faded to a slightly sickly green colour.
‘I can’t begin to imagine what I would do to someone if they embarrassed me in front of – oh, I don’t know – the entire celebrity-obsessed Western hemisphere?’
‘Angela, seriously—’
I squeezed his hand tighter. ‘God, I don’t know. I’d have to pay some tramps to shit in his car or something.’
‘Really, I’ll sort it all out,’ James squeaked.
‘Or I could go back, have a chat with the paps about his secret gay lover?’ I shrugged.
For a moment, James fell silent. ‘They wouldn’t believe you.’
‘I reckon there’re two schools of thought there, James.’ I dug my fingernails into his palm before throwing his hand back in his lap. ‘The first one, which I was really clinging to until tonight, is that yeah, no one really believes what they read on celebrity websites. But the other one is the one that has really stood the test of time.’
His gorgeous blue eyes were completely blank. It was quite depressing.
‘You know how they say there’s no smoke without fire,’ I pursed my lips. ‘It would be excellent gossip, wouldn’t it? Even if no one believed it. Definitely worth printing.’
‘No one would print it,’ James shook his head. ‘It’s too dangerous. They’d think I’d sue. And you wouldn’t do that.’
The car suddenly pulled to a stop. I opened the door to see a row of stars stretching out along the pavement. We were in front of The Hollywood. Thank God.
‘Angela, please. We have to talk.’ James reached out to pull me back into the car.
‘Do you really want to piss me off any more this evening?’ I asked, shaking off his hand. ‘I was serious about the tramps.’
He let go of my hand, launching me out onto the pavement. I stumbled forward, catching my balance between Greta Garbo and Julie Andrews. Great, a nun and a recluse. Also known as my future.
‘Pick up the phone, pick up the phone,’ I chanted, pacing up and down my room waiting for Alex to answer. My laptop lay open on the bedroom table, pictures of me and James kissing, him throwing me in the car, the look of shock and anger on my face already mistaken all over the internet for impatience and passion. Of course he wasn’t picking up the phone.
It was probably for the best, I thought, throwing my phone across the room. For a shocking change, I really hadn’t worked out what I was going to say to him. ‘Alex, the world-famous movie star that the entire world knows has done it with dozens of gorgeous women, is actually super gay. Only it’s a secret so please don’t tell anyone.’ Nope, it just didn’t have a ring of truth to it. I had to think about how I was going to explain before he called back.
Unless he called back right away.
‘Alex?’
‘Angela.’
‘Alex,’ I took a deep breath, ‘I had to speak to you before you saw the pictures.’
‘Angela, I already saw the pictures, remember?’ Alex said slowly. ‘And we were going to talk about it when you get back.’
‘Well, yes, but,’ I looked back at the computer, ‘they were the ones from yesterday.’
‘Meaning?’
‘There might be some more?’
I sat down on the bed and stared at my toenails. Given that I was only a couple of floors above Hollywood Boulevard at midnight, the room was very quiet. They really should mention that on their website. Total selling point.
‘From the same night?’
‘No, but I can explain.’
‘What site are they on?’ Alex asked, his voice completely flat. ‘Or is it just all of them again?’
‘Alex, please don’t look, just let me explain.’ I winced at the sound of clicking keys down the line. Of course he was by his computer.
‘Gotta say, you look good,’ he said eventually. ‘And how many guys actually get to see their girlfriends cheat on them in real time? God bless the internet.’
‘Alex, just stop.’ I stood up; drama always felt
