New York Girl (formerly known as Maple Street)

Chapter Five

Since arriving in New York there was one thing I’d been avoiding at all costs, the heart - wrenching task of unpacking my stuff -  it wasn’t laziness (Ok, maybe just a bit), but the reality was half the boxes had some kind of an Alex memory attached to it – birthday presents, Christmas, Valentines – you get the gist - there was something so reassuring about having them sealed up, it was almost as if the bad stuff from back home hadn’t happened, but I knew I had to face it sometime. So on a dreary Saturday afternoon, just before the party I decided to rip the band aid off.

 At first it wasn’t so terrible – apart from some of my sweaters! I was pulling out some real -shockers! And then something occurred to me – right there in the middle of my furniture challenged apartment - the realization that I’d been walking around one of the most fashion - conscious cities in the world wearing New Look’s skinny jeans and long jumper combo from last year!

A day out in Manhattan is basically the equivalent to London fashion week – a complete Prada fest. The last straw came when I pulled out a reindeer sweatshirt from the bottom of the jumper pile. And it was then I knew that only one man could save me!

The little envelope flashed on my blackberry informing me that my message had been delivered, now all I had do, was sit and wait for Dad’s call. I already bookmarked Net –a – Porters web address so it was just a case of sucking up to him in the same way I’d always done – – something both Mom and my sister Sophia had never quite mastered, and as you can imagine were still very envious of.

After a few minutes the phone rang and, I could tell by the blank screen it was an overseas call. Good old Dad!

'Hello!’                    

'Lucy?’

‘Dad, the lines terrible, you’re breaking up.’

‘It’s me,’  beep, beep!   ‘Alex,’

 Beeeeeeeeeeep!

‘Hel, Hello? Hello?’

Someone tell me that didn’t just happen.

Still in a state of shock I made the very short journey to Jonathan’s apartment. I spotted some partygoers already camped outside his and I could tell they were a rowdy bunch by the way they eyed up the scantily clad girls arriving in their droves. I was just about to head back home when Jonathan appeared out of nowhere – and - oh boy – was he so much hotter than I remembered!

'Well, hello there mystery neighbour.’ He kissed both sides of my cheeks and the smell of his aftershave gave me butterflies. ‘You look great, thanks for coming.’

‘Thanks for inviting me.’

‘Let’s get you a drink.’ he placed his hand gently on my waist and guided me into his apartment.

His place was basically the male version of mine but what stood out were the paintings on the wall; a man with depth – check!

‘What’s your poison?’ He asked.

‘Do you have Pimm’s?’ What a stupid question – he’s American, they don’t drink Pimm’s!

 Pointing to a bottle on the table, he asked. ‘You mean this stuff?’

‘Wow! I’m impressed! I wasn’t sure if they sold it over here.’

‘You’ll soon discover I’m quite a fan of all things British.’

Swoooooon!

‘So what do you do for work?’

‘I’m in security.’