Page 33 of His to Keep
Amanda clucked her tongue. “Come inside, you’re shaking. Your clothes, and the stuff you brought from Rory’s is over there.” She pointed to a paltry cardboard box that sat like a rejected toy in the corner of the minute living room.
It was packed with a few odds and ends. The total sum of her relationship, not to mention her life, over the past few years. “You can take my bed, and I’ll sleep on the sofa,” Amanda said bossily.
She was a good friend, loyal and brutally honest, with a huge heart. Amanda flicked the kettle on while Lana balanced on the edge of the armchair.
She sighed inwardly. The tiny apartment was beyond cramped. It would only be a matter of time before she got under her friend’s feet.
“No way, Amanda, I’m not taking your bed,” she said firmly, even though she was abso-fuckin-lutely exhausted and wanted to curl up under the duvet for eternity.
“Look…” Amanda said, dipping her hip and resting her hands on the angular bones like she was ready to dish out a lecture. “You’re my guest, and my best friend. You’ve been through the mangle. I won’t hear another word about it. You’re sleeping on a proper mattress.” She wagged her painted fingernail and shook her head causing her russet corkscrew curls to bounce wildly.
Lana forced a faint smiled. “Okay, just for a few nights, until I get sorted with my own place. Thanks, you’re such a babe.”
“Bestie?” Amanda’s brow crept up mischievously.
“Yes. The best, bestie ever,” she said softly.
Lana didn’t have the energy to argue about the sleeping arrangements. Marcus hadn’t called since she left his place a few hours ago.
In her heart she hoped he would order the driver to turnaround, but she was dropped off in the centre of Belfast without any hesitation. The bland dove grey sky and light drizzle had lowered her mood even more.
She tried to pretend Marcus didn’t mean that much to her, but her foolish mind games were a sham.
Amanda strutted from the kitchenette to the sitting room in four strides. “You’ll be back to normal in no time, Lan. The bruising on your face looks way better. The Arnica gel worked a treat. It just looks like you haven’t washed your face.”
“Seriously, was that meant to make me feel better?” She scowled.
Amanda’s shoulders met her jaw line. “Umm, yeah?”
“So, not only do I feel like I’ve aged ten years, but I look like a homeless person too.” Lana cocked her head. “Which technically, I am.”
“At least you didn’t break your shoulder, then you would look like Quasimodo.”
Lana forced a sound that almost resembled a giggle but was more of a strained grunt.
“Lan, I’m here to look after you, warts and all. Have you told your parents?”
Lana exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I called them a few days ago. Mum wanted to fly over the minute I told her, but I played down the whole ordeal. The last thing I need is Hurricane Judy whirling through my life.”
“Would you think about going over to stay with them in La Rochelle, to get away from it all?
“I guess it’s an option, but I really need to organise my life here first. I’m homeless, manless and soon to be jobless. What a catch,” she scoffed. “I need an apartment and a new career. I’m sick of pushing paper about all day. It’s soul destroying. The majority of people in that place are like emotional vampires who suck every living aspiration and creative idea out of my personality. Maybe I’ll go back to college and study photography.” She half shrugged.
“You could do wedding photography,” Amanda suggested. “That’s popular.”
“Hell no! I’d rather claw out my eyeballs. I like landscapes and season changes. I could travel the world and capture images of nature in all its glory.” A twinge of excitement fluttered in her belly. “Or take foodie pictures. Freddy wants to open his own restaurant. I could take promo pictures.”
“Who’s that guy Freddy? He sounds hot!”
Lana hummed a laugh. “He’s Marcus’s personal chef. I hit it off with him the minute we met. You’re not his type.”
“I’m everyone’s type.” Amanda’s grin stretched across her cheeks as she sauntered back to the kitchen and grabbed two mugs. “Is he your new best friend now?” She pouted.
“He’s cool, but you’re nuts. And nuts, trumps cool. Okay?”
Amanda puckered her lips and blew a kiss. “Good. What about Marcus? Where does he fit in now?”
Lana pulled her sleeves over her hands and crossed her arms. “It’s over…before it really began.”
