A Billboard With Your Ex-BFFs On It Should Be Enough To Tell You How Screwed You Are.
Tales Of Week 13 Of The Andie Chronicles And Her Breakup
Day 85: Tales Of Unexpected Calls And Friendship Clues
I saw Sophia’s name appear on my phone.
Flashing back and forth.
It’s amazing how a palm-sized screen can cause such panic for a few seconds. As the call overtakes the phone, your entire life pauses as you’re riddled with indecision.
Should I answer?
Should I not?
What do they want?
Why are they calling me?
It had been a long time since any of my closest friends had called me too. Outside of James checking on where I was, I couldn’t recall the last time I had seen her name appear.
I answered, but not without the mountain of hesitation overcoming me.
“Hey Soph,” I said, feeling as if the words didn’t feel genuine. Or like I had said them.
“Yeah, Andie, we need to talk. I heard about the weekend.”
She paused. As the silence engulfed the call, I wondered. What part was she talking about?
The part where I secretly spent the night shagging Alex? Or how James chastised me for not being there through his problems with his homophobic aunty?
I couldn’t pinpoint it, and her silence wasn’t helping me.
“Ok,” I responded. Sophia cleared her throat, seizing any opportunity I had to explain anything.
“A real estate agent called me. Yasmine. She told me someone else was looking at some space in the city I had been looking at, too.”
So much for a little client confidentiality, I thought.
Yet, of all the papers, I never saw Sophia’s name on any of them. Nor GG’s, coming to think of it. I knew they were both investors, but it was James with the papers.
Here I was assuming it was him hiding his dealings just from me. But with one mention of the situation, I knew I had only scratched the surface. And that petrified me.
“I see.” My voice shook.
This was the moment I should have started grovelling, begging for an apology. Explaining myself. Spouting some bullshit about not knowing why Alex insisted I go to this property with him.
I was ready with the lie, ready to defend myself against any and every objection she was going to throw at me.
“Andie, I know it was you looking at that space. And I know you need to see more. Go to the corner of Chapel Street and Toorak Road. That’s all I can say.”
Sophia swiftly hung up the phone.
What?
WHAT?
What the hell just happened?
What was with the cryptic clue? I felt like some CIA agent in a darkened corner of a car park just gave me a clue. Instead, it was one of my best friends.
Why was she telling me?
But more to the point, why was she half telling me? Was she my friend?
At thirty-five I wouldn’t have thought friendships would be so complicated.
I thought all I had to do was survive my break-up.
Day 86: Tales Of Sympathetic Expressions And Marriage Dates
“So why aren’t you married?”
There was this part of me who wanted to tell Alex that he couldn’t ask a woman my age why she wasn’t married or didn’t have kids, or wasn’t something she “should” be.
But this wasn’t some stranger asking me.
He knew the younger me who talked about the day I would get married and have kids and live in the big house like a modern-day Cinderella.
I said those things when I could walk up to a man, flash a little skin and they would fall into bed with me.
Now, the moment they realise I have the slightest hint of grey hair underneath my bleached tressels, they assume I’ll only drop my panties in exchange for a wedding ring.
At least that’s what I assume.
It’s one of many theories I have for why Douglas went running away with such haste. And surprise, too. It would make sense. It’s a reason that could let me sleep at night.
At this moment, though, I had a man not too dissimilar to my ex. If Alex thought the same thing, I might be onto something.
“How honest do you want me to be?”
Alex tilted his head with a knowing smile. “Come on sugar. Honest-honest.”
He leaned over the table and filled up my wine glass. I was enjoying his makeshift home restaurant, but the honesty part I wasn’t prepared for.
“I’ve never been looking for a husband. I don’t think marriage is something you achieve, a milestone in life to tick off. You either have someone you want to marry or you don’t.”
I could feel Alex’s eyes open wider. And as I picked up my wine glass and brought the sweet liquid to my lips, I said;
“I’ve never had someone who has wanted to marry me.”
“What about someone you’ve wanted to marry?”
I finished the content of the glass. “Well now, that’s a different story.”
There was no way I could bring myself to even think yet admit I could have seen myself marrying Douglas.
Admitting I thought once or twice I thought about being Mrs. Andie Gallo, no, I couldn’t do that.
We never got to that part.
We weren’t even in love, says the record books.
Marriage was a stretch, I keep telling myself.
Alex stared at me with a sympathetic expression.
Pity. Sadness.
“I liked being your fake husband.” I don’t know if that was any sort of consolation.
I didn’t think to ask why Alex wasn’t married either. Probably because he had the same answer as me.
Or, more than likely, because I couldn’t stand talking about what could have been any longer.
Day 87: Tales Of Billboard Discoveries And Supportive “Friends”
Breakfast.
Alex’s house.
Richmond.
He had this wonderful home I really didn’t want to leave. And after more sexual frustration releasing sex, I wanted this little holiday away from my relationship cataclysm to last forever.
Alas, he had to go to work and I had to go back to 1 Lovelock Drive.
“What are you doing this morning?” Alex asked, putting the last touches on his suit with a pair of silver cufflinks, the right shaped like a bull, the left shaped like a bear.
“I have to go to Chapel Street. Look at something for work.”
“Does it have anything to do with the office space?”
I nodded. It had everything to do with going real estate hunting with him. I didn’t bother telling Alex what Sophia told me the other day. I had dragged Alex too far into this professional dilemma. He didn’t need to feel responsible for whatever this next storm was. “
Can I help?”
“It’s a little out of your way. My friend Sophia, do you remember her from back in the day? Well, she told me to go look at something on the corner of Chapel Street and Toorak Road. And she knew about our tour through 120 Collins, too. I’m going to go see what’s there.”
“I’ll come with you.”
I shook my head. “You don’t need to do that.”
“I insist,” he replied. “Call me curious.”
I screwed my face up. He’s curious?
“I mean, come on, this is so weird. This isn’t how friendships work, nor how you do business at this level. Something isn’t right here. In fact, something stinks, for sure.”
It was oddly comforting to hear someone else agree with what was happening. It didn’t feel right to me either. I didn’t like speculating what it could be either, for fear of getting it wrong.
That’s how bad it stunk.
Yet, until Alex came along, I didn’t have anyone to corroborate that feeling. “Are you sure work won’t mind?”
“I’m having a meeting with a client. A very sexy client!”
Alex leaned in and kissed me.
I drove us to Chapel Street. The immovable morning traffic added unnecessary suspense to the journey. It didn’t help that Alex insisted on speculating the entire time, too.
We found a car park a few metres from the corner Sophia described. Walking to the intersection, I couldn’t decide what spot to stand in. Where was I looking?
At the storefronts?
At the people?
At the myriad of tram stops?
“Look up,” Alex said, with a solemn tone. I followed his lead, staring at a billboard that wrapped around a joint apartment building and retail space.
There, in bold letters, said,
“Coming soon: Highway”
And the models? James, GG and Sophia.
What. The. Fuck.
Day 88: Tales Of Gratitude And An Embarrassed Lover
When you work for yourself, you rarely need to get up at five in the morning.
You take the sleep in and work late if that’s what your business demands from you.
At least, that’s what James and I figured out pretty early on. It’s easier to stay awake when you’re already awake rather than force yourself into being an early morning person.
But when you’re trying to sneak out of a man’s place without him noticing, you become an early-morning person pretty damn quickly.
After discovering the billboard yesterday, Alex let me stay at his place. I didn’t want to go home and come face to face with any of my friends.
Especially not James.
I don’t know why I’m placing the captain’s bars on James, making him the ring leader in this crusade.
The mission? I have no idea.
Yet, considering there was a billboard promoting my business without me on it, I would say the mission was to cut me out.
I couldn’t even think straight to drive back home, even if I wanted to. Alex took us back from Chapel Street and didn’t leave my side until I became consolable again. At one point, I heard him phone his office and reschedule his day.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. And true to his word, he didn’t.
Yet, despite his generosity, I didn’t want him to stay. I loathed letting him see me like this, distraught, undignified, upset.
Jumping between raging anger and heartbreaking devastation, it felt like a break-up all over again. What I thought I was getting through seemed to start all over again.
I didn’t need to go through all this with an audience.
It was humiliating enough that my friends and business partners had successfully managed to one-up me out of the business I started at my dining room table.
Though leaving before the sun came up, before thanking Alex and saying goodbye, would make me look ungrateful, I couldn’t think about him.
Nor could I contemplate the right thing to do. My mind was blurred by the thousand thoughts of what to do next.
And how I would keep myself from running away when Melbourne and everyone I knew here was telling me I was no longer welcome.
Starting my car in the morning darkness I fled Richmond and went straight home. James wasn’t there. Nothing new, really.
I got into bed and held my phone in my hand. I opened up a new message to Alex and simply typed,
“Thank you.”
I hoped it would be enough. One day I would repay him. One day I could show him a better me.
Not today, though.
Day 89: Tales Of Lawyer Comparison And Friday Fighting
I’m thankful that it’s Friday.
More thankful than I care to admit.
Though it’s not like my problems vanish because it’s the weekend. I don’t subscribe to the common misconception about life. But knowing I could plausibly rest from the rollercoaster week without commentary or social judgement was some upside.
To get to the rest, you have to finish with your turmoil first.
A day in the office with James would be just the right amount of suffering, I figured. As soon as I sat at our dining room table, James filled me in on what was happening with his aunty and his old property.
“I have to go see some lawyers on Tuesday. In the city somewhere. Do you think they charge by the hour? Or is that a movie thing?”
I knew the answer from when GG went through her divorce.
Going to many consultations with her, I learned all about the process of dealing with a legal mind. To my surprise, James was asking me and not GG. Strange considering they were in co-hoots about so much.
“Yeah, they do. Don’t let them talk slow.”
We both laughed. Probably best to make light of this considering I didn’t want James to know I suspected, knew, what he was up to.
“Who are you going to see?”
It wasn’t like I knew any of the lawyers in town. Well, only two. GG’s divorce lawyer and Douglas’ main counsel. Though I only really knew the law firm and not the maim people he dealt with.
James pulled out his phone and start to fuss around on it. It looked like he was swiping in and out of apps. He accompanied his performance with grunting and frustrated sighs.
“I can’t find the name for the life of me.”
“No worries.”
I watched James put his phone down immediately and then pick up one of the letters from his aunt and hand it to me. I had seen it the other night, but I pretended to read it as I hadn’t. Knowing what it said, I asked James,
“Do you think there’s any chance of you winning this thing?”
“Barbie seems to think so. You’ll like this. She said I could do anything I set my mind to. What a peach.”
Did Barbie also mean you could screw over your friends too?
Go behind their back with a business they own and get away with it?
Part of me wanted to call Barbie and tell her everything that her baby boy was up to. But I didn’t have all the facts yet. The billboard? Sure it was big. There had to be more, though.
And I had to find out.
No, I would find out.
Day 90: Tales Of Bottles Of Dom And Surprise Appearances
I opened the wine fridge to pull out something special to take to over to Sophia. She didn’t know I was coming, but with liquid lubrication, she might forgive me for ambushing her Saturday.
Opening the weight wine fridge door, I stared at it in disappointment.
Like I didn’t know why it was empty.
It wasn’t like the fridge was full.
When I got it, I had only put a couple of bottles in there. It was all I could afford. But looking at it now, empty and useless, I didn’t see the point of keeping it switched on.
There was nothing in the house I could bring. I searched the pantry and thought about cutting flowers from the garden.
All I could find was a half-drunk bottle of red on the counter. When trying to butter up a person with their face on a billboard on Chapel Street, you can’t bring four-dollar Aldi wine.
It just doesn’t cut it.
There wasn’t anything I could do to match the gravitas of the situation, or to soften her to give me the information I needed. Realistically, though, no matter how much I bribe her, she might not tell me anyway.
Arriving at Sophia’s apartment building I held my breath as I pressed the buzzer.
A male voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Malcolm? It’s Andie.”
“Oh hey, come on in.”
The door released and I ascended the four stories in the lift. Walking up to her door, I kept rehearsing what I would say. I couldn’t get the words right in my mind, I held out little hope the words would make sense. Malcolm opened the door.
“Andie, so good to see you.”
The last time I saw him wasn’t too dissimilar to this moment.
Confrontational.
Awkward.
But I didn’t care this time.
Sophia had shown her hand, and I was taking it.
“You too. I hope I’m not interrupting.”
I heard Sophia call out from the balcony. “No babe, you’re not. Come out here.”
I found Sophia sitting at her little four-seater table with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. I observed the set-up and felt a pit in my stomach.
“Gees, I’m interrupting.”
Sophia shook her head. “Please sit down. Have a glass with me.” She pushed a flute in my direction. “I’ve only opened this bottle because of you. Fitting that I drink it with you.”
I hesitated. But Sophia picked up the glass, handed it to me and filled it. I noticed the label, Dom Perignon.
“What are you celebrating?”
“A bittersweet achievement. In a few weeks, Highway is going live, with a deal already in place to stock in David Jones.”
Dj’s? As in the biggest and most prestigious department store in Australia? What?!
Of all the questions I had, still, the biggest one was, why was she telling me this?
Day 91: Tales Of Covert Operations And Ex-Boyfriend Pondering
Walking through the beautiful shops that lined Camberwell, I came across the most exquisite paper shop.
The window display was filled with rolls of coloured wrapping paper made of thick embossed material. They suspended the rolls from the top of the window.
Alongside the paper, collections of notebooks and candles adorned the window in the same print.
Everything about the shop was exquisite and just what I needed. If you’re going to get fed single puzzle pieces, one at a time, about the complete decimation of the business you built, it’s best to do it in style.
I had to write everything down.
I couldn’t use the fogged-up shower screen anymore, nor the whiteboard in the office that James could see. And the notebook I used for work was also in the sight of the person I was hiding this so-called investigation from.
If I picked something that looked like a diary, that I could pass off as a pocketbook in my handbag, no one would be any the wiser.
Looking through the racks in the store, I found a dated diary, decorated in bold pink and purple illustrated hearts, that would do the job perfectly.
Having things ready to write down, I purchased a matching floral pen to go with it. As soon as I stepped out of the store and onto the street, I marked down everything Sophia “could tell me”.
Granted she didn’t tell me much.
Her sense of what was right to do in a friendship was at an all-time high. At least I had something big to go off.
The billboard.
The deal with David Jones.
The name is the same.
My name remains connected to the business. A potential business space at 120 Collins Street.
I had something.
It was undeniable now; my friends were screwing me over. They were undercutting my participation in the business I came up with. They were making moves without me.
And everything happening was behind my back.
Why? I had no idea.
The businesswoman in me didn’t care why, though. A logical justification wouldn’t make it any better. Yet, the friend in me was dying to know.
How could you hurt me like this?
How could you call me a friend but cut me out, too?
In this situation, I wondered what Douglas would do. Probably put on a sexy power suit and storm their offices and demand answers. Or fuck the answers and go straight for the jugular. I didn’t quite know how to do that.
Should I ask him?
Should I call my ex and tell him all about the people screwing me over my life, adding their names to him? Should he know how badly my life was crumbling down after he dumped me?
Probably not.
You’re reading a recap of The Andie Chronicles, the 2023 romance-fiction series from the 1 Lovelock Drive (1LD) universe.
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