Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Knowing, Chasing Harry Winston, Last Night at Chateau Marmont
In all the years we’d spent together, I’d never seen him so angry. Even Lily looked up from her magazine long enough to excuse herself and get the hell out of the room before this turned into an all-out war.
I tried to curl up on his lap, but he crossed his legs and waved his hand. ‘Seriously, Andrea—’ He called me that only when he was really annoyed. ‘Is all of this really worth it? Be honest with me for a second. Is it worth it to you?’
‘All of what? Is missing a homecoming weekend when there will be dozens more worth it to do something I’m required to do for my job? A job that is going to open doors for me I never thought possible, and sooner than I ever expected? Yes! It’s worth it.’
His chin dropped to his chest and for a moment I thought he was crying, but when he lifted it again, his face revealed nothing but rage.
‘Don’t you think I’d rather go with you than go be someone’s slave twenty-four-seven for a straight week?’ I shouted, forgetting entirely that Lily was somewhere in the apartment. ‘Can’t you stop for one second to think about the fact that I may not want to go either, but I have no choice?’
‘No choice? You have nothing but choices! Andy, this job isn’t just a job anymore, in case you’ve failed to notice – it’s taken over your entire life!’ he yelled back, the redness in his face expanding to his neck and ears. Normally I thought this was very cute, even sexy, but tonight I just wanted to go to sleep.
‘Alex, listen, I know—’
‘No, you listen! Forget about me for a second, not like that’s such a stretch, but forget that we never, ever see each other anymore because of the hours you keep at work, because of your never-ending work emergencies. What about your parents? When was the last time you actually saw them? And your sister? You do realize that she just had her first baby and you haven’t even seen your own nephew yet, don’t you? Doesn’t that mean anything?’ He lowered his voice and leaned in closer. I thought he might be getting ready to apologize, but he said, ‘What about Lily? Have you not noticed that your best friend has turned into a raging alcoholic?’ I must have looked absolutely shocked, because he barreled on. ‘You can’t even think of saying you didn’t realize that, Andy. It’s the most obvious thing in the world.’
‘Yes, of course she drinks. So do you and so do I and so does everyone we know. Lily’s a student, and that’s what students do, Alex. What’s so weird about that?’ It sounded even more pathetic when I said it out loud, and he only shook his head. We were both quiet for a few minutes until he spoke.
‘You just don’t get it, Andy. I’m not exactly sure how it happened, but I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. I think we need a break.’
‘What? What are you saying? You want to break up?’ I asked, realizing much too late that he was very, very serious. Alex was so understanding, so sweet, so available, that I’d begun to take for granted that he’d always be around to listen or talk me down after a long day or cheer me up when everyone else had felt free to take a swing. The only problem with all of this was that I wasn’t exactly holding up my end of the deal.
‘No, not at all. Not break up, just take a break. I think it would help both of us if we reevaluate what we’ve got going here. You sure don’t seem happy with me lately, and I can’t say I’m thrilled with you. Maybe a little time away would be good for both of us.’
‘Good for both of us? You think it’ll “help us”?’ I wanted to scream at the triteness of his words, at the idea that ‘taking some time’ would actually help draw us closer. It seemed selfish that he was doing this now, just as I was going into what I hoped was the last of my one-year Runway sentence and mere days before I had to pull off the biggest challenge of my career. Any quick jabs of sadness or concern from a few minutes ago had been swiftly replaced with irritation. ‘Fine, then. Let’s “take a break,”’ I said sarcastically, meanly. ‘A breather. Sounds like a great plan.’
He stared at me with those big brown eyes with a look of overwhelming surprise and hurt, and then pressed them tightly shut in an apparent effort to push away the image of my face. ‘OK, Andy. I’ll put you out of your obvious misery and leave now. I hope you have a great time in Paris, I really do. I’ll talk to you soon.’ And before I even realized that it was actually happening, he’d kissed me on the cheek like he would Lily or my mother and walked toward the door.
‘Alex, don’t you think we should talk about this?’ I said, trying to keep my voice calm, wondering if he would actually walk out right now.
He turned and smiled sadly and said, ‘Let’s not talk any more tonight, Andy. We should’ve been talking the past few months, the past year, not trying to cram it all in right now. Think about everything, OK? I’ll call you in a couple weeks, when you’re back and settled. And good luck in Paris – I know you’ll be great.’ He opened the door, stepped through it, and quietly closed it behind him.
I ran to Lily’s room so she could tell me that he was overreacting, that I had to go to Paris because it was the best thing for my future, that she didn’t have a drinking problem, that I wasn’t a bad sister for leaving the country when Jill had just had her first baby. But she was passed out on top of her covers, fully dressed, the empty cocktail glass on her bedside table. Her Toshiba laptop was open beside her on the bed, and I wondered if she’d managed to write a single word. I looked. Bravo! She’d written the heading, complete with her name, the class number, the professor’s name, and her presumably temporary version of the article’s title: ‘The Psychological Ramifications of Falling in Love with Your Reader.’ I laughed out loud, but she didn’t stir, so I moved the computer back to her desk and set her alarm for seven and turned out the lights.
My cell phone rang as soon as I walked in my bedroom. After the initial five-second usual heart-pounding session I endured each time it rang for fear that it was Her, I flipped it open immediately, knowing it was Alex. I knew he couldn’t leave things so unfinished. This was the same guy who couldn’t fall asleep without a good-night kiss and a verbal wish for sweet dreams; there was no way he was just prancing out of here, totally fine with the suggestion that we not talk for a few weeks.
‘Hi, baby,’ I breathed, missing him already but still happy to be on the phone with him and not necessarily having to deal with everything in person right now. My head ached and my shoulders felt like they were glued to my ears, and I just wanted to hear him say that the whole thing had been a big mistake and he’d call me tomorrow. ‘I’m glad you called.’
‘“Baby”? Wow! We’re making progress, aren’t we, Andy? Better be careful or I might have to consider the possibility that you want me,’ Christian said smoothly with a grin I could hear over the phone line. ‘I’m glad I called, too.’
‘Oh. It’s you.’
‘Well, that’s not the warmest welcome I’ve ever received! What’s the matter, Andy? You’ve been screening me lately, haven’t you?’
‘Of course not,’ I lied. ‘I’ve just had a bad day. As usual. What’s up?’
He laughed. ‘Andy, Andy, Andy. Come on now. You have no reason to be so unhappy. You’re on the fast-track to great things. Speaking of which, I’m calling to see if you wanted to come to a PEN award ceremony and reading tomorrow night. Should be lots of interesting people, and I haven’t seen you in a while. Purely professional, of course.’
For a girl who had read way too many ‘How to Know if He’s Ready to Commit’ articles in Cosmo, one might think the warning flags would’ve gone up on this one. And they did – I just chose to ignore them. It had been a very long day, and so I allowed myself to think – just for a few minutes – that he might, might, MIGHT actually be sincere. Screw it. It felt good to talk to a noncritical male for a few minutes, even if he did refuse to accept that I was taken. I knew I wouldn’t actually accept his invitation, but a few minutes of innocent phone flirting wouldn’t hurt anyone.
‘Oh really?’ I asked coyly. ‘Tell me all about it.’
‘I’m