‘I’ll bet you missed me?’ he asked playfully.
‘It’s been very quiet without you,’ she admitted. ‘Svetlana is still asleep: thank goodness.’
‘Well, my fellow traveller, I have good news for you and I have bad news.’
‘I’m not sure I want to hear any more bad news at the moment,’ Annie replied, which was putting it mildly.
Randall went to the Bentley and unscrewed the petrol cap. He began to pour in petrol a little too messily for Annie’s liking, as splashes kept escaping and sliding down the side of the car.
‘OK, the good news: we’re just a mile or so from a good road with a big service station,’ he told her. ‘So once I’ve put this in we can drive down there and fill up properly. From there, the motorway is only like seven kilometres away – that’s not far, is it?’
‘Four miles or so,’ Annie said.
‘And then you’re only 15 kilometres from Vienna.’
‘We’re 15 kilometres from Vienna? Is that all?’ Annie could hardly believe it. ‘But we’ve not seen a single town.’
‘We’ve come in on a strange route.’
‘You were the map reader,’ she reminded him.
‘European maps,’ Randall said, as if that explained it, ‘I’m obviously not used to them. But have faith. This was the path we were meant to take. The reason for the detour may not be obvious now, but its meaning will be revealed in time.’
‘You might have to stop with that, before I smack you.’
He had emptied the container and now turned to her with a smile: one of his cool, make that super-chilled, saintly, surfer smiles.
It was impossible not to smile back.
‘OK, so what’s the bad news?’ Annie asked. ‘And am I going to be able to cope with it?’
‘I’m not going to Vienna with you. I’m going to the other side of the motorway to hitch a lift to Spain. I met a fellow traveller at the service station and he’s waiting for me. Spain is where the world-class breakers can be found.’
Annie gave a little ‘oh’ and suddenly found herself in a bear hug, her face squashed against the kind of taut muscular chest she associated with perfume ads.
‘We feel close right now, don’t we?’ Randall said, which was sort of stating the obvious.
She could feel his massive chest vibrating as he said the words. His arms were holding her tightly and his heart was beating just beside her ear.
She nodded.
‘That’s being on the road. People meet and share their stories and suddenly they’re best friends in a day. Or closer …’
Annie breathed in his salty, sweaty smell and let
her
arms hug him back, feeling solid muscle beneath her touch.
Whoa …
She had to pull right back here. She might have been through a lot of stress lately, but there was no need to do anything crazy. His handsome face hovered for a moment a little too closely over hers.
‘Thanks, Randall,’ she said with forced cheeriness, pulling her face safely out of his way, ‘thanks for getting the petrol. That was very kind.’
She let her arms drop from his sides, so he let go too, then she turned quickly away. As she did, he landed a cheeky slap on her bum.
‘Randall!’ she said in her best bossy mum voice.
‘I’d have kissed you, just to be nice,’ he said, shooting her another lazy grin.
‘Well, that’s … um …’ Annie realized she was blushing and feeling properly flustered: ‘nice to know.’
The Bentley’s passenger door flew open and a loud, unmistakable voice exclaimed: ‘Annah? Where are we? This is not Vienna!’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
New York
Lana ready to go:
Skinny logoed sweater (Markus Lupfer, via The Outnet)
Denim pencil skirt (Banana Republic)
Black footless tights (Gap)
The blue polka-dot shoes (Chie Mihara, but on sale)
Total est. cost: $220
LANA CHECKED HERSELF
over carefully in the bathroom mirror as she applied a final dab of lip gloss. She was almost satisfied. The dark eye make-up was edgy enough and although she’d fiddled with her hair for ages, it didn’t look too done and it hadn’t gone crazy with static.
She looked good. Face and hair: gold star. Outfit:
could
do better. But she’d already ransacked her wardrobe, tried on five different outfits and she’d decided this was the best she could do. So there was no point torturing herself about it.
Her best outfit was the one she’d worn to the club opening and she couldn’t wear it again. Not for a date with the same guy. Especially Parker. He designed fabric, for goodness’ sake! He would notice.
So she was going to chill about the top and the skirt she was wearing. They weren’t the most rocking combination in the known universe, but they’d do. She was going to chill right out … and wear the polka-dot shoes again – because she couldn’t help thinking of them as her lucky shoes.
She was going on this date. She’d made that decision as she’d walked home, blazing with anger about the row with Gracie. Yes, Gracie had met Parker first. But they were supposed to be just friends. Had Parker done anything to suggest otherwise? Lana pushed earrings into the tiny holes in her lobes and glared at the mirror with defiance.
A buzz on the apartment’s intercom made her jump. The buzzer never rang, except occasionally in the morning when the mailman was making a delivery.
Mailman
, she checked herself with a smile. How could she be calling the postman the mailman?
She
couldn’t do that if she was to milk the whole Londoner-abroad image.
She picked up the intercom handset with a brisk ‘Hello.’
‘Delivery,’ came the abrupt reply.
‘OK, come on up, 14th floor.’
She hit the unlock button.
Lana was glad that Elena wasn’t at home this evening. Elena would of course ask why she was taking so much trouble with her look. Elena would want to know everything about her date and Elena would totally guess that Parker was the cause of all the effort.
Truthfully, Lana couldn’t resist meeting Parker. She couldn’t help wanting to know what he thought. Did he really like her? Could they get together? Could she ever be super-cool Parker’s girlfriend? She would just die of regret if she didn’t at least try to find out.
She heard footsteps heading down the hallway towards the apartment door, so she slid out the bolt and opened the door a little. This was New York City, you were supposed to be ultra-careful.
She peeked out, expecting someone weighed down with a parcel and a clipboard, but was astonished, not to mention nervous, to see Gracie striding down the hallway towards her.
Lana would have slammed shut the door and slid
the
bolt back into place before she could listen to another angry word, but Gracie had already seen her.
And then Gracie smiled. What did
that
mean?
‘Hi …’ Lana began nervously.
‘Hi,’ Gracie said … too cheerfully.
‘You look really nice,’ were Gracie’s next words as she came towards the door.
Lana just stood there, frozen.
‘Aren’t you going to let me in?’
‘I don’t … I mean, aren’t you still really annoyed with me? Or has something changed?’
‘Yes, something has changed.’
Lana held her breath and realized she was waiting for terrible news. Parker had cancelled … Parker had invited Gracie too, Gracie instead. Yes, Gracie was going on this date and not her.
‘I’m not angry with you any more,’ Gracie said simply.
Lana waited anxiously for the reason.
‘You’re just doing what I would have done if he’d asked me out first.’
Lana felt a small sense of relief.
If
– Gracie had said ‘if’, and that could only mean one thing: Parker hadn’t asked Gracie out.
Gracie was looking at her expectantly. It was obviously Lana’s turn to talk.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t even tell you that I liked him,
so
it must have been a surprise. A nasty surprise,’ she offered, apologetically.
‘It was, kinda,’ Gracie said, but gave a shrug, ‘but I guess I’ll get over it.’
Lana looked at her, eyes wide with surprise. ‘Really?’ she couldn’t help asking. ‘Do you really think so?’
Gracie shrugged again and smiled: ‘Yeah, well … You need to find out all about him, so that when you guys break up I can decide whether I want to go after him or not,’ she said in a teasing voice.
‘Gracie! I can’t break up with him because I’m not even going out with him,’ Lana protested. ‘This is just a go-see – who knows what will happen?’
‘He’ll like you, I’m sure. Who wouldn’t?’
‘That is too nice of you. Way too nice. Do you want to come in? I’ve got to go in like ten, but come in till then, help me pick out my shoes,’ Lana said, even though she’d already decided.
‘That will be too easy,’ Gracie said, following Lana into the hallway of her apartment. ‘You have to wear the polka-dot shoes! Like, so totally obvious.’
‘Is my outfit OK?’ Lana asked a little anxiously. ‘I mean it’s not the best, but I wore my best one last time – so is this OK?’
‘Well, that’s the other reason I’m here,’ Gracie began. She unhooked her straw basket from her shoulder and brought out a plastic bag.
‘I think you should wear this.’
Lana took the bag, opened it up and peered inside. She knew at once what she was looking at.
‘You are joking! Where did you get this? How did you get this? And you brought it to me!’
Lana put her hands into the bag and brought out a soft, slouchy tunic dress: it was gorgeous, drapy, funky and – all importantly – made from the blue and yellow print that Parker had designed.
‘I absolutely love it! It’s amazing!’ Lana gushed. ‘Oh my goodness. This is an NY Perfect Dress and it’s unbelievably good!’
‘Yeah. I stormed back to the office after I left you and Elena was still there with this whole rail of new NY Perfect Dress dresses and they are way, way better than I could ever have imagined.’
‘Look,’ Lana said, holding the dress up in front of her. It was a great cut and made of supple, fluid fabric which she knew would hang and cling in just the right kind of way. The neckline was a simple scoop and the three-quarter-length sleeves were wide with a gathered button detail at the ends.
‘Oh,’ she held the sleeve button in her fingers, ‘that’s just right, just enough detail to give it a lovely finish, but nothing fussy to detract from the pattern.’
‘Try it on! Try it on!’ Gracie insisted.
‘What should I wear underneath?’
‘Tight trousers, the polka-dot shoes and I
might
allow you to wear a belt if it’s too baggy.’
Lana rushed to her room to change. When she came back out into the living space she and Gracie did a little victory dance together, because the dress was so good.
‘Imagine what he’ll say when he sees you wearing his fabric and rocking it!’
‘It’s definitely his fabric?’ Lana asked. ‘It just … I dunno … It looks a little familiar to me.’
‘No, it’s definitely his – a Parker Bain original. He’s going to go crazy for you.’
Lana reached for her friend and flung her arms around her.
‘Gracie, I hope you know you’re the best. Only the best kind of friend would do something as nice as this. I am not the one rocking tonight. You totally rock.’
Gracie hugged her back.
‘Go knock him out,’ she said, ‘and I’m sorry I yelled at you.’
‘I’m just really sorry there aren’t two Parkers. Do you think we could clone him?’
‘Maybe he has a brother? Please ask.’
‘Do you really like him so much?’ Lana looked at her friend in total seriousness.
‘Yeah. I just finished with Bingham, because you have to be honest. If I’m thinking this much about Parker, well, I had to let Bingham go.’
‘Gracie, I can’t go. I can’t go on this date. This is obviously your guy.’
‘Don’t be crazy. Go. Check him out. We’ll worry about cloning him when you’re sure he’s a good one.’
‘Are you sure? Are you really, really sure?’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Austria
The garage customer:
Inter-Milan football top (gift from son)
Jeans (Lee)
Leather man bag (Steffl department store)
Trainers (Adidas)
Total est. cost:
€
220
‘ANNAH?’ SVETLANA REPEATED
, ‘What is going on? Why are we here? It is dark already, why are we not in Vienna?’
After such a long, pill-induced nap, Svetlana’s blonde beehive was tufty and askew and she wobbled a little on her heels as she walked, but she still looked a formidable sight. The way she was
glaring
was making Annie feel horribly nervous.
‘We ran out of petrol. But Randall has been to the station and filled the car up again. We’re all ready to go: only 15 kilometres from Vienna,’ Annie added quickly.
Thankfully, instead of having the tantrum Annie was still expecting, Svetlana nodded curtly. Then she licked at her parched lips and asked, ‘Is there any water?’
‘Maybe in the minibar,’ Annie remembered. ‘Come on, we’ll get back into the car.’
As Svetlana downed the glass of mineral water Randall had poured for her, Annie started up the Bentley and followed directions to the service station. As soon as they reached it, they all piled out of the car once again: Annie and Svetlana planned on using the bathroom, stocking up with fuel, more mineral water and Austrian chocolate bars; Randall was to meet up with the fellow traveller headed for Spain on the other side of the motorway.
He released his surfboard and bungee ropes from the top of the car, then squared up to Annie to say goodbye.
‘I think we have to hug,’ he said with his arms already wide open.
‘A hug would be nice,’ she told him, ‘but nothing else. Don’t be getting any ideas.’
She found herself crushed up against his chest
again,
trying not to focus on the outline of a rock-solid pec right in front of her eyes.
‘I hope Spain is cosmically good,’ she told him.
‘It will be. Good luck in Vienna and make sure you have a really nice life. Make sure to get back in touch with your inner artist … or you’ll always be sorry.’