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I trudged through the living room in my dressing down, only to groan inside as Chelsea’s voice greeted me.
“Tessa said you’d be in.”
Thanks a bunch, Tess.
I’d been avoiding Chelsea since our spat at the club, content to keep her on the periphery of my life for the time being. Seems she wasn’t so happy with the arrangement. I buzzed her in, flicking on the kettle as she marched her way inside. She had new extensions in, even longer than the last.
“Nice hair.”
“Purest platinum,” she smiled, twirling for me.
“Tessa’s on a double shift today, won’t be in until late.”
She rolled her eyes. “YouknowI came to seeyou. Not still sulking, are you? I didn’t mean to be a bitch.”
“Youwerea bitch,” I said, handing her a coffee anyway.
“Can we be friends again?” She fluttered her ridiculously long lashes, giving me her very bestplease please pleasepout.
“We’ve always been friends. I just don’t want to spend time with someone who thinks I’m a fat, desperate embarrassment.”
“I don’t think that!”
I shrugged. “Not how it sounded.”
“We’dallhad a few drinks, Gemma, don’t condemn me as the eternal sinner.” She took her coffee through to the living room, making herself well and truly at home.
“How’s the modelling?”
“Great,” she said. “Awesome, actually.”
That meant it wasn’t.
“Not shacked up with some ripped, fake-tanned celeb yet, then?”
She scowled. “I’m working on it. I want a footballer. Being a footballer’s wife would really suit me.”
“That’s your criteria, is it? A footballer? Any footballer will do?” I couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity. I must be a glutton for punishment, but I’d kind of missed the silly cow.
“A Premier League footballer. Preferably one that doesn’t look likeShrek.”
“Preferably?”
She shrugged. “Wouldn’t be a total deal breaker.”
“So, he must be in the Premier League, and preferably better looking than an ogre?”
“Yeah.”
“Fair enough.”
“I want that Spanish lad, Theo Fernandez from the Singers. He’s hot.”
My expression must have been completely blank, as it led her to pull out her mobile and shove Google images in my face.
“He looks about twelve.”
“Whatever,Gemma, how many twelve year olds do you know with abs like that?”
