Air Kisses Read Online Free PDF Page B

you’re handling it okay, but I will just say that you are totally, totally allowed to be sad, and if you need to chat, I’m here. Let’s go for lunch, in fact. Oh shit, I can’t – I have an advertiser lunch…’
    ‘It’s fine, Jay. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ve had all weekend to cry.’
    I suddenly remembered my plan, and a jolt of strength surged through me. I really would be fine. I’d be better than fine, in fact. I’d be un-fucking-believable, right?
Right
? I knew I had to believe my own hype or I’d crumble.
    Jay’s eyes were filled with genuine concern. ‘Really?’
    ‘Really.’ I checked the time, anxious to get off the topic. ‘Hey, is this meeting on?’
    ‘Think we’re just waiting on Karen to arrive. But mark my words, he’ll regret this more than anything in his life; they always do.’ She sighed and shook her head in the way that only a woman who has suffered the same fate can.
     
    I always panicked a little at the idea of a whole-office meeting, but add the fact that everyone would know that my boyfriend –
ex-boyfriend
– had been cheating on me and it became unspeakably scary. Keeping my head down, I took a seat against the back wall and exchanged some platitudes with one of the art girls whose name I couldn’t remember. She was an exotic-looking brunette and was wearing more eyeshadow than was legal at such an hour.
    In the interest of distraction I began stealthily checking out what everyone else was wearing. This was a Big Mistake. The Glossettes looked
unbelievable
, like they’d fallen off the layout board. There were lots of beautiful dresses anddesigner jeans and cleverly cinching belts and high-waisted skirts and exquisite new-season shoes. I looked down at my dull black dress and wondered what the
Gloss
girls thought about their new beauty editor. Total fraud, probably. My dreariness flashed like Vegas lights next to a collective of girls whose butts would fall off if they were any hipper. Plus, everyone’s hair was perfect. Every single one of them. I touched my own and vowed
never
to put in less than one hundred per cent effort again.
    After a minute or two of loud chatter, everyone quietened. I caught one of the fashion girls watching me and whispering to another fashion girl, then they both looked at me with pity. The gesture was not intended to be seen by me, and when they saw that I’d noticed, the awkwardness was palpable. I badly wanted not to be in this meeting. Jay was right; maybe I should’ve stayed home.
    I refocused on Karen, who was going through the production schedule for everything that was going in the upcoming issue. She was wearing a simple blue shift-dress, excellent ankle boots, and I noticed she had dyed a stripe of her black hair dark purple over the weekend. Because she was beautiful and slight and confident she could get away with any look. Her only jewellery was a simple eternity band (she thought big rings were crass) on her wedding finger, and her make-up consisted of nothing but a slash of alarming red lipstick. On her olive skin it worked beautifully. She was cool, clever and really knew her stuff, having been in magazines (in several countries) for a good fifteen years.
    I liked her. She wasn’t the devil, she didn’t wear Prada, and I knew I would learn a lot from her. I had already discussed my pages for this issue with Karen, but I knew she’d put methrough my paces in front of everyone.
    ‘Hannah – wow, look at those shoes – just run through your pages quickly for subs and art, please.’
    ‘Um, okay, so first we have a feature called “Never get a spot again”, which is three pages—’
    ‘And the art for that one?’
    ‘I was thinking a few backstage shots of models with really clear skin?’
    ‘Sounds good. What’s this lipstick shoot?’
    ‘Um, that’s one we’ve bought from a photographer in New York, and it’s all about red lipstick, and there are three girls of different colour wearing the right lipstick