Just the Way You Are (16 page)

‘Oh?’ I tore my gaze away from a small thread on one of the cushions and gave her my full attention.

‘This is going to sound
so
daft, but I guess I should just come right out with it. No time like the present eh?’ She giggled in an almost manic fashion and quite frankly it scared me a little.

‘No, I suppose not…’ I was painfully aware my voice sounded like a DVD stuck in slow-mo but a wave of fatigue was slowly washing over me after the busy day I’d had.

‘God, I don’t even know where to start!’

I took a good look at Gwen’s face and was stunned by what I saw: she was
glowing
with happiness. I hadn’t seen her like this for a while, especially not since the whole fiasco with Tom.

‘Just tell me,’ I urged, pulling a cushion onto my lap for comfort. ‘You’ve started now so you might as well finish.’

Gwen placed her bottom lip between her perfectly white teeth and peeked up at me from beneath her gorgeously long eyelashes. She looked like a little kid who’d done something extremely naughty but was still pleased with the result.

‘OK, here goes… I think I’m in love!’

‘You what? Who with?!’

A little voice in the back of my mind told me I wasn’t going to like what was coming next but I ignored it. My best friend was
in love
, finally after so many disastrous dates and loser boyfriends!

‘This is the crazy part because I never in a million years thought I’d fall for him but
my God
Ava, I have – big time! He’s not my usual type of guy either but there’s just something about him that…’

‘For God’s sake Gwen, who is it?’ I chuckled.

I began assembling a profile of who it might be: tall, dark and handsome with loads of money, a fast car and a flash apartment in Deansgate was Gwen’s go-to type. I couldn’t imagine this one being any different, despite her claims to the contrary.

She let out a blissful sigh and looked at me. All she needed were little bluebirds flying round her head.

‘Ava… I’m in love with Max!’

Chapter 16

I stared open-mouthed at Gwen, unable to process what she’d just said.
In love with Max
?! The idea itself was totally bonkers, not least because she’d repeatedly told me over the years how she could never be attracted to him.

‘A-are you sure?’

‘Of course I am, silly! You know when you’re in love with someone, don’t you?’

If only it were that simple.

‘Not necessarily,’ I reasoned. ‘Sometimes you can
think
you love someone but in actual fact, it’s nothing, not even a teeny tiny little crush. I mean, the two of you have been mates for years and nothing’s ever happened. What’s changed?’

Gwen having feelings for Max bothered me more than I wanted to admit. Of course, it was all totally ludicrous but for the moment at least, she was sticking to her guns.

‘
I
have. I’ve realised what I want from a man now and it’s Max. Ava, this is the real deal; I can feel it. It’s come completely out of nowhere but it kind of makes sense, don’t you think? I know what you said about nothing ever happening between us and you’re right, but I’ve always felt like there might be something there, you know?’

I fought the urge to burst out laughing. This obviously wasn’t funny to her but I’d never heard anything more ridiculous in my life.

‘I can’t say that I’ve noticed.’ I knew she wouldn’t want to hear this but one of us had to talk sense, so it might as well be me.

‘You’re not attuned to these things like I am,’ she explained. ‘You know, I think he might feel it too! Look how nice he was to me when I found out Tom was married: he made me a cup of tea and he was just so gentle and kind. Then last weekend, when we were in Caffe Nero, we were flirting up a bloody storm! Ooh it’s so exciting, right? Don’t worry, if anything happens between us, you won’t be left out or anything; I’ll make sure of that. Anyway, I’m off to bed to dream about how I can bag him! Night chick!’

She hugged me then tottered off in the direction of her bedroom. It was like I could see inside her head: it was clearly buzzing with thoughts about Max and the potential relationship they could have together. While it was nice to see her so happy, I couldn’t help feeling like she was on a collision course with disaster. Not least because I’d snogged his face off recently.

Oh Gwen, if only you knew.

The next morning, I found myself in work staring at a very unfinished article on hen night locations as my brain refused to work. I was far too busy thinking about MistySparkles27 and Gwen’s doomed crush on Max to write about whether hen parties preferred Magaluf or Ibiza. In truth, I wasn’t arsed either way.

Writing the article while my brain was working overtime was pointless, I silently reasoned. It was like going swimming on a full stomach: inadvisable and potentially very dangerous. Who knew what sort of rubbish I’d come out with when I couldn’t give it my full attention? With that quandary resolved, I abandoned the article and opened MistySparkles27’s message from yesterday. Although I didn’t plan on doing anything about it, she still deserved a reply.

Hi Ava…

Before I could read any more, a shadow cast itself over the screen. I sighed wearily; I knew who this would be before I even turned around.

‘Can I help you Maddie?’ I asked with as much sarcasm as I could muster.

‘I highly doubt it,’ came her smug reply. ‘I just wanted to see if you were still working on your quaint little Valentine’s Day story.’

‘If you mean the story that actually has substance, depth and warmth to it, then yes I am still working on it. Are you still swanning round Manchester pretending to be Cinderella?’

‘Oh I don’t pretend dear, I really
am
the Northwest’s answer to Cinderella. I’ve got the dream job, the fairy tale prince; all I’m missing is an ugly sister. You can fill that role if you want to?’

I rolled my eyes and folded my arms. No way was she getting the better of me, especially not with a cheap throwaway remark like that.

‘I don’t know Maddie, you’re so multitalented maybe you could play both roles yourself?’ I suggested.

Her lips curled into a disdainful smirk. In all the years we’d been verbally sparring, she’d never been quite as quick as me and I knew she hated it.

‘Whatever. I take it since you’re sitting on your arse doing nothing that you don’t know about the pitches?’

‘What pitches?’

‘Oh I couldn’t possibly tell you that, might give you an advantage. Who am I kidding, of course it won’t! Paddy sent us both an email saying he wants us to pitch our Valentine’s feature ideas to him and Miranda at the end of the month.’

Fear flooded me; surely this couldn’t be true?

‘Oh
those
pitches! Yeah I’m totally prepared for it,’ I said, maintaining an air of cool togetherness when inside I was crumbling to bits.

Maddie didn’t look impressed to see that I was apparently on top of things. She stormed back to her desk and pouted miserably as she typed furiously on the computer.

‘Hey, what was all that about?’ Fran took a seat back at her desk and handed me a cup of chilled water from the cooler.

I threw my head onto the desk, my arms acting as a giant cushion. ‘I’m in deep shit, that’s what all that was about!’

It was MistySparkles27’s turn to be put on the backburner as I frantically searched my inbox for Paddy’s email. I waded through hundreds of emails from people who’d commented on my blog wishing me well or sharing their similar stories but I still couldn’t find the one about the pitches. Finally, I spotted it. It was sandwiched between two lovely comments from a woman who lived in Torquay.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Feature Pitches

Dear Ava,

Now that you and Maddie have had a little time to research your Valentine’s story ideas, I’d like you to pitch them to Miranda and me on Thursday 30
^th
November. I’ll be expecting a five minute pitch in which you outline your feature idea, name your primary and secondary sources and also tell us how this will fit in with the magazine’s existing content. Please also bring your research materials to back up your topic.

Kind regards,

Paddy McCann, Editor-in-Chief,
Sleek
magazine

I rolled my eyes; did he really have to sign off every email with the whole editor-in-chief bollocks? I already knew who he was; I didn’t need his title shoved in my face every few minutes. The contents of the email also meant I had yet another problem to deal with, as if my current lot wasn’t enough. Not only did I have to track down Mr Writer and Leo Browning, I had to somehow conquer my fear of public speaking and deliver an amazing to pitch that would wow Miranda and Paddy.

No pressure then.

The next morning, I finally got around to responding to MistySparkles27. My heart leapt into my mouth when a reply came straight back.

Hi Ava

You don’t know me, but I’ve read your blog and I have to say, I nearly cried! What a beautiful story; I’d love to see you find him and finally get your happy ending!

That’s kind of why I’m emailing actually… I think I might know who he is. I was at Manchester University at the same time you were and I remember a really good friend of mine talking about sending love letters to a girl called Ava. When I saw your blog, I just knew it had to be you! So, I want to do my part for true love and put you two in touch. I’ve spoken to him and he’s happy to meet up soon. He’s going away on a short business trip next week but will be back early in December. Does that sound OK?

Lots of love

Lisa Mackintosh aka MistySparkles27

‘Does that sound OK?’ I repeated in a voice that barely rose above a whisper.

My head and heart began to fight each other; practicality versus emotions. Here was someone offering me the chance to meet the man who could be the love of my life. I didn’t know if she was genuine or what this guy would be like. It was like taking a step forward in complete darkness. You don’t know whether you’ll fall or not. Eventually, I decided to let my fingers make the decision. Whatever I typed next would either close the book on Mr Writer or keep it going.

I typed back that I’d love to meet him when he got back from travelling and thanked her for getting in touch. Her name looked pretty familiar; I was sure Lisa had been a Psychology student when I’d been studying Journalism. I had no idea what I was thinking, saying yes. I’d made the concrete decision to abandon Mr Writer and focus on trying to bring someone real into my life, based on Ivy’s story. However, if I was going to write him off completely, I didn’t want any more what ifs hanging in the air, haunting me for the rest of my life.

Then it hit me: after two disastrous meetings with potential candidates, I was finally going to meet the man himself. Was I mad for making a U-turn on my decision or would it be the best thing I’d ever done? I didn’t know. Then again, sometimes taking a step into the unknown, not having all the answers, can get you more than you ever dreamt possible.

‘Just be careful,’ was Fran’s sage advice when I told her. ‘And maybe don’t jump up and down and squeal in his face when you meet him.’

I sat down and tried to make myself look like a relatively normal person. I’d been so excited to share my news with her that I’d done my version of a happy dance and sounded like a chipmunk on helium.

‘Good tip,’ I replied. ‘I don’t want him fleeing the country and changing his name to avoid ever seeing me again. I’m wondering if I should still try and get in contact with Dean Smith though; if I’m meeting this guy next month, I probably won’t need to.’

Fran raised an eyebrow at me and crossed one ridiculously long leg over the other. ‘Don’t you watch
Catfish
? You’ve got no idea if this guy’s genuine or not. All you’ve been told about him is he’s going away on a business trip soon and
that
came from someone else! What’s the harm in finding Dean Smith as a backup plan? It can’t hurt can it?’

I shrugged. ‘Suppose not, although I’ve got a good feeling about this guy Lisa Mackintosh knows. This could be it Fran; the guy I’ve been trying to forget since university could be sitting in some swish office right now, dreaming about the day we finally get to meet!’

I knew that to any normal, sane-minded person, I sounded like a bloody lunatic but I didn’t give a stuff. At last, after so many mishaps, everything looked like it was coming together.

In my lunch hour, when I probably should’ve been working on my pitch, I paid Max a visit at his flat. It was his day off and I wanted to clear the air between us. The fact it provided me with a perfect distraction from my upcoming pitch was just an added bonus really.

I stood outside the front door, palms sweating and pulse racing. I was dreading how this conversation would go; I hoped it’d let us get back to normal and banish all the tension between us but I knew there was a chance it could go the other way. After much fretting, I softly knocked on the door.

A few seconds later, Max appeared. His just-got-out-of-bed hair, slightly crumpled navy T-shirt and grey jogging trousers made him look dishevelled but there was still the trademark warmth in his eyes. He managed a smile as he leaned on the doorframe.

‘Hey Munchkin. Come on in.’

He stepped aside and I took tentative steps into his flat. Set on the top floor of a converted loft, it had high ceilings, beautiful exposed brick walls and golden oak floors. I made my way to the living room and perched myself on one of the comfy brown tub chairs. Max sat unusually far away from me on the matching L-shaped sofa. There was a stiffness in his shoulders and back; I’d never seen him look so tense before.

‘So…’ I allowed my eyes to wander around the room, not settling on one particular thing.

‘So…’ Max chuckled and began lightly drumming his fingers on his thighs.

‘Look –’

‘I’m –’

We laughed as our voices jarred in the air; the ice between us was definitely broken. I moved myself over to the couch beside him and he shuffled up to make room for me.