Head To The Paris End Of Melbourne For Designer Shopping And Men In Suits Looking For One Thing
Head To The Paris End Of Melbourne For Designer Shopping And Men In Suits Looking For One Thing
Tales Of Week 12 Of The Andie Chronicles And Her Breakup
Day 78: Tales Of Numb Shopping Trips And BFF Stalking
“Excuse me? Miss? Excuse me? Can I get through?”
What an idiot I must have looked, standing in the middle of the pasta sauce aisle at Coles, staring at jars like I was on something psychedelic.
Once I realised a very kind yet aging woman was trying to get past me, I wondered how long she had patiently waited for me to move.
Or make a decision.
Or both.
Had she not said anything, she would have waited a long time. I couldn’t stop staring despite having seen these jars hundreds of times before.
I grabbed two jars of pasta sauce and put them in my basket. The sound of the glass jars against the cheap red wine bottles echoed in the near-empty supermarket.
Only lost, lonely and aimless people spend their late nights doing their food shopping. Or powerful, successful, put-together people who use every minute of the day to their advantage.
I wasn’t sure which one I was. Thankfully, in this supermarket, no one else did either.
My phone began to ring.
It was James.
“Babe, where are you?”
I had become proficient at lying the last few days. When he asked me where I was, I bit my tongue and refused to tell him. If he wasn’t telling me things I should know about my own life, he didn’t have the right to know where I was.
“Food shopping.” Good answer, I thought. I could be in Sydney, for as far as he knew.
He didn’t respond for a moment. “Cool. Are you coming straight home?”
“I am. Is everything ok?”
Just tell me what is going on James, I begged, internally. Quit trying to figure out my answers before telling me why you’re asking whatever the hell you’re asking me.
“Everything is fine. I’m home, about to put some food on. I’ll see you soon?”
“Yup.”
I hung up.
There was nothing about that conversation anyone could object to. He was asking me where I was, like a good friend, like a good roommate.
And yet I found myself wanting to scream, shout, chastise him for being rude. For being a jerk. For being a lousy friend. Everything he was saying and doing was sending my friendship alarm bells ringing.
The more these stupid, meaningless interactions stacked up, the more I thought about everything I “didn’t know”. Everything he was hiding. Everything that had changed.
I didn’t want to go home.
By the time I paid for my groceries and loaded them into my car, I contemplated opening one of the cheap bottles of wine and drinking it all.
But I couldn’t afford to be a bottle down after a phone call. Best to save the swill for when I really needed it.
I drove to 1 Lovelock Drive. Putting my key in the front door, I realised it didn’t feel like home, anymore.
Day 79: Tales Of Urban Detectives And Resurfacing Past Flings
The towering urban edifice in front of 120 Collins St appeared larger than the last time I laid eyes on it.
It wasn’t as if there were additional levels. It wasn’t like it was actually bigger.
But now I knew my business partner and best friend was contemplating this space for our business, the grandeur and importance of this place was undeniably overwhelming.
How was our humble, infant business big enough to move into the city already?
Talk about imposter syndrome. Not to mention friendship deception.
Everything was wrong, and the longer I stared at the building, the more this feeling cemented itself.
I looked up and attempted to count the floors. I couldn’t remember what number the floor James had earmarked, but I knew it was high.
Looking down at the street, I watched as parades of men and women in tailored suits sashayed up and down the cement catwalk. The grandeur of the Paris end of the Melbourne CBD didn’t seem to affect their stride. If they felt intimidated by the enormity of their place in this city, you wouldn’t know it.
As the crowds moved past me, I felt a presence that wouldn’t shift. A man, towering over me, standing by my side. I looked at him, and he was staring up at the building I once had my gaze fixed on.
“Yeah, that’s a building, Andie. No doubt about it.”
“Alex Martens, what are you doing here?”
I quickly wrapped my arms around the torso of my old friend. His aftershave hadn’t changed. His muscular frame felt similar under the touch, only a little softer. It had been fifteen years, after all.
We were all a little softer in places, and far wiser too.
He looked down at me and reciprocated my hold. “I’m all the better for seeing you, Andie. You look amazing. You still have it, sugar.”
He was dressed in what could only be a Hugo Boss suit. Quite a change from the striped sweatpants he used to wear to uni on the daily.
“Do you work here?”
I pointed at 120 Collins and he nodded.
“Stockbroker. Just came back from a client lunch.” He patted the button of his vest, only just visible between the gap in his suit jacket.
“What are you doing here? I thought you worked from home or something.”
“Oh, so you’ve been stalking my Instagram, have you?” Alex laughed, throwing his blonde tendrils behind his ears. “I’ve been keeping tabs, you could say that.”
I put my hand on his arm. “Well, there’s more to it than that. Do you have time?”
Day 80: Tales Of Reseting Friendships And Date Night Outfits
There were days when I hated going to the gym.
I couldn’t tell you why I was going there except for the fact I know it’s something I should do.
The should economy of life is one that can really screw you up. You should be a good person.
You should be honest.
You should do the right thing.
Buy into too many shoulds in your life and you will send yourself crazy.
But considering I had a lunch date with an old friend, and old flame, tomorrow, I felt the extra spring in my step this morning.
A reason to feel motivated, if you will. Not that I only needed to exercise when a man was in my life.
Yet, with my romantic and plutonic relationships kicking my ass every day, it was a welcomed change to my current predicament.
Arriving back at 1 Lovelock Drive, I hoped James would be home. At our desk. Working. A return to routine.
But as I put my key in the door, I felt the double click of the deadlock, something we did every time we left the house.
I was holding out hope up until then. Perhaps it was the way the day had started; it felt like a normal day in my life. Yet, as soon as I came home, all the warm and fuzzy feelings of the status quo returning vanished.
False hope I know. Our life didn’t break overnight. And the fact I had a date of sorts with an old friend wasn’t going to restore it.
After showering, I found myself in my closet, combing through clothes to find the perfect combination. Something that looked chic yet effortless. Like I belonged in the city, but not one of the corporates in their tailored uniforms.
An hour later and I settled on a pinstriped blazer dress, opaque stockings and my vintage YSL boots I liberated from a garage sale.
With everything together, I didn’t quite look like myself.
I was a version of me, one that had her life together. And who had men fawning all over her.
One could hope, right?
Well, I did have one man who wanted to spend time with me. And asking me to lunch. That was something.
If my friends were actually involved in my life right now, I would have told them about running into Alex. I’m sure Sophia remembers him from our university days. I’m pretty sure she was there the night Alex took me into the stalls at Revellers and tried to have his way with me.
Ahh, good times.
Day 81: Tales Of Coda Dates And Returned Snubs
I picked up my handbag, fixed my hair and waltzed to the front door.
“Where are you going?” James asked.
He had some audacity wondering why I was exiting the workday so early. Those who don’t show up at all shouldn’t judge others.
“I have a meeting in the city.” It was half true. “Whatever you don’t get done today, leave it for me. I will get to it tomorrow.”
“What about our supplier meeting?”
I had forgotten we had our monthly check-in with the team producing our samples. Though considering everything I knew about the business, I’m sure this supplier was a ruse.
“Re-schedule it. This is far more important.”
I walked out and headed for the train station, the surge of adrenaline undeniable. Demanding anything of James right now felt like I was taking back some control. An insignificant amount compared to what he had taken. It was something though.
Alex had booked a table at Coda. Before I arrived, he had ordered a tasting menu for us, as well as a bottle of sparkling wine to match.
“I didn’t think you’re allowed to drink during the day,” I observed before kissing him on the cheek.
“I’m a stockbroker, not a doctor. I don’t have to stay sober for any reason.”
I wondered about making trades; surely you needed your wits about you. So you don’t put an extra zero on it by mistake. But this was the man who only handed in enough of an assignment to get the grades to pass.
He knew the lines, the ones to cross and the ones to push.
We ate and laughed and talked about the good old days.
And like all good catch-ups, we gave each other a paraphrased version of our lives since we last saw each other. He told me all about his last girlfriend. They dated for five years. They broke up after she got a job in Sydney and he didn’t want to move.
I told him about my ex, omitting the name until I described his profession, penthouse and inarguable arrogance.
“Wait a minute, are you telling me your ex is Douglas Gallo?”
“Yes, that’s him. I take it that you know him. Everyone in a suit knows him.” Alex cleared his throat.
“Well, no I don’t know him personally. But he’s a client of one of the other brokers in my office. And he’s always in 120 Collins, sniffing around the building.”
“Sniffing around?”
“Yeah. Like looking for real estate. The majority of his offices are across the road at 101 Collins. Taking over 120 would be a natural progression for him.”
It all made sense to me. It didn’t explain why James would be sniffing around those offices, though. “Can anyone inspect these offices?”
“They sure can. Did you want to take a look?”
Day 82: Tales Of Fake Marriages And Business Suspicions
The sound of the lift bell chiming was deafening.
Alex seemed unaffected by the volume, probably because he had ridden these lifts every day. For many years, too.
And he wasn’t on edge like I was.
He was comfortable schmoozing people, talking to strangers and making them feel like he had known them forever. He was a stark contrast to me. Stiff, out of place, constantly looking over my shoulder in case someone I knew saw me there.
“This is one of three available spaces in the building. The interest in this particular level has been overwhelming.”
Her name was Yasmine, and she walked ahead to point out the floor-to-ceiling windows and marble kitchen in the centre of the space.
“The refurbishment is highly desired.”
It looked the same as the brochures and etchings James had in his briefcase. At lunch yesterday, I showed Alex.
He said these weren’t casual mock-ups, they were full architectural plans.
You don’t have these drawn up unless it were a done deal.
“And what about additional refurbishments to the space? Can we achieve that?” Alex winked at me as he asked the question.
“Yes, absolutely. Though we do have preliminary plans already in place with our in-house stylist.”
We kept walking through. I couldn’t deny how beautiful the office was. The view over the city was enough to make you fall in love with becoming a city dweller.
And imaging our logo sprawled across the wall sent excitement vibrating through my body. I could understand why James had the details of this place in his possession.
If only he had shared it with me, I thought.
“Now, is this your business?”
Yasmine looked us up and down. We hadn’t told her anything about us, except our interest in the property. I felt my lip tuck under my teeth. Alex stepped in and held my hand.
“Yes, my wife and I are looking to expand our operations. What do you think, sugar?”
I couldn’t contain the laughter.
Being married to Alex? I didn’t even know the name’s middle name.
Considering everything that had happened lately, it was a laughable prospect. Yet it was, for a moment, fun to imagine. To pretend to be married in front of a complete nobody. Living a life that seemed impossible as a reality right now.
That much I could do.
“I love it. Can we see the contracts?”
Alex pulled me into him and whispered into my ear. “Douglas didn’t know what he was doing when he let you go.”
Fuck.
Day 83: Tales Of Sneaking Home And Impending Disaster
Approaching the front door of 1 Lovelock Drive, I didn’t once feel nervous about putting the key in the door.
Or even hesitate to walk in without making a sound or disturbing anyone.
That was then.
Now with a roommate, one proving challenging to have a relationship with, I was walking on eggshells. My life was becoming a perpetual secret, a closely guarded concept one no one was privy to be part of.
And if James caught me arriving home, dressed in the clothes from the day before, there would be questions I didn’t want to answer.
I didn’t want to tell him I had spent the night with Alex. I didn’t want to tell him I had amazing, unforgettable, body-shattering sex that lasted until the early hours of the morning.
I didn’t want to tell him how I ran into Alex in the first place.
No, I wasn’t interested in that.
Opening the front door, I found James pacing the kitchen. There was a stack of papers sprawled across my island bench and seated at the end was GG.
She looked beautiful as always, poised in a red linen set with gentle curls dancing across her shoulders.
As I entered neither of them flinched until I put my keys down on the entry table. “Oh hey,” said GG, turning around. She sounded surprised to see me. Like it was impossible I could be at the house I owned.
“I was wondering where you were.”
She looked me up and down but didn’t ask where I was. Her focus was immediately redirected to James who continued to pace the kitchen whilst staring at the phone in his palm.
“What am I missing here? Is James ok?”
I looked down at the stack of papers. These weren’t the same ones I had found in his briefcase. No, these looked like forms and formally written documents, with a myriad of signatures littering the letters.
GG passed me the letter on top of the pile.
“It’s his Aunty. She’s trying to extort him for damages to her apartment. What a bitch.” I nodded. I couldn’t disagree with GG.
“I had never been to a home as clean and immaculate as James’ place. What could he have possibly done?”
James threw his phone down.
“Well, Barbie is of no help.” He looked at me. “And where the fuck have you been when I needed you, huh?”
Day 84: Tales Of No Waking Changes And Second Dates
I woke up in James’ bed.
I had never spent the night in what used to be my spare room. It was oddly strange and familiar all at the same time.
After James yelled and screamed at me for not being home when he needed me, I broke down in the middle of my living room.
At first, I tried to hide my face. I wasn’t successful as floods of tears littered the cream-coloured carpet. GG rushed over to me and helped me to the couch.
James quickly followed, not before pacing in the same way as I found him.
“Andie, babe, calm down,” James beckoned, kneeling before me. “I don’t need this on top of everything else.”
I couldn’t get any words out. But if I could have, they wouldn’t have been kind. I wanted to tell James to shove his anger up his ass and to leave me alone.
If I had any composure, I would have told him how little I cared about his problem. It’s impossible to care for someone who cares so little about you.
The tears didn’t stop until James wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me tight.
“I’m not angry at you. I — well — just miss you.”
There wasn’t any fibre in my being that could have predicted those words. I needed to hear them. I was desperate to hear them. And as he held me in his grasp, I felt it.
Then as he explained to me everything going on and I offered my two cents on how to deal with his bigot Aunt, it felt like a restoration of our friendship. We were doing what we did best.
It was moments like this that reminded me why I wanted to start a business with him.
He insisted I stay with him, in his bed, and I agreed. It was like the days we would go out dancing and crash at his apartment.
Alas, waking up this morning, our moment was clearly a temporary cease-fire. James had left the house before I woke, leaving no trace that he had even been there. The room was empty without him in it. The house was even emptier.
I climbed out of his bed and put the covers back in an orderly way. Heavens forbid I do anything else to set him off again.
Finding my phone still in my handbag from returning home, I noticed all the unread messages. Mostly from Alex.
I read through them, feeling guilty for only having seen them now. It was the last one that struck me;
“Are you free on Tuesday for dinner?”
Dinner would be nice, I thought. Sex would be better. I’m sure I could have both. I knew I could have both.
“Absolutely, sugar,” I replied.
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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