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‘I can’t believe that guy is gay,’ Alex said afterwards as we lay on the bathroom floor, draped in The Hollywood’s fluffy towels. I wasn’t sure my legs were up to making it across the room anyway, and it seemed as if it would be unflattering to crawl. Not to mention the fact that having two men in my bed in one day was really just too skanky.

‘I know.’ I shuffled slightly closer against Alex’s chest. The closer I was, the safer I felt. ‘It’s mad, isn’t it?’

Even though Alex was trying really hard with his whole ‘you don’t need to explain yourself to me’ routine, I had really wanted to give him the whole story, or at least the whole James Jacobs story, as soon as was post-coitally appropriate.

‘I guess you never really know about this stuff.’ Alex idly stroked at strands of my hair, holding them up and let them fall gently back to my head. ‘People believe what they want to believe. It’s kinda depressing that he didn’t think he could just be who he is from the beginning.’

‘I’m just so sorry you got dragged into it all,’ I said quietly, utterly blissed out from the hair stroking. ‘I nearly died when they had that picture of you online.’

‘Yeah, how weird was that?’ His voice sounded deep and sandpapery in the confines of the tiny hotel bathroom. ‘I don’t know where they got that picture. Good to know internet gossips think I’m cute, though. The guys haven’t stopped laughing.’

‘Jealous,’ I said.

‘Totally,’ he agreed. ‘The sick thing is, record sales are up.’

‘Do I get commission?’ I asked, manoeuvring my towel to make sure any dodgy bits were covered. It was one thing to be naked in the throes of passion, it was quite another to be totally starkers under the harsh bathroom lighting once your boyfriend had already got some.

‘Can I work off my debt?’ he whispered into my ear. A shiver ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature of the floor tiles.

‘I thought you were hungry.’ I pushed his hair back out of my face as Alex positioned himself over me. ‘They won’t bring room service up if we’re at it on the bathroom floor.’

‘Don’t tell me you haven’t got a secret stash of snacks in this room.’ His breath was hot on my neck and I felt my back arch upwards towards him. ‘You’re never more than fifteen feet from a packet of M&Ms.’

‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ I said, hoping he wouldn’t find the giant bag of peanut butter M&Ms before I could hide them.

The day drifted away from me before I was really able to do anything with it aside from intermittently reaching out to make sure Alex was still there and drifting in and out of my first non-alcohol-induced sleep for days. Eventually, Alex and I managed to put on just enough clothes to make ourselves decent and we wandered out to the closest McDonald’s for sustenance – and to give housekeeping enough time to change the bed. I was just watching Alex tuck into his second Big Mac when my phone trilled to announce a text message. It was Jenny.

‘Hey, things ok with Alex? U didn’t tell him about Joe? Am with Tessa, let me no if u need me xoxo’

I looked up, watching Alex devour his burger as though someone was going to take it off him. I didn’t know whether to smile or cry. I knew that Joe could appear at any second and completely mess this up.

‘Haven’t said anything, ok at mo. Have fun, cu tomorrow? A x x x’

I pushed my chicken sandwich away, suddenly not quite so hungry as I was desperate to get back in the hotel room with a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door.

‘Not hungry?’ Alex asked, eyeing my leftovers.

I shook my head. ‘Full of M&Ms.’ I sipped my Diet Coke while Alex made short work of the McChicken Sandwich. ‘How’s your jet lag?’

‘Hmm,’ Alex replied, holding his hand up to hide a mouthful of fast food. ‘I don’t even know what time it is. It’s getting dark though.’ He nodded towards the street outside. The sun had almost completely set and all of Hollywood Boulevard’s tourists, costume characters and general crazies were lit up. I tried not to stare as Spider Man and Jack Sparrow wandered in off the street and ordered up a couple of Happy Meals. ‘Are you sure you don’t have anything you have to do today? Isn’t this interview thing going to be really difficult?’

‘Yes and no.’ I pulled my hair back into a tight ponytail and then let it go. ‘I’m assuming the magazine is going to rewrite whatever I do but, you know, I don’t want to turn in some rubbish. My plan is to get as much information as possible, pull it into the best shape I can and then at least there’s material for the editors to work with. I’ve got tonnes of background stuff from the last week, so tomorrow I need the “We Love Each Other” stuff to add to that. Which is what’s going to be difficult. I can’t imagine they’re actually going to be overly sharey even now, to be honest. Blake hates me.’

‘Cool, I guess I should be looking into flights home. You know what you and Jenny are doing yet?’ He started on the fries.

‘Nope,’ I said, fiddling with the bendy straw in my Coke. Couldn’t he just hurry up and finish already? ‘It’ll be some time on Sunday though. Cici is supposed to be booking them tomorrow. Shall I see if she can get you on the same flight?’

Alex nodded. ‘My grand romantic gesture wasn’t well planned.’

‘I don’t think they’re supposed to be.’ I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. Which was stupid because it slowed down his eating even more.

‘So what’s going on with Jenny?’ Alex finally flattened out the empty fries box. And started on his Coke. ‘Did she hook up with that waiter guy?’

I felt myself turn a little bit green. ‘Turns out she wasn’t ready to be hooking up with anyone.’ I moved the subject on from Joe as quickly as possible. ‘She’s just so burned out over Jeff, I really don’t know what it’s going to take to shake her out of this mood she’s in. I mean, it’s not like she’s been short of men throwing themselves at her and she’s still going out and everything.’ I willed Alex to neck his drink so we could get back to the safety of my room. ‘I don’t know, maybe the break will do her good. She’s been hanging around with one of her old friends who does some styling stuff. They’ve been sort of playing at that while I’ve been working. Jenny’s pretty good at it.’

‘Jenny good at telling people what to do?’ Alex shook his paper cup and took one last slurp. ‘I don’t believe it for a second.’

I didn’t sleep a wink Friday night and it had nothing (or at least not as much as you might think) to do with Alex being naked beside me. As relieved as I was to find the hotel room restored to its former pre-worst-night-of-my-life glory, I was still uneasy. How could I lie here with Alex and pretend everything was OK when I had cheated on him in this very bed? I almost put my ex’s face through the windscreen when I busted him cheating on me.

The next morning, I was up, showered and dressed before Alex had even flickered an eyelid. My new plan was simple: get the interview with James out of the way, get Alex out of the hotel, and get everyone out of LA. I was certain Jenny was right: it was better not to tell Alex anything and, had I been able to leave my regrettable/forgettable one-night stand behind me in another city, a very, very long way away, that might have been easier. Now he was here, at the scene of the crime, I just felt like an absolute skank.

I grabbed my lovely, trustworthy handbag and made for the door, leaving a note for Alex. I wasn’t due at James’s hotel for hours, but Jenny had left me the car keys and there was no way I could hang about in the room, driving myself mad. After awkwardly navigating the valet parking system, I prepared myself for the fabled LA traffic as best I could (putting on sunscreen, lipstick and sunglasses) and flicked on the convertible’s sat-nav. I’d never driven an automatic before – well, I hadn’t actually driven a car since I’d been in America – but it was just like riding a bike. Apparently. Unfortunately, even at six-thirty on a Saturday morning, LA’s roads were neither bike- nor international-driver-friendly. I got the hang of driving on the wrong side of the road fairly quickly, but turning right on red just wouldn’t sink in. Luckily, there were lots of straight roads for me to pootle along until I could steel myself to pull into an open Starbucks, grab a coffee and a muffin and set the sat-nav for Griffith Park.

The park was beautiful: so different to everything I’d seen of LA so far, wilder than Central Park and a million miles away from London’s carefully tended open spaces. Parking up by a huge open-air theatre, I picked up my coffee, plugged in my iPod and wandered out into the park, following the runners and dog walkers. After twenty minutes of drowning out my thoughts with the loudest music I could find, I found myself outside the Griffith Observatory. Sipping my cooled coffee, I sat down on the grass and stared down at the city as the sun came up slowly. Well, wasn’t I a long way from home?

LA looked very different from up here; for the first time I felt as though I was Away. New York was so tight and tall, a thin sliver of an island, breathing in and stretching up high, as if it was holding its hand up to the world for attention. New York made me walk fast, made me want to be as tall and glossy as its skyscrapers, twenty-four seven. For all its glamour and celebrity, up here in the hills, LA looked more like a city that had just breathed out, kicked off its heels and opened a window. The buildings were a little lower, a little sun-bleached and more spread apart, not pressed up against each other, racing up into the clouds. It was a city so sure of itself that it just didn’t need to fight for attention. And besides, it was so sunny and warm, why not relax a little?

But of course I’d spoken too soon. Inside my bag, my phone chirped into life. Who could be missing me at this time? The screen flashed over and over with Mum Home.

‘Hello?’

‘Angela?’

‘Mum?’

‘Hello, love! I was just talking about you. Are you with your movie star?’

‘Mum, why are you using your posh voice?’ I asked, instantly regretting answering the call.

‘I don’t know what you mean, dear.’ Mum went on in the same voice she had used for my teachers and the engineer who came round to install Sky+. ‘Anyway, Sheila’s been round, you remember Sheila from the library? Well, she says that your boyfriend used to go out with that girl from that film you like … you know, the one about that man out of Ghostbusters, when he goes to China and she’s ever so pretty, Angela.’

I survive my first drive in LA and this was how I rewarded myself? When did I become a masochist? ‘Mum, he’s not my boyfriend. Alex is my boyfriend. We have been through this.’

‘I know it’s all the rage going out with two people at once these days but, honestly Angela, it’ll end in tears,’ she rattled on. ‘Don’t think I don’t know. I was seeing another man when I met your father and yes, I admit there might have even been a bit of an overlap but—’

‘Mum!’ I shouted, attracting the attention of several labradors and a chihuahua. ‘There’s nothing going on with me and James at all. I’m just going out with Alex.’

‘Oh.’ She sounded ridiculously disappointed given that she had never met either man. ‘Well, that’s a shame. He seemed lovely.’

‘Well, I’m very sorry.’

‘Are you trying to tell me you’re not going to marry that actor or was there something else? I’m just about to do your dad a sandwich.’

I breathed in and out slowly, watching the sun spread across the city. See how different it could be? If I hadn’t salvaged my job at The Look, I would most likely be having a sandwich with Dad as well.

‘I just wanted to give you a ring,’ I said, trying to be patient. ‘‘Let you know I was all right. That I wasn’t shacked up with James Jacobs.’

‘Don’t feel bad, that blonde girl is ever so pretty. Not that you’re not, Angela love, but you know. So, how long are you in Los Angeles for? Have you booked your flights home?’

I tried not to be offended that my mother didn’t think I was as pretty as Scarlett Johansson. I mean, surely your mum was the only person in the world that might think that about you? Unless you were Scarlett Johansson’s mum and then I suppose you’d have to think her sister was fairly pretty too. If she has a sister.

‘Do you have to ask me that every time I call you?’ I asked, draining my freezing cold coffee. Ick. ‘I don’t know, Mum. I suppose I might come home for Christmas this year if you’re not on a cruise again.’

‘I didn’t mean here,’ she tutted, as if I was the stupid one. Which, given the last week of my life, was probably fair. ‘I meant when are you going back to New York?’

‘Oh.’ I smiled at my flip-flops. Home. ‘Sunday.’

‘Don’t worry, Angela,’ Mum sighed dramatically. ‘We’ve quite got used to the idea that you’ve abandoned us. You’ve got your new life now with your boyfriends and your friends. How is Jenny? Now she’s a beautiful girl.’

‘She’s fine.’ I don’t know what I was expecting, really. ‘Mum, can I ask you something?’

‘What a silly question, of course you can.’

‘Have you ever kept a secret from Dad?’

She was silent for a moment.

‘A secret as in, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, or a secret as in, he still thinks I make my own Yorkshire puddings and don’t buy in Aunt Bessie’s?’

‘The first one.’ I was disgusted. Fancy buying in frozen Yorkshire puddings.

‘Then yes, of course I have,’ she said. ‘All relationships have their little secrets.’

‘Really?’ I had to admit to being a little bit curious about my mother’s secrets. As long as they weren’t dirty. Ew. ‘Like what?’

‘Well, obviously there’re the little white lies, like the Yorkshire puddings. And the roast potatoes. And once I used that powdered mashed potato for Sunday dinner because I’d been on the Blue Nun with your Auntie Les and he was none the wiser,’ she said. ‘But, well, there have been a few things that I’m fairly sure he’d rather not know about. You have to use your judgement, Angela – it’s part of making a relationship work.’

‘But don’t you think he deserves to know?’ I asked. ‘Shouldn’t you be honest about everything?’

‘Would you rather know?’ She was still speaking slowly, as if she was choosing every single word very carefully. Which was extremely weird for my mother. ‘Imagine if that fella of yours had – I don’t know – got a bit tipsy and kissed the girl from the bakery under the mistletoe at a Christmas party and maybe she’d thought it was a proper kiss and he hadn’t but maybe she’d kissed him on the lips instead of the cheek and—’

‘Mum, did you kiss Mr Owens from the bakery?’ I shouted down the phone.

‘And that reaction is why your dad doesn’t know about it,’ Mum said primly. ‘And so, whatever you’ve done, I suggest you don’t go telling that boyfriend of yours unless you want to peel him off the ceiling. Calm down, Angela.’

She was right. I hated when that happened.

‘I’m going to go, Mum. I’ve got some work to do before I go back to New York. We fly tomorrow; yes, I’ll call when we’ve landed,’ I promised, knowing full well I wouldn’t and that she’d have forgotten I’d even said that I would before she got back to Dad’s sandwich.

‘All right love.’ At least she was using her own voice again. ‘And just think about what I said. And don’t ever tell your dad about the Yorkshire puddings. I think he’d be more likely to forgive a kiss than using frozen Yorkshires.’

Hoovering down my muffin, I took one long last look at LA as the morning sunshine tickled it awake, stroking the rooftops of the city from Los Feliz below me, shining down on Hollywood, skipping over Beverly Hills and bouncing off the waves and the beaches of Venice and Santa Monica. I heaved myself up, dusted off my jeans and wandered off back to the car with something of a smile starting on my face. Surely if Mum could keep her frozen Yorkshires to herself, then there was no reason why I couldn’t just forget the Joe incident ever happened.

Forty hairy minutes later, I was pulling in at a Coffee Bean to pick up more coffees and muffins as a goodwill gesture for James and Blake and to break up the terrifying drive through LA. Once I’d prised my fingers off the steering wheel, I spotted my phone flashing in the bottom of my bag. Unlike everyone else on the roads of LA, I couldn’t drive and talk at the same time. I could barely even drive and think. There were two texts. One from James.

‘Couldn’t remember what we were doing so we’re coming to you. See you @ pool bar 9?’

Shit. What time was it?

8.40.

Shit.

And another from Alex.

‘Can’t believe you snuck out, I feel so used. Will hang out here till you’re back, got my swimsuit somewhere …’

Shit shit shit.

I threw my bag and phone into the back seat and turned on the engine. Never again would I take issue with Blake’s anal-retentive management of James’s schedule. And never again would I make arrangements with the monkey instead of the organ-grinder. I took a quick moment to think about how inappropriate that thought was and then rolled out into traffic.

I couldn’t get to the roof of the hotel soon enough. Jabbing the roof terrace button in the lift, I felt my newly acquired sense of calm slip away, picturing James confronting Joe. Alex confronting James. Blake confronting Alex. Joe telling Alex everything.

Tearing out of the lift as fast as my flip-flops would carry me, I could hardly bear to look. There they were, James, Blake and Alex, sitting at one of the tables, drinking coffee and, oh my God, laughing.

‘Hey!’ Alex stood up and leaned in for a quick kiss. I stared from one to the other, resting on Blake, who stared back with the smile of an angel. An angel that knew something I didn’t. ‘So I met James and Blake.’

‘So I see,’ I said, sitting down cautiously and accepting the coffee that James poured for me. On closer inspection of the bar, there was no sign of Joe. Phew. ‘And how’s that working out for you?’

‘Uh, I kicked his ass for upsetting you with the photo stuff, then he kicked my ass for being a dick about the photos, and then he said he really liked my band and now we’re having coffee.’ Alex squinted against the sunshine. ‘I think that’s about where you came in.’

‘Really? And now you’re best mates?’ I couldn’t stop staring at Blake. He looked so horribly pleased with himself. And uh, hello? Shouldn’t Alex still be angry on my behalf?

‘I believe you mean BFFs,’ James said. ‘We are in Hollywood, darling.’

‘And honestly, I’m not sure I could win in an actual fight,’ Alex whispered theatrically. ‘But I’ll take him on if you want?’

‘Oh, she’d love that,’ Blake said. ‘Get the two of you stripped to the waist and bare-knuckle boxing.’

‘Right. Well, this is lovely. Given that we were supposed to meet at your hotel,’ I glugged down the coffee, worrying about my dangerously high levels of caffeination. Worrying about what else Blake might decide to throw into the conversation. ‘But I suppose at least you’ve all met and I’d rather there wasn’t any violence.’

‘Yeah, lucky escape,’ Blake piped up. ‘There is usually violence involved when we meet your friends, huh, Angela?’

‘Did Jenny hit him?’ Alex asked.

‘No,’ I said quickly, cutting Blake off. Ooh, I knew he was still going to give me grief. ‘Long story which we don’t have time for right now. I don’t know if you remember but we have an interview to do and I don’t think it’s a very good idea to discuss such a sensitive subject out here where everyone can hear, do you?’

‘Let’s go back to the Chateau then.’ James sank his espresso. ‘Car’s downstairs.’

‘There isn’t time,’ I sighed. Stupid boys not doing what they’re told. ‘We’re going to have to do it in my room. Sorry Alex, are you OK up here for a while? We’ll just be a couple of hours.’

‘Sure,’ he nodded. ‘I was joking about my swimsuit, though. But there’s a pretty good record store not far from here; maybe I’ll go check it out.’

‘OK.’ As far as I was concerned, getting Alex out of the hotel was a great idea. Joe was nowhere to be seen right then, but still. ‘I’ll call you when we’re all done.’

‘Why don’t we all go for dinner tonight?’ James suggested. ‘It’s the least I can do, really. Let me take us all somewhere really nice.’

‘Sounds great,’ Alex agreed. ‘We don’t have plans, do we?’

‘What plans could you have?’ Blake asked, beaming at me again.

‘None.’ I pursed my lips. He was loving this. ‘Dinner sounds lovely.’

‘And you’ll bring Jenny, right?’ Blake put his arm around my shoulders as we headed back to the lift.

‘If she’s free.’ I didn’t want to seem too tense. It wouldn’t do any good to have Alex be suspicious of Blake and I didn’t want to piss James off before I got the interview logged.

‘And you know who else you should bring?’ Blake squeezed me in a half-hug. ‘That Joe guy. You know, prove there’s no hard feelings.’

‘Oh, Blake, really?’ James pulled a pained expression and slumped against the wall of the lift.

‘Do you want him selling a story on the back of the interview next week?’ Blake asked. James shook his head. ‘Then we should invite him. Angela?’

I felt like a hobbit in the middle of three six-footers, packed into such a tiny space, all staring at me. ‘Mmm-hmm.’

‘Great, we’ll make a res for six then.’ Blake smiled as the lift pinged at our floor. ‘Maybe Dolce?’

‘Whatever,’ I said, shepherding them out of the lift and turning back to Alex, who yawned noisily, oblivious to Blake’s meddling. Not that he could even know how much trouble he was causing. ‘I’ll see you later?’

‘Later,’ he replied in the deep, dark voice that made my stomach flip. Another quick kiss and then he was gone.

‘All right,’ James said, barely suppressing a big fat grin. ‘So I see what you see in him.’

‘Oh shut up,’ I said, marching off towards my room. ‘We’re so not doing boy talk.’

‘Then what’s the point in being out?’ James moaned, trailing along behind.

Four hours later, I stared at my final draft of the James Jacobs Coming Out interview. There were probably a few too many ‘I was so confused’ and ‘I went through some dark times’ quotes, but peppered liberally with James’s sense of humour and, as much as it pained me, his genuine love for Blake. Plus Blake’s carefully crafted, ‘I never thought of myself as gay, I just fell in love with a man; I think anyone can fall in love with anyone’ line. I had to admit, he was good at his job. Even when reading his coming out interview, thanks to Blake, James Jacobs’s legions of female fans would be able to cling to the hope that they could turn him back.

I attached it to an email and sent it through to Mary, crossing everything. Once it was gone from my sent box, I picked up the phone and dialled Cici.

‘Mary Stein’s office,’ she answered tightly.

‘Hi, Cici. It’s Angela.’

‘Oh, the girl who turned James Jacobs gay,’ she replied flatly. ‘I just want to say thank you so much for fucking your job up so royally that I have to work on Saturday.’

‘Oh, sorry.’ I didn’t really know what else to say. Apart from “HA”, which wouldn’t be very nice. ‘Erm, I just called to confirm my flights for tomorrow.’

‘Three-thirty out of LAX. And Mary wants you in the office at nine on Monday morning. And she said she’d call you once she’d looked at your interview. Which we only just got.’

‘It wasn’t late,’ I protested. ‘Mary said to get it to her for four o’clock your time.’

‘And we’ve all loved sitting in the office all day waiting for it,’ Cici replied. ‘I can’t believe you turned him gay.’

‘You know, he was actually gay before I got here.’

‘Sure he was.’

‘You do know there’s no Father Christmas, don’t you?’

‘Whatever, I’m emailing you the flight details now.’

‘Same deal with the tooth fairy.’

‘Bye girl who turned James Jacobs gay. Try not to bump into Jake Gyllenhaal on your way home.’

Hanging up, I re-read the article once more. It was sweet. I was happy. Flipping down my laptop, I moved over to the wardrobe and pulled out my travel bag. Packing would mean leaving. Leaving would mean never seeing Joe again. Never seeing Joe again would mean Alex could never find out what had happened. And that made me even happier.

Just dinner to get through, but what was I going to wear? Certainly not the jeans I’d filthied in the park, I noticed as I walked by the mirror. Seriously, was no one going to tell me I’d been walking around with dirt all up the backs of my legs all day? I pulled out the green Robert Rodriguez dress I’d worn to meet James. And put it away. No matter how beautiful it was, I didn’t really need to prompt James to tell hilarious stories about me throwing up outside his cottage. Hmm, probably better not wear the yellow Phillip Lim either. One by one, I packed up my new dresses, trying not to think about my credit card bill, until I was left with nothing but a couple of T-shirts and Jenny’s bikini. Not ideal for a sit-down dinner.

Without a better idea, I picked up the phone and called Jenny.

‘Hey honey, everything OK?’ She answered on the first ring for the first time in for ever.

‘Almost,’ I said, throwing unworn underwear in my bag. ‘James and Blake want to take us for dinner tonight. Will you come?’

‘Oh Angie, I don’t know,’ she crackled down the line. ‘Is that a good idea?’

‘Probably not,’ I admitted. ‘But James wants to apologize or something by buying us dinner. And Alex sort of accepted for me and I sort of accepted for you.’

‘So you’re actually calling to tell me I’m coming to dinner?’

‘Yes. But you know, it might be fun?’ I tried. ‘I’m sure we’ll end up somewhere nice and it’ll be good to have a proper night out before we leave LA. One where no one ends up on the front page of Perez Hilton.’

‘Hmm, yeah,’ she said vaguely. ‘It’s just … I was kinda hoping we could do dinner tonight, just me and you. I really need to talk to you.’

‘I know, I feel like I haven’t seen you properly in ages.’ I sniffed my black Kerrigan dress. Nope, couldn’t get another wear out of that. ‘Why don’t we have a goodbye LA drink before dinner. I’m sure Alex won’t miss us for an hour. I don’t suppose you have anything I could borrow to wear, do you, stylist extraordinaire?’

‘I’ll bring you something.’ I could hear a smile in her voice but she still didn’t sound too chipper. ‘What time’s dinner?’

‘Uh, eight?’ I looked at the clock. It was only just after one. ‘Jenny, are you OK?’

‘Let’s just talk later, OK?’ The line was breaking up. ‘I’ll come by your room at six? We’ll get you all hot and then grab that drink.’

‘And you promise not to beat James to death?’

‘I do.’

‘And Alex?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Jenny.’

‘OK, I’ll behave,’ she relented. ‘I just wish we could just do dinner on our own.’

‘You can bring Daphne if she’s about?’ I bargained, even if the thought of adding Daphne to the mix didn’t exactly fill me with joy. I hadn’t seen her since she vanished with a stranger on our big night out at Bar Marmont, and I didn’t feel as though she had been missing me.

‘Yeah, I don’t think so,’ Jenny let me off. ‘Let’s just get that drink.’

‘Well, if you change your mind, Blake is going for a “more the merrier” vibe.’ I took off my flip-flops and dropped them in the travel bag. ‘He wants me to invite Joe.’

‘Oh shit, what did you say?’ she asked. ‘Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that ass-hat. I can beat him to death, right?’

‘I’m sort of relying on not seeing him between now and tomorrow.’ I wandered over to the bed and considered a nap. ‘But if we ever come back to LA, you have my full permission to kick him hard in his face. More than once.’

‘Awesome,’ Jenny cackled. ‘See you at six.’

As Jenny rang off, I heard the door click open.

‘Hey, you done in there or should I go away?’ Alex called through the door.

I smiled. ‘I’m done, you can come in.’

He opened the door fully and held up a plastic bag. ‘Good, I’m all shopped out.’

‘That’s pathetic.’ I took the bag from him and flipped through the CDs. I hadn’t heard of any of the bands but I was sure they were all very cool. ‘You call one carrier bag shopped out. Jenny would laugh in your face.’

‘Jenny laughs in my face all the time.’ He took the CDs from me and placed them on the bedside table. ‘What are the plans for this afternoon, Scoop?’

‘Hmm, I think I have a very important nap to take,’ I said, falling back onto the bed and taking his hands in mine. His pale New York skin had turned pink in the sun. Too cute. ‘You?’

‘I could get behind a nap.’ Alex climbed over me, leaving one leg thrown over mine. ‘But I’m not that tired.’

‘I don’t know what to tell you,’ I said, relaxing back against him. It wasn’t just his face that had caught the sun; he was warm all over. ‘I’m knackered.’

‘You’d better let me do all the work, huh?’ I felt his lips on the back of my neck and closed my eyes. We did have a few hours to kill and it would be a terrible waste of a hotel room if we didn’t, wouldn’t it? As Alex’s hands slid around my waist, I could only think that we should fall out all the time.