Big Sexy Love: The laugh out loud romantic comedy that everyone's raving about!

by Kirsty Greenwood

  ‘Great! If I relax, this will pass.’

  ‘If I relax, this will pass.’

  ‘That’s correct! Now, I want you to watch me and I’m going to breathe in for four and out for four and I want you to copy me. Breathe in right from your belly, honey. Nice and slow now.’

  Holding Phyllis’s hand, I copy her as she breathes in and out. As we breathe and count, Seth leaves the booth, but I barely notice.

  I’m not sure how long we’re breathing for, but I feel my heart speed back up, my cheeks feel less warm, my shoulders less scrunched. I’m okay. Everything is okay.

  ‘That’s it,’ Phyllis says in a soothing voice. ‘There you go.’

  I wipe my wet hair back from my face. ‘Wow. Thank you. How did you do that?’

  ‘Fuckin’ anxiety. I used to have a lot of it.’

  ‘How did you get it to stop?’

  Phyllis shrugs. ‘It still visits occasionally. The best I can do is work at prevention. I’ve had to learn to relax with meditation and yoga. You can’t just expect it to go away on its own. You feeling better?’

  I blink, smiling in relief.

  Phyllis returns to the bar to serve the customers who now seem to be taking this storm as a signal to hunker down and get even more day drunk then they already are.

  Okay. Everything is okay.

  Except I now have less than thirty-six hours to find Chuck and deliver Birdie’s letter.

  I reach into my satchel and pull out my phone.

  I need to speak to Birdie.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  @ElissaJohnson

  So I spoke to the cops this morning for an update on my stolen key, and they say that the suspect was spotted trying to fish for cheques in a West Side mailbox!

  @ElissaJohnson

  She ran away! She ran away again. Does anyone know who she is?? Someone at @SundayNightLive MUST know. They impersonated her. I’m so confused and #angry.

  @ElissaJohnson

  Oh great. Now The Gramercy Neighbourhood Society say it will be another two weeks until I can get a new key!!! This is #horrendous

  @NewYorkDailyNews

  Hi Elissa. Follow us. We’d like to DM you about this.

  ‘Hello you! Where are you? It’s all dark!’

  ‘I’m in a bar bathroom in Staten Island,’ I tell Birdie, to which she gasps in delight. ‘I got the letter back!’ I say, deciding to start with a positive.

  ‘Amazing! You are the best. What a relief. I gotta say, I was panicking a bit. I put my whole heart into that letter. Phew!’

  ‘There’s bad news too… I’m stuck in Staten Island overnight. There’s a storm and there’s no way to get back to Manhattan.’

  Birdie’s face clouds over. ‘Are you all right? Where will you stay? Are you there alone? Shit, Olive.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I wave away her concern. ‘I’m here with Seth. He knows the owners of the bar.’

  ‘Seth? The TV show writer?’ Birdie raises an eyebrow.

  ‘Yeah, him. Anyway. I’m just worried because I won’t be able to get to Chuck today. Of course, there’s tomorrow, but it’s cutting it pretty fine, especially if he’s not still working there.’

  Birdie nods and bites her lip. She looks more tired than usual today. Her normally sleek pixie crop is a little messy and ruffled and her lips look pale.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I ask.’ You don’t look very well.’

  Birdie laughs, absent-mindedly rubbing her chest. ‘Oh I had a late night, you know. Giving a pleasant BJ to Dr BJ. We had a night of wild passion. Hence the messy hair.’

  ‘WHAT?’

  ‘I’m kidding!’ she giggles. ‘I wish. God, do I wish. I just didn’t sleep well. I miss you.’

  ‘I miss you too,’ I sigh, resting my head against the phone screen. Birdie does the same. We stay there for a moment.

  I pull back and my phone screen flickers. The video image goes still so that Birdie looks like a smiling statue.

  ‘Can you hear me?’ I call into the phone. ‘Birdie?’

  ‘Yeah… patchy… storm.’ Her voice is breaking up. The sound is all muffled.

  Shit. The weather must be affecting the signal.

  ‘Birdie?’ I try again, holding my phone in the air, as if this will help. ‘I will figure this all out, okay?’ I say. ‘Birdie? Don’t worry about anything! Birdie?’

  ‘Love… you… time… Chuck… relax…’ Her voice comes back muffled and erratic. I can’t tell what she’s trying to say!

  Then the screen goes black.

  She’s gone.

  Stoopid storm.

  When I return to the booth, Seth is sitting there, messing with his phone, two more beers on the table.

  ‘It’s not working.’ He points to his phone.

  ‘Me either,’ I say, holding up mine.

  ‘So… are you going to tell me about this letter?’ he asks as I sit down opposite him.

  I bite my lip. ‘Okay. But Seth?’

  ‘Olive?’

  ‘Everything I’m going to talk to you about is private. Please don’t tell anyone. Or write about it.’

  He holds up his hands. ‘We’re friends now right?’

  I feel a smile lift the corners of my mouth. ‘Well, I suppose we have survived a major storm together.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Seth holds his hand out for a high five, which I promptly return. ‘I only ever use the behaviour of complete strangers for comedy material. Not friends. So you’re safe.’

  I spend the next thirty minutes telling Seth all about Birdie and the mysteriously vanished Chuck. How the whole reason for me being here is to get this letter to the love of Birdie’s life before she dies. He asks the usual questions about treatments and cures and how long she has left. To which I give him all the sad answers Birdie and I have known for a while. But mostly he just listens, his eyes serious.

  ‘My flight back to Manchester is early Thursday morning. And I’m not even a hundred per cent sure that Chuck works at Chimes Investment! Hence the freak-out.’

  ‘Can’t you stay longer?’ Seth asks, drinking from his bottle and nudging mine over to me.

  I shake my head. ‘Not really. Birdie’s kidney surgery is a week Monday. I need to be back to help her prepare. She has no one else, you see.’

  I lift my beer bottle and take a sip.

  We both go quiet. Me thinking about what I’ve got to do. Seth thinking about who knows what.

  Eventually Seth speaks. ‘Why don’t you call the bank and speak to this Chuck fella. Check he’s definitely there? Arrange a time to meet him in the morning?’

  I bang my hand against my head. ‘Of course! Duh. That’s a really sensible idea. Thank you!’

  ‘I’ve never been called sensible before.’ Seth pulls a face. ‘I do not like it.’

  I immediately pick my phone up off the booth table and Google Chimes Investment.

  And then I remember that my reception is totally down, as is Seth’s.

  ‘We’ll use the landline in the back,’ Seth says.

  I follow him to the bar, were Phyllis cheerfully waves us through to a tiny storeroom, with a Barbie-pink 90s telephone set hanging on the wall. On the table below it is a thick paper phone book.

  ‘This is amazing,’ I say gleefully, picking up the phone. ‘So retro. And so pink!’

  Seth flips through the book until he finds the number for the bank, reciting it as I push the buttons on the handset.

  After a few rings someone answers.

  ‘Good afternoon, Chimes Investment, how may I direct your call?’

  ‘I’d like to speak to Chuck Allen please,’ I say as clearly as I can. I sound like Donna.

  ‘Putting you through to mergers and acquisitions.’

  Ooh, mergers and acquisitions. That sounds fancy!

  I tap my fingers against the phone, while Seth stands there, appearing to be studying an old calendar on the storeroom wall.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mergers and Acquisitions.’

  ‘Hi t
here. May I speak to Chuck Allen?’

  Please let him still work there. Please, jeebus, let him still work there.

  ‘Mr Allen has left for a meeting with a client,’ the woman on the other end informs me. ‘He will not be in the office until tomorrow. May I take a message’

  I gasp. ‘He’ll be there tomorrow?’ I do a little excited wiggle. ‘In the morning? Definitely?’

  ‘Yes he will,’ the woman says in a clipped voice. ‘May I ask who is calling?’

  My heart lifts with relief. This is okay. I can make this work. I have located Chuck Allen!!

  ‘It’s Olive. Olive Brewster,’ I say, a huge smile on my face. ‘Can I make an appointment with Chuck? For tomorrow?’

  The woman’s voice turns suspicious. ‘Mr Allen is a very busy man. I’m afraid he’s pretty tightly booked for the next month, at least. What is this regarding?’

  ‘Oh… um… It’s personal business. It’s urgent.’

  ‘Then you can get him on his personal number. We don’t make appointments for personal business.’

  Ugh, this woman is a right snooty patootie.

  ‘Of course. And his personal number is?’

  ‘Who are you? Is that you, Diane? Chuck said he never wanted to hear from you again! Stop calling. It’s over, Diane! Over!’

  This is going downhill very quickly.

  Pull it back, Olive!

  ‘Excuse me!’ I say imperiously. ‘This is not Diane! This is Olive. I… I need to see Chuck Allen immediately.’

  My shift in tone causes Seth to turn around from the wall calendar, a surprised half-smile on his face. He leans right in close so he can hear what’s going on. He’s so close. Really close. His ear is almost touching my ear. I feel peculiar.

  Focus Olive.

  I clear my throat. Somehow I don’t think the fact that I have a letter from Chuck’s old girlfriend is going to cut it with this suspicious woman…

  ‘I… I have a large investment to make,’ I say. ‘I am leaving Manhattan tomorrow evening on, um, a private plane. My private plane actually.’ I make my voice sound much posher. ‘This investment is of the utmost importance.’

  Seth’s eyebrows shoot up and he covers his mouth as he does a whispery laugh. He shoots a thumbs up.

  ‘Your query is financial, not personal?’ the woman says.

  ‘Finance is personal to me,’ I say haughtily. ‘I have some investments and some acquisitions to make and… merge. You know. Always Be Closing, as I like to say. I don’t mean to be crude but we are talking business worth at least… nine figures. Oh yes. It would be ghastly to have to tell your boss that he missed out on a very valuable client, especially after he was recommended to me so heartily by my friends at well… I shouldn’t say. Billionaires are a discreet bunch, as you know.’

  I have no clue what I am saying. Even if I’m making sense. I just know that I need this appointment with Chuck and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get it. Seth is enjoying all of this immensely. His shoulders are shaking with silent laughter.

  I think I might have completely fucked this up. I prepare to have the phone slammed down on me.

  ‘Ahem,’ the woman clears her throat. ‘I am sorry, madam. I didn’t realise you’d been personally recommended. Of course. Please excuse me. Mr Allen is very particular about who he meets with. Okay…Will ten thirty a.m. tomorrow suit? I can squeeze you in then?’

  ‘Yes!’ I yell. Then I cough and try to sound more like the character I’ve spontaneously concocted. ‘That will be, um, amenable. Thank you and… best wishes.’

  ‘Um, best wishes to you too, madam.’

  I hang the phone back in its holder and Seth puts his palm out for a high five. Laughing, I smack my hand against his, adrenaline coursing through my body.

  How the fuck did I just manage that? Yes! I will finally get to give Chuck Birdie’s letter! I won’t have let her down!

  ‘That was kind of amazing,’ Seth breathes, his eyes twinkling. We’re so close to each other in this tiny storeroom, I can see the flecks of pale green that make his eyes looks so turquoise.

  I take a deep breath. ‘I didn’t think she was going to believe me!’

  I open the storeroom door and we head back past a couple having a row by the pool table, towards our booth.

  ‘Have you ever tried improv?’ Seth asks when we sit down. ‘I have a feeling you’d be amazing at it. That phone call was insane.’

  I take a sip of my beer, my mood considerably lifted by the fact that I have finally located the enigmatic Chuck. ‘Is that what you were doing at the community theatre?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Seth smiles fondly. ‘But that was beginner’s stuff. We have a group at UCB – The Upright Citizen’s Brigade – and that’s professional improv and sketch comedy. A bunch of Sunday Night Live writers and cast members, including me, were discovered there. It’s pretty much making stuff up on the spot, but in a team.’

  ‘I’d be too scared. I wouldn’t know what to say!’

  ‘It can be nerve-wrecking at first but the buzz you get, the adrenaline. It’s ridiculous. It’s pure joy!’

  He looks so happy.

  ‘It sounds cool,’ I say. ‘And terrifying.’

  His eyes light up. ‘Oh man, Olive. You should definitely come and watch a show! You don’t have to try it, even just to watch. I really think you’d like it.’

  ‘I’m leaving Thursday morning, remember,’ I laugh, running my finger in a circle on the booth table. ‘But otherwise I would have really liked that.’

  Seth’s smile falls slightly. ‘Oh, yeah, of course.’ He taps the side of his beer bottle, ‘This must be going to my head already.’

  ‘Yeah. Three a.m. flight. And I’ll definitely be taking some Night Nurse. If I can knock myself out beforehand that’ll be for the best of everyone.’

  I feel my cheeks turn red, just thinking of the last flight. It occurs to me then that Seth had thought I wanted to join the Mile High Club with him. And he was willing to. Does that mean he found me attractive?

  Not that I’m bothered. Obviously. Seth is not even my type. He’s a bit rumpled, his hair needs a good cut and he’s way too laid-back. He’s definitely not the kind of guy who would have a five-year plan. He probably doesn’t even have a five-day plan. I mean, not that I have a type. People who don’t date or have sex don’t tend to have types. But if I did he would probably look a lot like Colin. Or maybe James McAvoy…

  ‘Three a.m.?’ Seth says, leaning his elbows on the table. ‘So you’d have to be at JFK around 12.30 a.m.’

  ‘Right…’

  ‘So technically, you could come to my improv show tomorrow night. It’s seven until nine. I have to go straight to work afterwards – it’s our writing night – and you would have plenty of time to make your flight. You could even bring your cases to the theatre.’

  I bite at my thumbnail, trying to work out my timings. I suppose I could book a cab in advance. Make sure I pack early…

  ‘I mean, you don’t have to,’ Seth says his eyebrows shooting up. ‘But you could… if you wanted to do. It might be fun. And it will definitely be funny.’

  I take a swig of my beer. It’s a bit last minute. But everything’s been last minute this week and here I am, much to my own surprise, figuring it out. And by tomorrow night Chuck will have the letter and I’ll have fulfilled my mission. And then I can get back to Birdie, where I belong.

  ‘Okay, then,’ I say, a smile lifting the corners of my mouth. ‘I’m in!’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Text from Taller Joan: Hello, my love. Me and Joan were talking about you today! We want to say that we really hope your mission is going well and that you are finding time to HAVE SOME FUN!!!! We are so jealous of you being in New York New York! Make the most of it. Love Joan and Joan of Joan’s Fresh Fish x

  ‘Noooo, you’re getting it wrong!’ I scold Seth for the gazillionth time. ‘You jump on the Oi. Heeeeey Macarena, Oi!’

  ‘Isn’t that what I did?
’

  ‘No, you jumped on the Macarena. Totally out of time. How are you not getting this?’

  ‘The Macarena is hard,’ Seth grumbles. ‘And I don’t think you’re teaching it correctly.

  ‘I’m a great teacher.’ I put my hands on my hips. ‘You just have a terrible sense of rhythm.’

  ‘I’ve never had any complaints,’ Seth says, his eyes glinting.

  God. What is happening? We are totally, totally flirting. How have we ended up flirting? I haven’t flirted in years. Maybe I have never even flirted at all? Even my conversations with Colin at the airport were all pretty polite and proper. We’ve flirted a little by text, but mostly we’ve been swapping information about the weather in our respective locales and asking questions like ‘if you were an animal what kind of animal would you be?’ and ‘what’s your favourite smell?’ And while I do love a good chat about the weather, and one of my favourite things is finding out what kind of animal a person would be, it’s not really flirting.

  What I’m doing with Seth right now is one hundred per cent, completely and utterly flirting. Seth has touched me on the arm three times. I have nudged him once with my elbow and touched his arm twice! I know this because I counted.

  Over the past hour or so I’ve found that I’m acting completely unlike my usual self around him. I’m laughing and quipping and flicking my hair and being daft like I usually only am with Birdie. Seth seems to find me genuinely funny. I told him about Donna’s candle business earlier, doing the impression of her I did for Birdie at the hospital and he clutched his stomach he was laughing so hard. I even did a sexy wiggle when I taught him the Macarena.

  Hmmm. Maybe I’m acting so out of character because the storm has been raging on for the past three hours and there’s an energy of panic and dark excitement in the bar. Maybe the danger of it turns me on. Maybe all this time, my lack of sexual feelings was nothing to do with the breakdown of my family or my need for control, but because I can only get the horn in a storm? It must be a thing. Storm horn. I wonder if there is storm porn for people who have the storm horn… I will do an incognito Google search when my phone reception returns and see what I can find out.