No. I realize now that she was playing a game—a game she’s much better at than I am.
I sigh as I take the stairs up to the flat, and I’ve already braced myself for what Kat and Yasmine will say when I open the door.
Kat sits up on the sofa in surprise when I stroll in. “You’re home early! Is everything all right?”
The answer is a long one, and I don’t bother starting to reply until after they’ve helped me out of my dress and I’ve had a nice long shower. I don my comfiest pajamas and walk back out into the living room with damp hair and a bare face. I feel loads better already.
“Spill,” Yasmine insists, and I do. I tell them every detail, from the supply closet onward, and they listen with wide eyes until the very end.
“So what are you going to do? Even though I think Logan was being honest, it doesn’t change the fact that things have gotten bloody complicated. Are you going to walk away and try to find a less difficult relationship? Maybe with a normal bloke?”
I shake my head and stand up to grab a snack. I was meant to eat supper at the gala, and well…that didn’t happen, so I’m bloody starving.
“Let’s not go down that road right now. I don’t have the head space for it, to be honest.”
“All right, fine. Let’s just forget it all for tonight, shall we?” Kat says, patting the cushion beside her after I grab a bag of popcorn. “And if you want, you can come round to a cleaning job with me in the morning.”
She’s offering because I complained about the cab fare home.
“Thanks, I’ll definitely join you. Can’t believe I spent all that money on that silly dress, even if it was from a resale shop. Maybe I can get them to buy it back.”
Later, after we’re nearly done with the movie, Logan rings my mobile.
I consider answering it, and then I think better of it. It’s late and I still haven’t quite worked out what I’ll say to him when we speak next.
He doesn’t phone again or text, and I go to bed with a pit in my stomach. Nothing feels quite right, and I think maybe I’ve really gone and mucked everything up.
The whole point of me not walking the red carpet with Logan was so we could keep our relationship private and under the media’s radar, but the moment he kissed me in Gotham Hall, our illusion of privacy was shattered.
I’ve officially been thrust into the limelight whether I like it or not, and I find that out the hard way: by waking up the next morning to a million texts on my mobile from people shouting at me in all caps.
YOU ARE ALL OVER TWITTER!
GIRL! You’re famous!! WTH???
Hi there! It’s Amy Nichols! I’m a friend of Kat’s. We did that summer holiday together years back? Anyway, I was wondering if you’d fancy coming on my podcast so we could chat about your relationship with Logan Matthews?
“Kat! Wake up,” I say, reaching for my pillow and tossing it across the room, at her head.
“What have you gone and done that for? I was having a lovely dream with a sexy bloke. He had this nice French accent…oof, it was good. Maybe I can close my eyes and get back to it—”
“KAT! Wake up. Really! This is huge. I’m all over the internet!”
“What d’ya mean?”
I type Logan’s name into Twitter, and there are loads of photos of our kiss with all sorts of captions.
Mystery lady locks lips with New York’s most eligible bachelor.
Logan’s new girl revealed: Candace Williams, Manhattan preschool teacher.
After arriving to the Feeding America Gala last night with model Melody James on his arm, Logan seemed quite cozy with British teacher, Candace Williams.
Worse, there are also photos of the morning from a while back when I shouted at the paps in front of his flat! I look like a raving lunatic going at them with my finger wagging and my mean mug frowning at them in condemnation. I groan. Then my mobile rings and I sort of scream and scramble to answer it once I see it’s only Mum.
“Candace! Finally, we’ve got you!” She turns away from the receiver to address my dad. “Honey, turn it down! I’ve finally managed to get Candace on and I can’t even hear her over your program!”
“Blimey! All right! I’ve done it then! I’ve turned it down.”
“Not down enough, Herald! It’s still ear-splitting. I think they can hear our telly all the way up on Mars!”
I try to ease the tension headache forming near my right eye. “Mum. Hey. Good morning.”
It’s like she’s only now realized I’m still on the phone. “Oh hi, dear. Did you manage to get some nice rest last night?”
“Oh, so-so.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. I’m only phoning because…well…” Then she laughs. “Drat. I’ve gone and forgotten already!”
“The program!” my dad calls out.
“That’s right! Dad swears he saw you on the telly this morning! It was on the news hour when they go over a bit of celebrity gossip. I don’t pay all that much attention to it, though I do love when they show the royals. Who can resist that little Princess Charlotte?”
“Mum.”
“Right, anyway. They said you were dating someone! Who did they say she was seen with, Herald?”
“Some bloke called Logan!” Dad shouts back.
“Yes! Logan! Lovely name. He’s a footballer from America. Very handsome. Anyway, that wasn’t you, was it? Dad swears, but I think he just didn’t have his glasses on and he saw a blonde girl who sort of looked like you.”
I look over to Kat for some sort of guidance, but she only shrugs as if to say I’m on my own.
“I well…I’m not sure what story you’re referring to…”
“Well, I think you’d know if you were dating someone as famous as him, honey!” My mum gets a real laugh out of this like I’m a total nutter.
“It’s, well…um, okay, yes. We have been seeing each other, but it’s new—”
Then she screams and drops the phone.
“Mum?”
There’s only static from her end of the line now.
“I think she’s gone and broken it.”
Kat sits up. “That’s probably for the best anyway, don’t you think?”
“Right. Suppose so. I wasn’t sure what I was going to tell them anyway.”
“Of course. You still haven’t made up your mind about what you’re going to do, have you? Oh well, no time to dwell on it now. My alarm was due to go off any minute anyway. We haven’t got long to get over to that job if you still want to come with. We can grab some coffee on the way if you want?”
$8 latte from the corner café? No can do.
“I’ll make us some coffee here.”
“Oh fine. Have it your way, though you never make it quite like they do at the trendy shops. After we’re done at the job, we’ll go for tea or something.” She whips her blankets off and stands up to stretch. “I flat-out refuse to work on a Sunday morning and not have at least something to look forward to after I’m done.”