‘Hey, I just wanted to …’ Check you weren’t in the middle of a drug-fuelled orgy with a bunch of groupies. Or Kate Moss. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yeah, sorry, I can’t talk,’ Alex sounded as if he was outside and I was instantly homesick for the sound of sirens and honking horns. Groupies honking their horns at my Alex … ‘I’m just getting on the subway.’
‘Going anywhere nice?’ Like Kate Moss’s hotel room?
‘We’re gonna try out some new stuff at an open mic night in the city,’ he said. ‘See what it sounds like live.’
‘Really?’ I was surprised at how upset I was. He was going to try out new songs without me? ‘Wish I was there.’
‘Did you want me to wait until you got back?’
‘Yes. Will you?’
‘No.’
‘Oh.’
‘You were kidding, right?’
No, I thought. ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘of course. Let me know how it goes?’
‘OK, talk later.’ And he hung up.
‘Yes, the interview’s going great. No, I’m not going to have an affair with James but it’s sweet that you’re worried,’ I muttered to myself as I redialled Jenny.
‘Angie?’ she answered.
‘You’re all right then?’ I asked, faking annoyance. ‘Where were you last night? With Joe?’
‘No,’ she sniffed. ‘Sorry Angie, I can’t talk, I’m busy. And you don’t want to get in trouble with your movie star.’
I didn’t know what to say, she sounded slightly peeved. ‘Everything is fine with the interview. I wanted to check you were OK. I was worried when you didn’t come back to the hotel last night.’
‘Not worried enough to call before this afternoon or come out last night though, huh?’ she countered.
‘Miss J, come on!’ I heard Daphne yelling in the background. ‘Are you talking to that British chick?’
‘Sorry Jenny, I was so ill and I knew I was going to have to actually be able to think today. Can’t we go for dinner tonight?’ I asked. Moody Jenny was not fun.
‘I don’t think I’ll make dinner, we’re out,’ she said, vaguely. ‘I’m sorry, I know you’re working. I just hoped we were going to get to spend more time together. Where are you?’
‘The Roosevelt.’ I looked around at the beautiful interiors. ‘It’s so gorgeous here.’
‘Is James with you?’ Jenny asked, slightly more interested. ‘Could he get us on the list for Teddy’s?’
‘If I knew what that was, maybe.’
‘It’s the club in the Roosevelt.’ She sounded excited for the first time since she’d picked up the phone. ‘Go ask him and then call me back.’
‘I might have finished your burger,’ James said, not at all apologetically as I dropped back into my seat. ‘But if you wanted to order something else, I could absolutely help you with it.’
‘I’m fine,’ I said, idly picking at a tasty chip. ‘Suppose we should really crack on with the interview.’
James frowned. ‘Actually, I’m a bit knackered. How would you feel if we held off until tomorrow? I could do with an early night.’
‘Fair enough,’ I nodded. An early night? Not very Hollywood hell-raiser. ‘I ought to get one myself but I have a horrible feeling I’m going to end up out with my friend.’
‘Do you know where you’re going?’ he asked, polishing off the last bit of my bun and starting on the fries. ‘There are some right shit-tips around here if you’re not careful.’
‘She said something about Teddy’s? That’s here, isn’t it?’ I really couldn’t bring myself to ask him to get us in. It was just too embarrassing.
‘Yeah, Teddy’s is fun,’ James chewed thoughtfully, ‘but – and don’t take this the wrong way – it’s really hard to get in. What time were you thinking of going?’
I shrugged. ‘Don’t know – late, I think. Jenny is out doing … something.’ It bothered me that I didn’t know what that something was.
‘There’s no point really getting there before eleven. Tell you what, I’m going to go back to the hotel and then why don’t I come back and meet you here? I’m sure I’ll feel better later, and if I’m with the enemy, I’m less likely to get into trouble,’ he said before draining his Diet Coke.
‘The enemy?’ I was completely confused.
‘Journo,’ he nodded towards me.
‘Oh,’ I almost laughed out loud. ‘Sorry, I feel like I’m letting you down.’
James set down his glass and pushed my hair back behind my ear, his hand lingering against my flushed cheek. ‘It is a shame,’ he agreed.
His thumb traced my cheek, his fingers twisting themselves into my hair. His dark blue eyes found mine, searching them with something like a smile that just made it to the very corners of his mouth. I breathed out slowly, thinking what a good job it was that I hadn’t finished my burger, when my stomach did a triple somersault and my heart was catapulted to somewhere in my throat.
‘Well, I’d better let you go,’ I mumbled against his cool palm.
‘Sorry,’ James said, dropping his hand and his eyes. ‘I’d better let you go.’
This was absolutely, definitely going to be harder than I’d hoped, I thought as I staggered out of the restaurant. But maybe for completely different reasons than I had imagined.
The short walk from The Roosevelt to The Hollywood was just enough time to convince myself that the whole cheek-stroking incident hadn’t actually happened. And if it had, it was just because, as I had expected, James Jacobs couldn’t communicate with a girl unless he was trying to get in her pants. Except it hadn’t been that way all day. Looks aside, he was exactly the opposite of what I had expected. He wasn’t arrogant, he wasn’t rude and, irritatingly for Angela Clark, interviewer extraordinaire, he didn’t seem to want to talk about himself at all. Hmm. I’d been completely ready to fall in love with his beautiful face and expecting to grit my teeth and tolerate him being a total arse, but I wasn’t at all prepared for him to be nice. Even nicer than nice maybe. I needed a drink.
Standing by the barrier in The Hollywood’s rooftop bar, mojito in hand, the big white letters nestling in the hills didn’t seem any more real than they did on Saturday. If living in New York was like walking into a living movie, arriving
