'Will I ever be the woman with the perfect hair, who can wear white and not spill on it.' Carrie Bradshaw
It was Saturday night in the big apple, I still felt like a tourist in the big city but had been here now for just over 2 years. After leaving England I was adamant not to become ‘An American’. Don’t get me wrong I love Americans, I wouldn’t have moved here if I didn’t but I still loved my old British heritage, my cups of tea, my full English breakfasts, crisp sandwiches and as all my friends reminded me - my ability to say sorry on a daily basis.
I had done well in my two years here. Mum and dad had helped me out initially with rent and my first year and half here I lived like a student again. Sharing accommodation and a bathroom in a shitty area. It was hard work but I worked my way up in my job and managed to get a better place. I had lived in my new place now for almost 2 months and loved it, it was small, compact and cozy. It had a sofa and TV, a kitchen island separated the lounge part from the kitchen itself but it really wasn’t separate at all. The one small bedroom could only just fit my double bed in with a bed side table but it had a cupboard built in that housed all my clothes. The block itself was nice and well looked after, it cost me a fortune and I could only afford it due to the small fund I inherited when I lost my grandad 5 months ago. He was an amazing man, worked his way up to be a top business man from nothing. He had left school aged 12 – the usual story of rogue boy becoming a rich genius. Pity his son (my dad) didn’t inherit any of grandads good traits.
My intercom rang and I rushed to open the door, I knew it would be Jane. We were heading out to a new bar that had just opened. There was always somewhere hip and swanky opening in New York and Jane loved to keep up with the trend. I had worked with Jane for over a year now and she was my favourite American. She was born and raised in New York, came from a family with money but never let it get to her head. She worked hard to get where she was at work and gained a lot of respect for it.
“Are you ready to Parttttty,” she shouted as she entered my apartment, she was waving a bottle of Moet in her hand.
“No pre drinks we said.” Every time she did this I ended up wasted, “you will be carrying me out of here if I have more than one of them,” I laughed.
“Come on England, don’t be a pussy.” She got two glasses out of the cupboard and popped the cork.
“I’ll just have a small one,” I laughed.
After the bottle of champagne was finished we headed out into the warm air. It was May and the warm evenings made for a lovely night out on the roof top bars of New York. Jane hailed a cab – I still hadn’t figured the knack for that.
“We’re meeting Lisa and Emma,” Jane said as we got out of the cab at the bar.
They were her friends but I loved them like my own, nights out with them were always so much fun. Emma was an air hostess and flew all over the world, it was rare she was on home turf for our nights out and Lisa worked in the best boutique I had ever seen. I loved visiting her shop but never had enough money to buy any of her vintage clothes.
As we entered the loud, busy bar I could just make out the girls stood at a table at the back. Emma was chatting to a man and Lisa came running to greet us. “Hey am I glad you’re here” she said as she hugged me and Jane in, “Emma is trying to find a man” she added.
“Well,” I said laughing “I love being her wing woman so step aside.” The Moet had already gone to my head and I knew I was in for a fun night whether I remembered it or not!
The bar was drab so after our drinks we decided to head to an old favorite. It was a dark rustic bar that the wall street guys visited frequently. We were on the hunt for a wealthy man for Emma so what better place. The music was quieter than the last bar and the men wore mostly suits. As I looked around I was glad I had put the smarter of my outfits on. Most of the women in here looked like they were dressed to meet their next husband. Who would most likely be a wealthy up and coming financial advisor or Investment Banker.
I knew I shouldn’t mix drinks as it always ended up with me being carried home, regretting it and having beer fear for about a week after. What the hell though I was loaded up and fancied another Long Island Iced Tea.
When I returned back from the bar I could see the girls with a couple of guys, one of them in particular caught my eye. He was handsome …….really handsome. He had a clean cut, strong jaw and neatly gelled hair. There was something about him, he oozed power, he was wearing a shirt and suit trousers. The sleeves of his shirt were pulled up to his elbow and his tie had been loosened around his neck.
His friend wasn’t as powerful looking, he was also smart but looked softer and more approachable.
The powerful guy smiled at me as I approached the table. His smile was warm, his lips were kissable and they continued even when he wasn’t smiling to give the illusion he still was (not like in a joker weird kind of way though – it was cute).
I took a sip from my Long Island Iced Tea and stirred the straw around. The powerful man was still watching me but when he caught me looking he looked down and laughed, he seemed to find me funny.
“Hi,” I smiled at him. He nodded without saying anything and turned to talk to his friend.