Page 3 of What Happens in Dubai

‘Who’s next then?’ I asked.

Ashley stared at the computer screen. ‘Jan Hark? I can’t remember who that is again, can you?’

I paused for a second, trying to recall.

‘I know the name but can’t think.’ Ashley began searching the client database with her extra-long and pointed acrylic nails until we found a picture of Jan.

‘Oh yeah, I remember, she’s nice. I’m sure she’s lips and Botox.’

I sat down on the swivel chair at the reception desk beside my friend, but as soon as my legs expanded on the flat surface, my scrubs felt like they were about to burst open at the seams. I gasped uncomfortably as I observed my stomach drape over the struggling elastic waistband.

‘I’ll need to steal a pair of Raj’s scrubs again, Ash. I swear the scrubs are shrinking. Look at this – I’ve got more rolls than Morton’s.’ I was squeezing my stomach jokingly.

Ashley shook her head, looking annoyed, so I instantly shut down myWhite Chicks ‘Tina the Talking Tummy’impression that was coming next. She had heard my moans so often and could only reassure me so many times. Right now she seemed more concerned about changing her hair parting using the computer screen as a mirror. I watched on enviously. Her perfectly curled blonde hair suited any part and any style. The last time I tried a side shed like that I just looked like fucking Hitler. Ashley stood up eventually and walked around the desk to the filing cabinet, before handing me a pair of freshly ironed scrubs from the bottom drawer. I smiled gratefully at her for providing Raj’s spares. There I was, fitting into men’s clothing while she was rocking a tight pencil skirt with a short crop top tied at the front, managing to look trendy but still professional.

‘So, is it tonight you have the date with the old guy?’ she asked, finally satisfied with her hair.

I slapped her arm jokingly as I giggled.

‘Don’t call him that. He’s not that old, is he? I’m in my thirties now.’

‘Aye, just. No, I totally agree he is fit-looking but there’s no denying he’s ancient. Are you talking to anyone else?’

I sneered up at Ashley while I retrieved my phone from my scrubs’ top and held up a picture of another Tinder match I had been chatting to.

‘What do you think of this wee belter? I’m also messaging him.’ I began flicking through pictures of Luke. A student architect, he was young, muscly, blond and incredibly flirty.

‘He is also very, very good-looking, but …’

‘But what?’

‘Zara, he looks about twenty!’

I started to giggle, zooming into incredible abs and the large grey jogger bottom bulge he sported.

‘He’s twenty-four actually.’

‘Oh my god, Zara! You’re like fucking Goldilocks. Nah, this cock is too old, hmm … This one is too young. You need to sit on one that’s just right.’

We started laughing loudly, the sound of it filling the shop around us.

‘Stop judging! And by the way, they all feel the same after a while, to be honest.’

Ashley’s eyes were shiny with tears from giggling.

‘Absolutely no judgement here! At least you’re getting some!’ she exclaimed. ‘Every night Dave has a fucking moan. “I’m too tired” or “Wait till I play FIFA, babe”. You’ll notice he’s the one waiting after that. Oh, and the other night I was doing my fake tan and he waltzed into the bedroom absolutely livid because he finally wanted to have sex, but I had just done my tan so he couldn’t! The last time he shagged me with my tan developing, his mates at football kept saying he had a Michael Jackson dick. Mate, if it’s him or the Fake Bake, I know who I’m choosing.’

I was still snorting with laughter when the door opened. It was my second client, looking puzzled at all the hilarity.

‘Hi. Morning, Jan. Sorry.’ I cleared my throat, trying to remain professional as Ashley sniggered beside me.

‘Right, how are you? What are we doing today?’ I asked.

‘I think I walked in at the wrong time, girls. At least you lot can have fun at your work! I’m thinking half a mil in my lips and three areas of Botox please, Zara.’

‘Sure. I’ll set up for you and let Ash take some snaps. See you shortly.’

‘Not a problem. Let me fix this hair first, Ashley, before you take any photographs – it’s blowing a gale out there.’

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