Polite Penthouse Soirees Make For the Perfect Opportunity For BFFs To Let You Down
Polite Penthouse Soirees Make For the Perfect Opportunity For BFFs To Let You Down
Tales Of Week 10 Of The Andie Chronicles And Her Breakup
Day 64: Tales Of Disappearing Roommates And Barbie Hangovers
James and I had a Barbie hangover.
We didn’t actually drink that much in the end. Once the red wine hit the floor, I wasn’t so interested in opening more of my expensive wine to see it wasted with such haste.
I also didn’t think the moment warranted anything ostentatious, considering James’ mother spent an hour telling us all the ways we were failing as people.
Specifically, she mused how unfocused we were on our business. And how far we hadn’t come in our endeavours to become better business people.
Her revelations about our life were crushing, and neither of us slept that well.
James was at the dining room table when I woke up. It was still partly littered with the remnants of the wine bottle label and half-eaten lasagna. He was nursing one of my oversized tea mugs, instead, he had it overflowing with coffee.
“You want one?” he asked, pointing to the pod machine in the office.
“Sure.”
I looked at the mess and my roommate and the pile of work in front of me and nearly went back to bed.
I relented; if James was this determined to fix our dismal situation, so was I.
As the coffee brewed, I started furiously cleaning everything in sight. I couldn’t stand the mess.
Every cluttered surface reminded me of my disordered life. I couldn’t see straight with all the obstacles in my way. Or the stench of leftover food.
As I furiously returned my home to its clean, habitual state, I noticed James packing his laptop and charger cord into a satchel.
I hadn’t noticed this leather bag before. I caught a glimpse of the Louis Vuitton logo embossed on both sides.
It was beautiful, iconic and very much unlike the one James was carrying a week ago.
Perhaps his old bag became damaged in the move. I knew he threw a few things away.
Day 65: Tales Of Taking Sides And Imaginary Conflict
Spin class.
Sweat.
Heaven.
It feels like forever since I’ve been to one. I tried to convince James to join me and GG for a session of huffy puffy, but he told me he had better places to be.
Considering we worked from home and our entire business centred around what happened at 1 Lovelock Drive, I’m not quite sure what he was talking about.
Where was this mystery place he spoke of?
And why didn’t I need to be there too?
I asked GG about James’ new disappearing act. I thought it might have been the man I met a couple of weeks ago.
Despite meeting him, James’ notoriety for having a private love life was a lifetime habit I knew he was unable to break.
“Do you think he’s still with Christopher and having sleepovers with him? Or day sleepovers?”
GG stopped cycling to contemplate the answer. “He did tell me it was all over with Christopher. Apparently, he was a selfish lover. He was all cock but didn’t know how to use it. He could please himself and no one else.”
I raised an eyebrow. It was too early for someone to casually be dropping cocks in my lap.
“You know how James gets. If they aren’t perfect, he moves on.”
I couldn’t deny how right GG was. James was a unicorn hunter, after all. Always looking for a mythical man to change his life. After GG’s divorce and my epic failure with Douglas, surely he would know better by now; unicorns don’t exist.
Alas, you can lead your friends to good wine, but you can’t make them appreciate it.
“Well, if he isn’t with Christopher, who’s he with?”
GG cycled faster. I assumed this was to make up for the fact we kept stopping and talking. She didn’t answer me.
“Hey, GG, are you there? Do you know where James is?”
GG stopped once again.
“Don’t bring me into this best friend, roommate drama, whatever it is. I’m friends with you both of you. Making me choose? I can’t do that right now.”
Who’s making GG choose? She normally loved a predicament like this. Something for her to unravel and put back together again. That was her territory.
And I wasn’t putting a gun to her head. I wasn’t telling her to take sides in some made-up war. I only wanted to know if she knew anything before I asked James.
What was the big deal?
“That’s funny. I didn’t know we needed a Switzerland in this situation.”
GG laughed. We finished our class and she invited me to dinner at Taylor’s apartment for tomorrow night. I said yes, only because I didn’t have anything else to do.
Probably not the best justification for accepting an invitation, but it would have to do.
Day 66: Tales Of Dinner Parties And Reappearing Roommates
“Can I get you a glass of something?”
Taylor was always the consummate host. His South Yarra penthouse was always adorned with everything an entertainer needs.
A fireplace.
A discreet and tasteful plunge pool that doubles as a hot tub.
Every glass you could imagine.
Even if you want a piccolo-sized old-fashioned glass, he had it.
And it was all him too. Most people would assume this man of the world needed a lady of the world to polish his entertaining skills. Yet GG was nothing more than a bonus to his unmatched etiquette.
Sometimes I couldn’t believe he was Douglas’s brother. My ex never had a flair for people.
And as I declined a glass of Grange, instead opting for soda water with lots of ice, I hated myself for thinking about my ex once again.
Though you couldn’t blame me for making the physical comparison. His brother and he shared an unremarkable likeness I had ever seen in siblings.
Right now I wanted to hate Taylor for it.
I couldn’t. He was too damn nice.
And it wasn’t his fault that his brother was a heartbreaking asshole.
Taylor was still in his suit from work.
“How was work today?” I asked him, knowing I didn’t fully understand what he did.
“It was stressful. We’re working on a merger with this Sydney firm. If it comes off, we’re really hitting the big time. If it doesn’t, well, what a gigantic waste of time, you know?”
I nodded. I couldn’t ask him any other questions, my limited knowledge of life was about to come undone. So I offered my sympathies instead.
“How annoying. It’s the worst when you put all your efforts into something only for someone to take it away without warning. I feel you.”
GG looked at me, giving me this death stare like I had said something wrong.
Did I misspeak?
Was I reminding them too much of the fact his brother had done that exact thing to me?
If that was the case, GG was reading way too much into it. And it was hypocritical coming from a friend who had never quite taken my side in this breakup.
Not that I expected her to dump Taylor and the Gallo brothers for me. But I would have hoped for some loyalty.
At that moment I could ask Taylor more about what he did, but the doorbell went and James came bumbling into the apartment.
I hadn’t seen him in over a day. I was close to sending a search party out for him but left it. I’m sure this was a hazing period between him and me, where I learned what it was really like to live with him.
“Did I miss dinner?” he asked. I shook my head.
And bit my lip.
Hard.
Day 67: Tales Of Nothing To Worry About And Suede
The rain started pouring as I had never heard it before.
The tin roof on the back end of 1 Lovelock Drive always amplified the noise but never like this before. I couldn’t hear myself think let alone anything else whilst the rain and hail lashed the building.
It was exciting, almost exhilarating to be inside. Had it been nighttime, I would have snuggled under my thick blanket and watched old episodes of Friends.
But it was only after lunch and you know, work to do, and all that.
James was in his room.
I’ve noticed ever since he moved in that he uses the powder room adjacent to the kitchen when he had to do a number one. But when he says he’s going to his room and doesn’t return for twenty minutes, it’s number two.
It’s times like this I’m thankful for ensuites.
Yet, when he returned from his room, he didn’t return to the desk. Instead, he arrived wearing chinos and a tailored blazer. A little fancy for the afternoon workday, I thought.
Any fool would know he was going out.
I watched him stop and listen to the rain. “Oh shit, that’s pretty heavy.” I nodded at his assessment.
“You’re going to get your suede shoes wet if you went out today.”
James pursed his lips.
He looked unimpressed by my assessment. I wasn’t purposefully trying to shit on his parade, but the rain wasn’t stopping anytime soon.
And it wasn’t like I was in control of the weather, either.
“But I have to go out,” he wined, with his shoulders slumping. “I don’t really have a choice.”
Now would be the time any normal best friend would explain where he was going.
A dental appointment.
A date with a hot lover.
A meeting with his bank manager.
Do they even have those anymore?
Whatever it was, most people tell the person in front of them. And as his best friend, I had never been so left out of the loop.
But things were different now. Our new relationship was changing before my eyes. I felt, at that moment, I couldn’t stop it.
And the overwhelming feeling that James was hiding something from me was now engrained in my mind more than ever.
“Where are you going?” The question felt loaded, even as it innocently left my lips.
“A meeting. Finance stuff. Nothing to worry you about.”
He left. And of course, I worried.
Day 68: Tales Of Intolerable Friendships And Fixing Life
“If someone told you not to worry about something, would you do what they say? Or would demand to know why?”
Sophia was staring at her phone screen. It was a Friday, and I met her for lunch.
I left James behind at 1 Lovelock Drive, mainly in silent protest of the fact he did the same thing to me all week. It wasn’t the most mature response, granted.
But I wasn’t going to accept precedence where he fucked off without telling me, leaving the business in my hands, and whereby that was ok.
I waited for some sort of reaction from Sophia. Nothing.
“Ok, maybe if I put it like this. If one of your staff told you they were leaving for the day, and it was none of your business, would you accept that crap?”
Sophia looked up from her phone. “My staff member did what?!”
I grabbed her phone and placed it in the middle of the table. Sometimes the world offered stark reminders that people my age, in their mid-thirties, didn’t grow up with this technology. And we were making up for it now.
“Are you serious? I’m listening, I’m listening.”
No, you aren’t, I thought. But ever since I brought up James when we first sat down to lunch, Sophia was avoiding this conversation. She picked up her phone and started scrolling furiously.
And before that, her focus waned when I talked about how striking the similarities were between Taylor and Douglas.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see history was repeating itself.
That being Sophia not wanting a bar of my life.
And then, out of nowhere, came her assertion.
“Look, I can’t sort out this beef between you and James. I’m not here to play go between for your life, ok?”
Staring at Sophia, I could see my once placid friend turn irate. She was bubbling with anger and frustration, all directed at me. I wanted to pretend it wasn’t me driving her to the point of fury, but it was me. Or something to do with me. Or all of me.
I had known Sophia for most of my life. She had never snapped like this before.
What was happening to my friends? Had I become that intolerable?
Pushing her phone towards her, I smiled. “I’m sorry. I’m just venting. How’s Malcolm?”
I lied, though. I wasn’t sorry. I felt crushed. And I’m surprised she didn’t know it, too.
Day 69: Tales Of Rain Soaked Life And Mystery Shopping Plans
Waking up today felt different.
(And no, not because it’s day 69 and there is no sixty-nining to speak of!!)
I mean, it was still my bed, my body, my pyjamas. And yes, the rain had returned and engulfed Melbourne’s beautiful weekend plans. But that wasn’t anything unusual.
I could handle the rain.
At least, with all my mounting suspicions and disappointment in my friends, the rain seemed the least of my problems.
I climbed out of bed, pulled on my sweats and headed straight out the door for a walk. I didn’t care that the beads of rain pooled on my brow, or that one step in a puddle soaked my runners and socks.
The harder it rained, the more empowered I felt to continue. To not let the weather ruin me.
But when I got home, I saw the state of my runners. They were starting to smell they were so wet. Like someone had left the dregs of cast wine in a glass for five days. It was toxic.
I immediately took the pair to the outside bin and flung them in. I didn’t have money for any new ones, though. Hopefully, a trip to the op shop later next week would fix that.
I came back inside and saw James sitting at the desk. He was peaceful for a Saturday, considering the weather calamity happening outside.
“Working today?”
He nodded. “Well, more moving money around. Wet outside, huh?”
“Sure is.”
I couldn’t explain why I dared venture outside, knowing full well I would end up a drowned rat. So, like all my friends lately, I didn’t offer an explanation at all.
“Had to throw my runners out, it was that bad.”
“Why don’t we go shopping for a pair tomorrow?”
I didn’t have any plans, and it would be nice to spend the day with James. Like the old days. Before all this tension started looming across our friendship.
“Yeah, sounds good. Chaddy?”
“That would be ideal if we could do Chaddy, actually. Two birds.”
And, of course, James didn’t tell me what else he had in mind. I would find out, in some twenty-four hours, I mused.
I stripped off and got in the hot shower. I found myself using the frosted glass as a makeshift whiteboard, writing down all my thoughts and questions I didn’t have answered. There were so many, the shower screen was full.
Something was still amiss at 1 Lovelock Drive.
For the life of me, I wanted to know what it was.
Day 70: Tales Of LV Runners And Mystery Introductions
Here’s something you completely forget when you work for yourself, you spend the majority of your time at home and you have zero love life and threadbare friendships; days of the week.
Mondays are Fridays.
Tuesdays are Tuesdays.
And when James and I walked into Chadstone on a Sunday, it’s then we remembered it was a Sunday, and not a workday.
And why we never came here on a weekend.
Only lucky enough to get a car park, we wandered into the Paris end of the shopping centre. I quickly paraded away from the expensive stores before James grabbed me by my handbag and threw me into the line out in front of Louis Vuitton.
“Why are we going in here?”
I sounded like a dejected child whose parents were forcing them to buy school shoes for the hundredth time.
“We’re getting you some new runners,” replied James.
The “we” in that statement annoyed me.
If it were “we”, I wouldn’t be buying LV runners. I would be going to Target and buying whatever close enough sports brand name shoes they had. But “we” weren’t making the decisions right now, I thought, sandwiched in the line and despising the argument I was going to have to have to avoid humiliation.
You know the type I mean, right?
Trying on super expensive shoes only to tell the shop assistant you can’t afford them.
Or, even if you lie to the shop person, telling your friend that you can’t afford them either when they clearly can.
But James shouldn’t be able to afford LV, I realised, thinking more about this situation as the line failed to move.
He’s as financially strapped as I am. We were both the same after quitting our jobs and solely working on Highway, our unisex clothing line. And we hadn’t made a cent from our business yet.
How could “we” afford anything designer?
We were finally let into the store, and James strutted up to the first counter he could find. “Can I speak with Sara, please?” The woman nodded and trotted away to find this woman.
“Who’s Sara?” Now I really felt like a child.
“She’s the head of client relations here.”
And as soon as James explained, an immaculately dressed woman appeared by our sides.
“Ahh, you must be James. Come this way. We have everything ready for you.”
Everything? What was everything? What was happening?!
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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