“So, it’s getting serious between you and Jake then?”
Lydia’s expression comes over all dreamy. “We just fit, Jessica. We work perfectly together even though we are different in so many ways. He has made me less self-absorbed and I have made him more spontaneous, apparently.” She sweetly shrugs her shoulders.
“I bet you have, Lydia Mason.” With my teasing, slanted grin: I am greeted by her thrilled and proud eyebrow.
I spot Simon smirking to himself in the rear view mirror, pretending to concentrate on the road ahead.
“Seriously, darling. He is a wonderful person. I am lucky to have him in my life,” Lydia gushes.
“So, there’s no running for the hills just yet then?” I ask with interest.
“These feet aren’t running anywhere, I have never felt this way about anyone Jessica . . . you know that. I love him very much.” Lydia’s face is aglow with love. Not only is my life changing, so is hers.
“I couldn’t be happier to hear that, Lydia. I honestly thought you would back off once you realised how strongly you felt for him.”
Lydia’s brown eyes, widen. “So did I! We both know my track record with commitment is less than impressive, darling.”
“I cannot believe that Jake has somehow managed to tame THE Lydia Mason,” I tease.
“I cannot believe that you have bagged yourself the rather gorgeous Jonny Riley. That we are being taken to the shops by your very own driver and that you are now living in Chelsea . . . it’s bloody insane!” She bounces in her seat like a young, excited child.
I smile. “I can tell you it has taken some getting used to, but I’m getting there I think. I am taken very good care of.” I glance up at Simon who gratefully smiles back at me.
“You deserve it, darling. If only your girls were here to enjoy it, too. Then your life really would be complete.”
I agree with a sad smile. “I am going to try and see them next week.”
Lydia crosses her leg, resting her hands on her elegant knee. “Really?”
I nod hard, with an angst-ridden frown. “I’ve been very patient, but I’ve had enough of waiting. I need to know how they are.” I reply with strong determination. It is true. I am tired of waiting for a response. It is torture, hoping that each day that comes. . . . will be the day that they finally get in touch.
Lydia gently rubs my hand in a caring and thoughtful way. I know she is thinking carefully how to choose her next words. “I really hope it works out for you Jessica. Just don’t be too hard on yourself or them, if they are still not yet ready.”
“I just need to try, Lydia.”
“Of course you do, my darling. You will call me to tell me how it goes, won’t you?” I nod solemnly at her request.
We continue our journey in quiet contemplation, taking in London Town as it passes us both by. I have many ‘pinch me’ moments and this is one of them. Here I am, being driven through London by my own driver. Who is employed by my beautiful Jonny Riley. My wonderful man. To top it all off, I am with my commitment phobic boss and friend, Lydia Mason. Who is no longer fearful of a real relationship and has gone and fallen in love! Pinch me someone . . . now!
“Right ladies, here you are. Jessica, just give me a call when you want me to pick you up, okay?” Simon says.
“Thanks, Simon,” I respond with a huge smile on my face.
He gets out of the car, opening the passenger door for me. Lydia slides along the seat to get out my side. She smiles sweetly at Simon who politely reciprocates. “I could get very used to this, too.” Lydia smirks at me, all the while casting her minx-like eyes over a now slightly embarrassed Simon.
“Come on, you . . . let’s find something fabulous to wear for this evening.” I link my arm through hers and we lightheartedly walk down the street together like we don’t have a single care in the world.
Lydia and I are having such fun going from trendy shops to small boutiques. Lydia has chosen a stunning black cocktail length, chiffon number, while I have chosen a slinky knee-length halter neck dress in liquid gold. It is quite simply a dress that has sex interwoven into its sassy fabric.
We stop for lunch at a quaint little restaurant, enjoying a light meal of quiche and salad followed by a small glass of ice cold chardonnay.
We walk to the nail salon like giddy teenagers, discussing what colours we should choose for our nails. Lydia is torn between a metallic grey or blood red, whereas I am thinking French manicure or a nude colour.
“We can ask the girls what they would recommend with our outfits,” I say to Lydia, who nods in agreement.
“We had better do that before the champagne kicks in, darling; otherwise, we’ll be too pissed to care,” Lydia giggles.
“Good idea. We don’t want to end up with ten different colours on our nails.” We are still laughing as we enter the salon. A young lady approaches us upon entry to the swish salon.
“Afternoon, ladies. My name is Khloe, how can I help you today?”
“Hi there, I have booked a champers and polish session. My name is Jessica Neel.”
“Ah, yes. Come this way please.” We follow Khloe to a room, which has comfy cream leather chairs placed around a funky glass coffee table. The wall behind the high nail bar has every colour you could ever imagine, coordinated from the lightest shade to the darkest shade in neatly arranged rows. There are three, very high but trendy stools to sit on beside the nail bar. I can’t help but smile, thinking to myself how bloody interesting they are going to be to get down from after a few glasses of bubbly.
Another young girl, carrying two flutes and a chilled bottle of champagne joins Khloe. She confidently approaches us. “Hi, my name is Carly. I’ll be joining Khloe to do your nails today. Are you ready for your drinks now?”
Lydia eagerly reaches for the glasses. “Get pouring, darling, this girlie is thirsty.”
“Yes please, Carly.” I reply in a much less brazen manner. The attentive young girl proceeds to fill our flutes with the finest champagne.
“Here are all the colours, do you need some time to have a think before choosing your nail polish?” Khloe looks over her shoulder, then back at us as her elegant hand points in the direction of all the nail polishes.
“Ah, a drinky and a thinky.” Lydia takes a large sip of her champagne, laughing loudly. Oh, deary me!
“I apologise for my friend here, I just can’t take her anywhere.” I say, looking unimpressed at my slightly tipsy friend.
I try to not succumb to Lydia’s silliness but I am soon pulled into it. She looks at me, over the rim of her flute and we both end up laughing, like silly young girls. Khloe and Carly, though hesitant at first, soon join in.
Lydia tries to compose herself while in the midst of her laughter. “Don’t mind me, I’m just having fun.”
I compose myself with a clearing of my throat. “Okay girls, I have a question for you. If I show you my dress, do you think you could choose a nail varnish for me?” I throw a teasing look of disdain to Lydia and smile warmly at Carly. The poor things really aren’t quite sure how to take us.
“Of course.” Khloe says with a big smile.
I carefully take out my beautiful dress, proudly showing it to the envious young girls. “Ooooh, it is lovely, gorgeous colour, too.” Carly’s mouth is wide open as she touches it with an admiring hand.
“I was thinking maybe a deep red or nude varnish?” I ask, still holding the dress high.
“What colour are your heels?” Khloe asks.
“Gold.”
She nods, looking impressed. “I think you should go for gold all the way,” Khloe confidently replies.
“Really?” I ask.
“Definitely,” she confirms.
“Gold it is then. What about you, Lydia?” I ask my dear but by now, slightly drunk friend.
“I was thinking devil red, but I love that matte silver, too.” She points at the colourful shelf behind Khloe.
“This one?” Khloe holds the light metallic
varnish in her hand.
“That’s the one, darling,” Lydia affirms.
“What colour dress will you be wearing?” Khloe asks.
“It’s black, a divine little cocktail dress,” Lydia answers.
“Silver nails would look great, and it’s a little different from the usual red polish that ladies wear with a black dress,” Khloe says.
“I think you’re right. I will have the silver, please,” Lydia says, wriggling her fingers.
“That’s a lovely colour, Lydia. We are going to dazzle our men tonight,” I say with an excited gleam in my eye.
“That we will, Jessica.”
We both get comfortable on our ridiculously high stools as the girls start to do our nails. I think with the champagne flowing and being pampered, now is a good time to talk to Lydia about my work plans.
“Lydia, I want to discuss with you my returning to work,” I start out.
“Are you still considering it then?” Lydia asks.
“I am, but I’ve spoken to Jonny and I’ve really thought things through. I am now thinking that maybe I should reduce my hours. I know Katie who is temping for you is young, but do you think we could train her up so she is able to take on more responsibility?”
Matter of factly, Lydia responds. “I have already been doing so.”
“Oh, I see.” There’s an awkward pause.
“Don’t look so downhearted, Jessica. I knew this was coming, darling. I have been thinking about your situation, too. Your life is different now, you live in London and you need to sort things out with your girls. I know I’m your boss, but I value our friendship much more. There is no real need to return to work anymore, is there?” she asks.
“I know things have changed, but I still want to work Lydia. I still need a little something for me,” I say.
Lydia turns her head. “What hours were you thinking?”
I nervously adjust my sitting position. “I was hoping I could come to the office one day a week. I will stay overnight on that day to see the girls. I can still go to the trade fairs and events, but I’ll liaise from London, Simon can drive me wherever I need to go. I’ll have my own little office in the library at Jonny’s, so Katie can have my desk. I am sure she won’t mind sharing her desk with me for just one day. The beauty of my reduced hours, is that it should now enable you to afford employing her,” I quickly explain my plan.
Lydia has a thoughtful smile, spanning her attractive face. “You have really thought this through, haven’t you?”
“I have,” I say, returning her smile.
“What does Jonny think about you coming back to work?” Lydia asks.
“He’s okay about it, actually. Originally, I wanted to come back four days a week, which he certainly wasn’t too keen on. When I sat down and really thought things through, I realised it would be too much for me. I also thought about what you said. My life has changed dramatically, but I still need to do something for me, Lydia. It has always been important to me, to be an independent woman. Stepping into Jonny’s world, only makes that even more important to me now. I don’t want people thinking I am completely dependent on him, just because of who he is. Or even worse, I am only with him for his money. Working at Mason’s Toys is my little bit of normality, away from Jonny’s fame. I will completely understand if it’s not want you want, Lydia. Please don’t think that I will be offended if you think it won’t work with me working from here. Regardless, I had to ask.” I look down, watching Khloe apply my chosen nail colour in precise, slow strokes. I lift my eyes, turning my head to look at Lydia.
She wears a relaxed grin. “I am delighted that you want to return to Mason’s Toys, I really am. I am happy for you to come back in whatever capacity you can, darling. It will take some getting used to, but I’m sure we will quickly settle into a new way of doing things. Katie is a real sweetheart, you are going to absolutely love her.” Lydia flashes me one of her very best ‘it is going to be all right’ smiles.
“Are you sure you are happy with my plan, Lydia?”
“I’d say if I wasn’t, darling. So when are you wanting to start?”
“After Christmas.” I reply, feeling relieved and delighted that Lydia has agreed to my new work plan.
“Well, let’s drink to that.” Lydia carefully clinks her glass with mine. I desperately want to tell her about Jonny filming in New York, but now is not the time. We are in front of Khloe and Carly, although they are probably now fully aware of who I am. I just don’t feel comfortable discussing Jonny’s confidential business, in front of them. Although I really need to talk to someone about it, I decide to save that conversation for later. I don’t want to dampen our high and spirited mood.
My mind wanders off to Jonny . . . my beautiful Jonny! “I wonder how the boys are getting on?” I ask.
“If I know Jake. He will be happily playing golf, and probably doing his David Bellamy; telling Jonny about every plant near the golf course,” Lydia says with a gentle snort.
“He’s interested in botany?” I ask with wide eyes.
“Is he ever? He is forever identifying plants everywhere he goes, bless him. I now know my stigma from my stamen and a pollen tube from an ovule,” Lydia laughs at her own words.
“Wow . . . I’m impressed. You have really learned some things from your Mr. Carter, haven’t you?”
Lydia’s telling brow arches. “Darling, with botany. I always use a little bit of crude word association to enable me to remember it all.”
My lips purse with silent amusement. “I’m not even going to ask.” I say, gently shaking my head.
Together we laugh some more, as do Khloe and Carly who are no longer looking uncomfortable around us. I think they were holding back before to maintain their professionalism.
“Okay Jessica, you are all finished.” I stretch my delicate fingers out, admiring the glossy gold varnish upon my long nails.
“They look fabulous, Khloe. Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure.”
“Let’s see yours, Lydia?” She proudly shows me her iridescent silver nails, playfully wriggling her fingers in front of my face.
“They look fantastic,” I tell her.
Lydia looks up at a smiling Carly. “Don’t they? Thank you, Carly. I absolutely love them!”
“That’s okay, Lydia. Make sure you ladies enjoy a wonderful evening, won’t you?”
“Oh, we will.” Lydia tries to get off the stool in a lady like fashion, but the combination of heels and champagne makes it almost impossible to do. For myself, the mixture of watching a tipsy Lydia tackling the stool dismount and my own intake of champagne, reduces me to hysterics. Even through the alcohol induced haze, it feels good to be laughing in such a lighthearted and foolish way.
“What’s the time?” I compose myself long enough to ask Khloe.
“It’s nearly twenty to four.”
“I’d better call Simon to collect us, Lydia. We have to get ready for dinner tonight,” I inform her.
“Mmm . . . the lovely Simon. You do that, darling; call him now,” she subtly slurs.
“God, I think I’m pissed.” Hang on. I don’t think, I know . . . I am indeed pissed! I am trying really hard to concentrate on my phone’s keypad so I can call Simon. Lydia giggles at my entertaining attempts of tapping in Simon’s number.
“Hi Simon, we are ready. Can you come and get us, please? Okay . . . yes . . . right. Okay, we will see you soon.” Shit! That was hard to try and sound sober! God, I really am pissed!
By the time Simon collects us, our intoxicated selves and the fresh air leave the two of us acting like a pair of foolish teenagers. The only difference being, our choice of attire and alcohol is much more expensive now.
“Afternoon, Simon,” I slur.
“Jessica.” He nods and smiles with narrowing eyes.
“Here is the lovely Simon. I’m afraid we are a tad worse for wear, darling.” Lydia’s glazed eyes flirt outrageously at a feebly smiling Simon.
&nbs
p; “Have you had fun today, ladies?” Simon politely tries to make normal conversation.
“We have, Simon, but I think . . . I think . . . we have overdone it on the champagne,” I stumble over my words as I look across at a stupidly grinning Lydia.
She lays sideways, her head now in my lap. “Overdone it? We haven’t even started yet, my darling! We have the whole evening to get more champagne down our necks.”
I lightly hit her arm. “You are a terrible influence, Lydia Mason. Jonny won’t let me out with you, ever again,” I say with drooping drunk eyelids.
With a pissed and pointing finger, Lydia speaks with a slow slur, “Darling, terrible influence should have been my middle name.”
I waft an equally as drunk finger, in front of her face. “Yes, it should have. Do you remember that time we had too much tequila? You got told off for dancing on a table. So you got off that table and climbed onto another one, asking “is this one all right?” My head tilts back onto the leather headrest, laughing at the funny memory.
“Isn’t that the same night you got your tits out?” she asks.
I clamp my freshly polished fingernails over my mouth. “Oh, shit . . . yes, it was.”
“We never drank tequila again after that night, did we? We get far too wild on the stuff.” Lydia smirks.
The embarrassment I felt all those years ago, burns into my brain like it was only yesterday. “I didn’t go into that pub for months after exposing myself to half its regulars.” I admit.
“Why exactly did you get your 36Bs out again, Jessica?” Lydia grins up at me.
“I can’t rightly remember.” The cringe worthy moment flashes in my mind.
“Well I remember, very clearly. We were talking about boob jobs and you were saying how proud you were of your perfect, natural handfuls. Some guys said let’s see them, so you drunkenly obliged,” Lydia reveals. My face feels hot with crimson cheeks as I catch an equally crimson faced Simon looking at me in the mirror.
“It was many years ago, Lydia. I was much more brazen back then.” I try to play down my drunken past.
Lydia laughs. “I remember Shawn not being best pleased with your brazen ways either.”
A Famous Affair Page 29
