I muster a small smile and look away. “It’ll get easier.”
She takes a sip of the wine. “Nice wine.”
“How was he? When you saw him last week?”
I pause. “He just seemed so… unaffected… so normal. He was trying to keep to the schedule so he wouldn’t be late for his next meeting with some senator.”
“Meanwhile, I was a pathetic wreck.” I fight back the tears. “I craved his approval, wanting him to say my ideas were good. He just sat there deadpan. Then afterwards he casually told me he was having a baby.”
I let out a half snort, half cry. “He didn’t even notice the moment when he tore my heart into a million tiny little pieces.”
“He said it like it was the most casual thing in the world.” I sniffle. “Like, Hey, they made my coffee wrong, but I kind of like it.”
“Oh, Charlie.” She sets down the wine and pulls me for a hug. “I know it’s awful. But don’t leave
London because of that asshole.”
“Sorry.” I sob, wiping my tear-stained cheeks. “You come to visit me in New York, and I just sit here blubbering. Hardly the holiday you wanted. I’m so goddamn sick of crying.”
“I hope you haven’t been spending every night blubbering over Danny Walker.”
“Of course not.” I lie, looking away. “I’ve seen a lot of New York. It’s magical. Honestly, Julie, it’s amazing here.”
“How long do you have left?”
“Just one week.” I calculate. “I’ve been here seven weeks. Then I’ll have to return to reality.” I don’t want to think about my return to London, to the city of Danny, Jackie, and her unborn baby.
“Let’s get dressed up and get something to eat, ok?” I brighten up.
She nods. “You’ve lost a lot of weight, Charlie. You need feeding. I mean, you look fantastic, but you are skinny. If you don’t start eating, you’ll have pimples for tits.”
I let out a short laugh. “With all the despair gnawing at my guts, they’ve stopped working. Food is
just a chore now.”
“Enough sorrow.” She slaps her hand on the table. “Let me see this contract that Dreamwork has sent. One hundred thousand pounds. Is this for real?”
I grin and pull open my laptop. “I’m hoping my hotshot lawyer friend can help me figure that out. It’s likely a scam, so I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“Does he know?”
“Danny? Of course not.” I shrug. “He’s got no reason to know. We don’t talk now.”
She cocks a brow. “He would be impressed.”
“It’s irrelevant.” I shake my head. “It’s pointless trying to impress him. What good would come of it? A child is… irreversible.”
“Here.” I turn the laptop to her, and nerves flutter in my stomach. The moment of truth.
She puts on her glasses and starts reading.
“There must be a catch?” I ask tentatively, watching her. It read too good to be true. Dreamworks want to buy the rights to use one of my songs in a movie.
She keeps on reading, and I wait with bated breath.
The silence breaks with a half-laugh, half-screech.
“No catch. Charlie, this is fucking legit.”
We stare at each other for a moment then the silence is broken with hysterics.
“My song? My song?” I shout as we dance around the kitchen like idiots.
“Fuck Walker!” Julie shouts, splashing wine all over his expensive floor. “Charlie, after this movie comes out, you’ll be dating movie stars.”
I grin back. Danny Walker can go to hell. I didn’t need him. All he ever brought me was pain.
***
Christmas time in New York is magical. It’s five days before Christmas, and I know I’m going to be getting on that return flight home kicking and screaming.
Julie has just flown home this morning, and we’ve done everything from visiting the winter villages, skating around the Rockefeller, watching Broadway shows to sitting on sexy Santa’s knee at a late night club in Greenwich, telling him to forgive us for being naughty girls this year.
I could write a best-selling guide on what to do in New York if you are a heartbroken tourist. Most of it involves hard liquor.
Tonight is my leaving party from the New York branch. I’m heading back to London for the Christmas break to mull over whether I want to relocate here. I’m conflicted, to say the least.
We’re making real traction now, development has started, and we think we will have the first version out for beta testing with a few selected clients in six months’ time. This is the most excited I’ve ever felt about a work project, and for the first time, I feel valued. Laura is a fantastic boss; she’s the type of woman that builds you up and encourages you to be brave about your ideas. I can’t believe I tolerated working under dickface Mike for so many years.
I haven’t seen or heard from Danny since except for the all-staff conference calls.
The pain is slowly but surely fading; I guess what they say about time healing everything is true. I’m finding more things to distract me and replace the sorrow with some happiness.
I’ve even been on a few dates, but I’m too raw to do anything more than mildly flirt. If I tried to have sex, I think I’d start sobbing my head off. I’d see a rogue dick, and my body would physically reject it. God damn Danny Walker for giving me the best orgasms of my life. I might as well go celibate from now on in.
The Dead Rabbit is heaving. It seems like every office in New York decided to have a Christmas party here tonight. We are crammed in like drunken, sweaty sardines.
There are people I don’t know, friends of friends, and those who wanted to jump on the free drinks bandwagon.
I’m doing shots with Laura, Joe, and some of the developers. The shot size is so much larger in New York than in London, and I’m ramming them down my throat as fast as oxygen.
It’s a good thing I’ve booked a few days’ holidays. I’m flying back in 2 days, so I should have recovered from my hangover by then.
“Are you going to stay with us, Charlie?” Laura shouts, trying to be louder than the entire bar singing along to Fairytale of New York by the Pogues.
“I’m definitely considering it.” I grin at her.
“Good.” She hands me a strange green shot. I smell it and grimace. “Because you fit in so well here. You’re sailing towards a promotion. I don’t want to influence your decision, but I’d love it if you stayed in New York.”
“Jesus.” Karl leans in behind me, sniffing the tray of green shots.
“Karl!” I swing my arm around his neck, a little too drunk.
“Easy girl.” he laughs. “If you vomit that green stuff over my shoes, I’m not allowing you back in the country.”
“You two knew each other before, didn’t you?” Laura looks between us curiously.
“That’s right,” I shout over the music. “He’s my brother’s friend.”