Page 9 of Two to Tango

Hanging up the phone, I feel like pulling my hair out. Actually. But I really don’t have time for that. I must pack for New York.

* * *

‘Izzy! Over here!’

I see a paper sign marked in – is that lipstick? – with my name. Then I see Kerry’s head popping around the side, where her perfectly painted pink nails are gripping the paper.

That’s my publicist. Flawless and fabulous Kerry. I have no doubt her leather pencil skirt and pink blouse – which matches her nails exactly – and those excruciatingly high black heels are all designer. But the fact is, with her figure and looks, it wouldn’t matter if the clothes had been dredged from a gutter. She would still look 100 per cent a-mazing. Of course, the look is all part of her job. ‘You have to know how to promote yourself if you want to be able to promote others,’ she always tells me. I’m pretty sure that’s a play on the saying about loving oneself before you can love another – you know the one. Anyway, she’s a fearless beast when it comes to flaunting her clients and that’s what matters to me.

‘Kerry, hi!’ I let her fold me a little too zealously into her arms and we perform the perfunctory air-kiss routine.

She sets off walking and talking, so that I am left trudging after her with my suitcases, dragging one in each hand. I managed to sleep for a few hours on my night flight but I’m still yawning as I walk.

‘You have a magazine interview tomorrow,’ she announces. ‘Your book signing on Thursday has been shuffled to five thirty at Barnes & Noble. We’ll get you there at five. It will be set up ready for you, of course. Oh, I’ve booked you a radio interview for next week. We have various things lined up next Tuesday for publication day, although most of the promo is online.’ She stops and turns quickly, making me crash into her swinging shoulder. As if the bump didn’t take place, she continues. ‘What are your thoughts on holding one of yourSalsa Yourself Slimclasses in the city?’

‘Ah, yeah, that sounds great.’

‘Good. Because I’ve started to put some feelers out with production companies. I was thinking we could film the session.’

‘Well, I already have classes on YouTube.’

She laughs at me in a way that makes me feel like a small child. ‘No, not just YouTube videos, Izzy. I’m talking real production, for a DVD or an online course. Interactive exercise.’ She takes a high-gloss brochure from her bag and hands it to me. ‘Here, take a look at this. I’d love to get you into this gym. A guy called Brooks Adams owns it. You might guess that from the name, ha. Who names a gym after himself? Anyway, he’s the man everyone in New York wants to be trained by right now. Let me know what you think.’

She spins on her devil shoes and heads out of the Arrivals exit. I follow her to a parked black Cadillac and finally turn over my suitcases to a suited driver.

Kerry continues to talk but when she tells me she will handle everything and that she’ll ping me a full schedule by e-mail, I allow myself to zone out.

I have been to New York a number of times: with my parents, with my girlfriends, once with a boyfriend. Regardless, the view of the city never gets old. I smile at the sight of the Brooklyn Bridge, set against the morning’s sky. When we get closer to the city, the high-rises force me to take a breath so deep, my chest rises. The Chrysler Building. The Empire State Building. The general buzz and hum of the busy streets. Even the endless streams of yellow cabs.

It’s all busier, brighter, bigger than London. I love it. I love it so much, I think maybe I was a New Yorker in a past life. Then again, maybe I was a squirrel or a hippopotamus or something, and now I just happen to love this city.

4

BROOKS

I’m sitting in my office sampling new products – currently eating a gluten-free, high-protein bar, and reading the related marketing paperwork from the supplier – when there’s a tap on the door.

‘It’s open,’ I call.

The door opens onto the mezzanine balcony of the gym and my friend Sarah, in her sweaty gym wear, is leaning on the door frame. Even with a red face and her dark hair tied into a knot on the top of her head, she looks good. Don’t read into that. I am 100 per cent friends with Sarah and no more. That’s why I can tell her, ‘You look in good shape,’ even when she’s wearing tight-fitting Lycra.

‘I ought to. I spend ten hours of my life in this place each week. I avoid carbs like they’ll give me the plague, and I can’t remember the last time I gorged on a tub of my favorite thing… BJs.’ That’s her code name for her best guys, Ben and Jerry. She plants a hand on her hip in an oh-so-Sarah way. ‘I’ve actually just been to the Zumba class. I’ve gotten into the idea of dancing to stay slim since that new fitness girl came on the scene. You know, the British one. She does some dance-yourself-skinny kind of thing. Anyway, I’ve seen one or two of her YouTube videos and thought I’d give Zumba a try.’

I lean back in my desk chair and swivel. ‘Did you rate it?’

‘It was cool. A nice change from being in the gym. That woman you have instructing is kind of crazy, though. Said she’s been divorced something like ten thousand times and, hell, for a middle-aged woman, she rocks the twerk.’

‘Nice critique. I’ll be sure to rate her high in the box that says “twerking” in her performance review.’

She laughs, something I love to hear from her. Despite her tough bravado, behind closed doors, Sarah can be really down. I mean, who can blame her when she was widowed so young? But I get a kick out of seeing her happy.

When I realize I’ve paused to reflect on her smile, I break our silence. ‘Hey, I’m almost done here for the night. Don’t suppose you’d indulge in some Monday night wings?’

I would usually use the guise of Monday night football to cover my obsession with wings but it’s out of season.

‘Wings?’ She gestures to herself, pointing from her head to her toes. ‘And ruin this? Actually, I might have to go back to the office. Drew is pulling an all-nighter. Another time.’

She drops a kiss to my cheek, comments on how bad she must smell, and leaves. It’s funny to remember that Sarah and I actually met because Sarah is Drew’s legal secretary. Drew introduced us more years ago than I care to remember. Now, Sarah’s a pretty close second to Drew in my best friend rankings. Although, she did just lose points for refusing wings.

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