My cell phone rang and I answered it, glad for something to do. Nick had brought an old friend of theirs over and the others were so surprised by her appearance that they'd forgotten about me. And taking pictures of the reunion seemed intrusive, so I just attempted to stay out of the way.

"Hello?" I took it into the hallway, still looking back. Who was that woman? I hadn't caught her name. Kate? Cass? She looked vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it... From what I’d picked up, she was a fashion designer. Having no interest in fashion, I had no idea if she was perhaps wildly famous in those circles.

"Emma?"

My stomach sank. Jarvis. Fuck. He'd gotten my number somehow and had been calling since we met up after the Oasis show. I ignored his messages. "Jarvis. What the fuck do you want?"

"Just to talk, Emma."

"Shouldn't you be talking to Katie, J?" It was all over the tabloids this week that she'd finally left him. They'd been together for ten years, but fame had gone right to his head and evidently she couldn't deal with his side projects. Good for her.

"She's not speaking to me."

"Neither am I. Why don't you call her?" I clicked off, sighing. Another cell phone rang a moment later, our mystery guest's. She ignored it, just as I should have.

Kate

Kate noticed Em slipping outside and caught Nick's arm, nodding towards her. "Who is that lovely young thing?"

"Oh, that's Em. Our new photographer. I should have introduced you."

"Photographer? Would I know her work?"

"Remember those Plastic Fantastic bus shelters? She did those."

"Hmm..." Kate considered the door again. "She looks familiar to me. What's her last name?"

"Evesham. Emma Jane Evesham."

Kate laughed. Of course. Attempt to forget about Jarvis for two minutes, and instead, faced with the woman who had signaled the beginning of the end. She'd seen pictures. Never met her face to face. Listened to Jarvis and Alex talk about how sweet and wonderful she was. "She used to date Alex James."

Nick raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes."

"I know these people, Nick. Never met Emma before, do let me introduce myself." Leaving Nick watching her with a puzzled expression, Kate followed Em to the door, taking a moment to watch her without being observed. Em shook out a cigarette, squinting against the flame as she lit it, then leaned against the railing of the porch, breathing deeply. She was pretty, tall, with long legs and dark hair that needed a decent cut. Her gray eyes were huge, lined with impossibly long lashes, watching everything, taking mental snapshots.

Not Jarvis' type at all.

Of course, did he have a type? Kate used to think his type was short and bitchy, her, in other words. But she didn't know anymore. First Em, then a string of women with nothing in common, finally the vacuous blond bimbo that ended their relationship just a couple of days ago. She sometimes wondered if she would have forgiven him if he hadn't taken up with a bleached blond. Someone with a brain, an opinion, not a cookie cutter groupie.

Em. Em, she had overlooked. He'd brought her name into every conversation he could, Emma this, Emma that, until she was ready to scream. He'd actually asked Kate for advice on how to talk to her- just as friends, he was always quick to say. Maybe for Em. Not for Jarvis. He'd never introduced them. There had been opportunities, parties he didn't invite Kate to, nights he left to go clubbing before she was home from work, calls he always answered before she could touch the phone.

Time to change that. She stepped onto the porch, letting the door slam behind her, and Em turned, a smile on her lips that faded when she saw it was Kate, replaced by a "can I help you?" look.

"You're Em Evesham."

"Yes. And you're...? They've been very rude, didn't introduce us properly. I'm doing some photos for the B-sides project. Or its a book now. Or something." She sounded like Kate had ten years ago, her American accent beginning to blur into a British one.

"I know. And my ex is in love with you- I'm Kate Sutton." She extended her hand.

My world shook, then righted itself before I noticed her outstretched hand. Kate SUTTON?, my mind shrieked. Sutton? Jarvis' Kate? The uberbitch? What the hell is she doing here? Why can't I get away from these people?

I took her hand and shook it before she could slap me. I wouldn't have blamed her in the least. Jarvis was living with her whilst he professed to love me, that could not have been pleasant for her. I always wondered what he told her about me.

"Um... pleased to meet you." I'd seen pictures, but we'd never met. She'd had much more hair in the photos, now it was very short, almost spiky. Dark lipstick, dark eyes that were considering me coolly. Fabulous clothes, a tiny skirt that she managed to make look smart and sexy. Standing next to her, I realized I was at least six inches taller than her, but, like Simon, she appeared larger than she actually was. Perhaps her reputation preceded her. All I'd ever heard about her was that she was a bitch, catty in the most amusing of ways.

Jarvis adored her. He loved her fiercely and protectively, he would allow nothing to hurt her, ever. Outside of his own stupidity, that is. From everything I could see, they had an unconventional relationship, to say the least, but it was based on mutual trust and respect. He'd told me about how they got together, how he'd watched while she had an affair with... a ... married... man...

"Nick?" I immediately clapped a hand over my mouth when I released I'd said it out loud.

Em looked like a five-year-old who'd just told a secret. Since when did Jarvis like adorable women? Kate rolled her eyes, searching her pockets for her cigarettes. "Nick what?"

She blushed about ten shades of red. "Nothing."

Lighting her cigarette, Kate considered her. She'd looked as though she'd seen a ghost when she'd heard the name Sutton. What had Jarvis told her? "What did Jarvis tell you about me and Nick?"

"Nothing. Well..." Em looked her in the eye, and Kate's respect for her increased. "He told me that he had to stand by and watch while you had an affair with a married man. And his name was Nick. I imagine it could be a different Nick?"

"No. It was Nick Rhodes. But I don't think the others know, so keep it quiet."

"But they know you?" Piecing it together. Kate decided to cut her a break.

"I've known them for years. I was working for Blondie when Duran opened for them, Yasmin's been in some of my shows, we used to run into one another a lot. As far as I know, the others just think that Nick and I are friends. Were friends. Whatever. I haven't really spoken to any of them in years."

"So why are you here?" Plaguing my life. Christ. Just when I thought I was getting it together, yet another reminder. London is way too fucking small.

"Ran into Nick the other day, and since... well... Jarvis hated him, you know. So when I was with Jarvis, it was difficult to maintain any sort of friendship with Nick."

"Did you want to?" She raised an eyebrow at me, questioning what I knew. "OK, maybe Jarvis was biased. He made Nick to be an evil, terrible person."

"And Nick's not evil and terrible."

"No." Was he then? Jarvis had only given me the sketchiest of details, now I found myself terribly curious for more. When? Where? How long? Did Julie know or not? Before or after or during Taji? "At least not to me."

"You're his newest project."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he will mold you into what he wants you to be, then lose interest." So, is that a dig against me or Nick? Or Kate? All three?

"He's been very kind to me. Gave me a huge chance. I'm thankful for that, but I'm not interested in doing this forever."

"Really?" Catty. An arched eyebrow, alluding to my past.

"Ms. Sutton, you and I know far too much about one another for two women who have never met. My groupie days are over, and I have no interest in resurrecting them."

She sounded serious. And defensive. Kate wondered what she would do if she mentioned Alex's name. Run screaming? Here was a woman who did not want to talk about her past. "Alex does."

Em lit another cigarette. "Alex does what?"

"Alex would like to resurrect your groupie days, I believe."

"Yeah, I've heard that rumor, too. Alex doesn't know what he wants, beyond his next drink."

"What if he figures it out? Should I tell him where to find you?"

Em considered her cigarette for a moment.

Alex. Christ, can this woman actually just walk into my life and destroy my image of Nick and offer me Alex in the space of three minutes? No. No, because none of this is about me at all. This is about Jarvis. "I never fucked him, you know."

"Who? Alex?"

"No, Jarvis. Nothing ever happened between me and Jarvis." That's not entirely true.

"You think because you never fucked him, nothing happened? Plenty happened, Emma. He was in love with you. Do you think it's an accident that we never met before today?"

"He wasn't in love with me. He barely knew me."

"From what I heard, he knew you better than Alex did." Ouch. God, did Jarvis really tell her all this? Attempting to ease his conscience?

"He told you?"

"No. Jarvis never told me about you. Alex did."

Her eyes widened, and she was not quick enough to hide her curiosity. For a moment, Kate almost felt sorry for her. Alex had been insufferable to her, really. Em was far too sweet for the likes of Alex James. It was better that it was over, but it shouldn't have ended so terribly. "Did he? When?"

"A few weeks ago? Months? He'd deny it, but he still cares for you. I told him to just call you."

"He hasn't followed your advice."

"Good."

Em flicked her cigarette into the yard. "Good?"

"It had to end sometime, didn't it? Did you ever learn to handle him?"

Em's eyes were cold, colder than Kate would have ever expected them to be. "I never 'handled' Alex. I loved him. Excuse me, Ms. Sutton, I have work to do."

She walked inside, and Kate just watched her.

The pub was quiet in the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday, and I sat at my favorite table, flipping through Select while I waited for my lunch. Ash on the cover. Did them last week. Susan was working on setting something up with Prodigy. Octopus had been adorable. I had a shoot with Suede next week and I was pleased in some back corner of my mind, thumbing my nose at their old rivalry with Blur. A full page on the Charms. I loved their single, ‘Flavor of the Week,’ and made a mental note to ask Susan to track them down and offer my services. Hadn’t I heard something about their bassist and Alex? Hmm. Man, Select took the most annoying concert shots, all bad lighting. Pulp. Skipped right over that one. To Oasis. If I can shoot Oasis, then I will know I have arrived. And, ok, its another Blur rivalry. Continuing on... one day my pictures would be in the Images section, full page and suitable for study.

Page 89, and my heart leapt to my throat.

Alex, every inch my Alex, smiling, his dark hair falling back from his face as he looked up at the camera. This was not the sullen posing Alex of most magazines spreads, the ones I could just flip by with only a little tug at my heart. This was the Alex I knew and loved. Unable to help myself, I looked closer, realizing those were the steps outside his apartment. How many times had I leaned over the railing just like this photographer had, and seen that same smile?

His favorite black shirt, a v-neck so that you could see his irresistible collarbone. He used to be able to stop nearly any argument with me by pulling back his collar and shooting me a ‘come hither’ look. His trademark haircut didn’t cover his face like it did in most photos, casually brushed back from his forehead, letting me see the smile in his brown eyes. I missed that smile.

"Em?"

I slammed my hand down on the magazine, right over Alex. I wasn't entirely sure who was calling me, but I knew it was someone who shouldn't be seeing me mooning over a nice picture of Alex in Select. That category of people would include everyone I'd ever met, actually, and some that I hadn't.

And, shit, especially Kate Sutton. "Is this seat taken?"

I shook my head, motioning her into it. Fuck, why did she even come over here? We could have easily pretended we didn't know one another. "Are you having lunch at this late hour? They hate that here."

I smiled. "Ah, but I can pretend I'm a clueless American. They've come to expect me around three in the afternoon."

"The joys of an American accent. I lost mine years ago," she drawled in a perfect London accent. Kate's American? I did a quick rewind of everything Jarvis had ever told me about his Katie. Yes, American. But had been in London forever. "Do you live around here?" she asked, making conversation.

"I wish. No, all my money goes towards renting studio space in this area. You?"

She considered me. "Susan's your manager, isn't she?"

"Location, location, location!, she said."

Kate almost smiled at my impression of the insistent Susan. "My studio's around the corner, based on her advice as well."

"That Susan knows everyone, doesn't she?"

"She's brilliant, she should. Nick introduced me to her, now that I think about it." She met my quick glance with a cool glare as she said his name. Ok, Nick's off limits. Why the fuck is she sitting with me? She lit a cigarette with practised grace and I wanted one. But that would involve moving my hand, and then she will see that I was gooning over Alex. Fuck.

"Who's that there?" She motioned towards my magazine with a nod of her head, and a million bad excuses whirled through my mind. I wanted to say 'LOOK! OVER THERE! ELVIS!' and then toss away the magazine, but refrained and merely lifted up my hand. Best to act casual. I did not, however, dare to look at the picture again.

"Hmm. He's an ass, but a terribly good-looking one."

Tell me about it.

"Is that the Me Me Me article?" Alex’s vanity project, for lack of a better name. I’d been reading about it for weeks.

"Yes, I suppose. Hadn't read it yet." I hadn’t even noticed the other people in the picture, to tell the truth.

"Have you heard the single?"

Has she? Does she know him that well? "No. Its out soon, isn't it?"

"Next week or something. He played it for me the other night, its very... catchy."

I smiled. "Alex's songs always are. Terrible pop sensibilities."

"The b-side, about Tabitha, is funny."

Who the fuck is Tabitha? The waiter saved me from obsessing and I put away the magazine as Kate asked him to bring her lunch and a beer. I lit a cigarette of my own as he left, attempting to relax and enjoy myself. I'd been so looking forward to a quiet lunch on my own, and then spending the night in the darkroom. But that shockingly gorgeous picture of Alex had unsettled me, and now Kate was here to finish the job.

"Matthew- that's my assistant- insisted that I leave the office and eat something. I was annoying him. Do you mind that I joined you? I hate eating alone." She took a drag on her cigarette, nervous? Surely not.

"No. It's fine. I was just going to read the monthlies and see who I should be cultivating."

"What, Nick doesn't have a list for you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Nick does not control my career, as much as he might like to."

"Have you outgrown your mentor?" she asked cattily. I just raised an eyebrow at her. I was not about to trash Nick to her. She shrugged, stubbing out her cigarette. "He didn't like it when I did that, either."

"It's hardly the same situation."

"Hmm. Glad to hear it." She thinks I might have been sleeping with Nick? I struggled not to laugh. "Still, weren't you a teacher or something? How did you end up here?"

I was so tired of my story. Duran Duran, Plastic Fantastic, a bizarre set of concidences and luck. "Sheer talent. I'm fucking brilliant, haven't you heard?"

She considered me for a moment, then smiled. A sincere, almost impressed with my audacity smile. "I have heard, actually. Every time I turn around someone is talking about you with the highest praise."

"They never say that to my face. Fuckers."

She laughed. "Its fucking annoying. Can you do no wrong?"

I laughed. "Susan's a good spin doctor. I do vast amounts of wrong, believe me."

"You do not. You're a good girl from the midwest. Alex's said so."

"He was a terribly corrupting influence."

"And Jarvis?" Shit. What to say to that? I merely shrugged. She remained cool as ever as the waiter set a beer in front of each of us. Did I order a beer? "Thought you might need one."

"Why, do you plan on intimidating me all afternoon?" I wondered.

"No, just wanted to loosen your tongue."

"What about?" What could I possibly know that she didn't? "I'm not that interesting, I'm sure that Jarvis or Alex has told you all my secrets."

She shrugged. "It would only be fair, since Jarvis told you mine."

"I never asked him to do that. And he was very discrete, honestly. I certainly never would have guessed if I hadn't seen you and Nick together."

"Does Nick know that you know?"

"I didn't say anything to him, if that's what you're asking." Why the hell would I do that? What would be the point?

"I know you never told Alex."

"Never told Alex what?" There were so many things to choose from, after all.

"About me and Nick."

"I didn't know about you and Nick until just recently. There was nothing to tell." How many skeletons are in this woman's closet? What the hell is she so worried about? And who the hell is Tabitha and why did Alex write a song about her? He used to write stupid pop songs about me. Does he write pop songs about every woman he fucks? No, that would mean he’d have several albums worth. Songs about the women he says he’s in love with, then?

I lit another cigarette and swallowed a large gulp of beer. Show no fear, Emmie. She's waiting for that.

"Yeah, and then Alex got me drunk and I spilled it all anyway."

"He won't tell anyone. He loves to gossip, but he can keep a secret." Jealousy reared its ugly head again. Getting drunk with Alex was one of the most fun experiences in the world. It made me sad to think that I'd never get to do it again.

She rolled her eyes. "Alex might. Damon can't."

Damon was not always a fun drunk. His surly side came out. Damon and I used to have screaming matches about the state of public education when we were drunk. "If he was drunk, he'll never remember it."

"He wasn't drunk enough. He teases me about it constantly now."

Damon must have loved that. He'd had quite a crush of sorts on Kate, from what I could tell. But when I knew him he was too involved with Justine and M to do anything about Kate. M. I hadn't thought about her in a long time. "How's Graham? Have you seen him?"

Kate blinked at my sudden change of subject, but answered me anyway. "He's... Graham."

"Last I saw him, he was still upset about..." Would Kate know about M? "A broken relationship".

"He’s over M, if that’s what you’re wondering."

"Good. He was fairly shattered." She gave me that cool appraising look again. Oh, M and Kate were probably great friends. It had been a long time since I'd gotten that 'how do you measure up to the cool M thing'. I never did. Short of the same nickname and dating members of Blur, we'd had little in common. Still, I'd never disliked her until all hell broke loose and it was all over the papers that she'd been cheating on Graham with Damon. I'd been on the side of the wronged parties, Graham and particularly Justine. M had been one of Justine’s best friends, Justine was hurt and furious over the betrayal.

Then M disappeared, leaving her career and her friends. And everyone forgave Damon in the end; a missing person making an easy scapegoat. I guess that was the only way to keep the band together. "Have you heard anything about M?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "No. She just... disappeared."

"Did you know her? I was never quite sure who you knew."

"I knew her, slightly. I wouldn’t call us friends. You?"

"About the same. I don’t think she liked Alex much, so it wasn’t often that she was around when I was."

Lunch arrived, thankfully, and we changed the subject to other gossip. By the time we finished eating, I had relaxed somewhat. She wasn’t quite the uberbitch I’d been told about. When she asked for a card, murmuring something about her winter show, I handed her one, even though I’d never considered doing a fashion shoot.

Her eyes narrowed and she read out my number slowly.

"What?" I asked, worried.

She dug into her huge purse and tossed a phone bill on the table. "Why are there a million calls from Jarvis’ cell phone to yours?"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Ask him. Did you notice they’re all under a minute long?"

"Not all."

"Those are when he leaves long rambling messages on my machine. Which I promptly erase. Believe me, Kate, Jarvis Cocker is just about the last person I want to talk to."

"Why?"

Why? Isn’t that fucking obvious? "Because that’s a place in my life I don’t need to revisit. The last thing I want is to get involved in all that again."

She looked at me for the longest moment, definitely sizing me up. She was one of those women that couldn’t trust other women right away, just the opposite of my rosy ‘let’s all be sisters’ attitude. I was therefore a bit surprised when she raised her glass to me with a smile. "Fuck Jarvis."

Laughing, I clinked glasses with her. "And Alex."

"Definitely Alex."

We giggled, and over two more drinks, she told me what had happened between her and Jarvis, whom we roundly trashed. Finally silence fell, and we both looked out the window, noticing a man walking down the street in shorts and socks with sandals. I muttered "Does he have no friends?" much to her amusement.

"Speaking of which, Ms. Evesham, you could use a stylist." She arched an eyebrow at me. Joking or catty? I didn’t know her well enough to be sure.

I cringed into a corner, noting my battered blue t-shirt and ancient jeans. "I was just going into the darkroom..."

She waved a hand at my excuses. "You’re perfectly presentable. But put you in a decent dress and cut about half that hair off and you’d be stunning. Listen to me, I do this for a living."

Defensive, I ran my hands through my hair. "I like my hair." My hair and eyes were the only features I liked on my body.

"It’s fantastic hair. Most women would kill for curls like that. But you’ve too much of it. Here, let me give you a card..." She rummaged through that huge bag she had with her, telling me about Wayne, the Hair God. "Oh, fuck it. C’mon."

Standing up, she threw some money on the table, looking at me expectantly. "C’mon where?" I wondered.

"To Wayne. He’ll fit you in, he loves me." I held on to my hair like she was going to shave it off, and she laughed. "He won’t take it all. You could at least use a trim, right? We’ll look through some books, get a facial, a trim, it’ll be fun."

"But it’s late." Somehow, I was following her out of the pub, letting her lead me to a cab.

"Wayne’s open late. He does all us busy working women. You’ll love him, I’m sure of it."

I had no fucking idea what time it was. It was club time, no windows or clocks to help me. No one was even wearing a watch. Kate and I had opted to rejoin Nick over Simon's protests, so he'd moved from dirty dancing to buying us drinks. After three shots of tequila in a five minutes, I could no longer follow their conversation, and nodded my head to the bassline of the dance track booming through the club, debating whether or not to leave. I was having fun, but I had a shoot tomorrow. With... with... fuck. Lush? Were they tomorrow or next Thursday? And if they weren't tomorrow, who was?

"Katie!"

The bottom fell out of my fucking world. I didn't even need to look at him to know who it was that had just flopped into the empty chair at our table. Alex, every drunken inch of him. Fuck, wasn’t Blur supposed to be in Iceland recording an album or something? What is Alex doing in London at this horribly trendy club? "I haven't seen you in forever!" Why the hell is he so happy to see Kate? Why the hell is he so fucking gorgeous?

"It has been a while, Alex." She stressed his name, aiming it at me. Oh, I know, Kate. Don't worry. I'm half surprised I couldn't tell when he walked into the club. Nick and Simon both looked at me when she said it. Alex didn't even notice, still grinning at Kate, asking after her fucking health. I didn't glance at either one of them, instead lifting my glass and finding it empty. Nick kissed my cheek briefly and got up to get us more drinks, while Simon draped his arm around my shoulders. Fine, pull the protective boy act. I can use all the help I can get.

"Damon! Graham! Look who I found!" I covered my eyes with my hand as they approached. Fuck. Where's Dave? Only Jarvis could make my evening complete. At least I looked good. Kate and Nick had dressed me, telling me I was gorgeous, I just never showed it. Funny, Alex used to say the same thing.

I’d become Kate’s pet project over the last couple of weeks, shopping with her almost every moment I wasn’t working or in the clubs. She was right, why buy such great clothes if I wasn’t going to go out and show them off?

Such expensive clothes, so much money spent on tiny dresses and sharp suits for client meetings. I’d protested continually the first couple of shopping trips, until she saw my bank balance once when we were at an ATM together. "Five digits, Em! Buy a fucking dress or two!" It wasn’t like I wasn’t booked until the end of the year, after all. There was more where that came from.

So here I was, in a tiny black dress and cool silver shoes, my newly tamed hair curling around my shoulders... I looked great. I knew that. Then why did I want to run before Alex noticed me?

Damon's deep- and surprisingly sober- voice pulled me out of my rambling thoughts and I looked over at him. He glanced around the table, taking stock of who she was with.

"Em?"

"Damon."

Graham literally shrieked, making me giggle. Alex turned- Graham's shriek, my giggle, maybe both- and our eyes met briefly. Luckily, I'd had time to prepare myself. He hadn't, and I caught a brief flash of complete shock before he covered with his habitual blase expression.

"Emma." He only called me ‘Emma’ when we were fighting. Jarvis was the one that called me ‘Emma’ as a matter of course.

"Alex."

They were all watching us. Even Nick had turned around from the bar. Please, really, I will survive this. "You're looking well."

"Likewise." He nodded and went back at Kate. I must have looked upset, because Damon held out his hand to me, and I glanced up at him.

"It's been more than a year, don't I even rate a hug?" Grinning, I let him pull me into his arms. One of the things I most hated about that stupid break-up was that I lost the others, too. "Don't let him bother you, love. He's a fool, you should know that by now," he whispered to me and I nodded against his shoulder. If it were only that easy, Damon.

"Drinks!" Nick's voice announced behind me, and I stepped away from Damon, making quick introductions, noticing that Graham was still boggled by my presence. Grabbing my shot, I clinked it against his beer. "7, I think."

He laughed. "Crazy American fuck. You've got nothing on me this evening." Graham had never believed that I, a lowly American- and female, at that- could drink as much as he could. So we counted, generally losing track around 10, at which point I would attempt to cajole him into bed, to protect others from his drunken sarcasm. Tossing back my shot, I grinned at him.

"What's your total, then?" Damon and Graham and I quickly fell into our old argument of Jagermeister vs. tequila, and which was more lethal. Damon wasn't as sober as I'd originally suspected. Nothing had changed. Besides the fact that Alex was studiously ignoring me, that is. Simon was half over the table, leaning towards him, exuding attitude, and Nick was calmly watching. Oh, dear. Simon leBon's attitude vs. Alex James'. I expected the thunderclaps any second.

Simon hadn't touched his drink, and I leaned down to steal it, noticing that Alex was fondling my cigarettes. From the first night I'd met him, that man had stolen my cigarettes, it was a running joke between the two of us that I could never call a pack of cigarettes my own. "They're mine. Go ahead." Without stopping his conversation with Simon, he pushed them towards me.

A hit, sir, a palpable hit.

What, my cigarettes aren’t good enough for him? What the fuck is he angry at me for? He was the fuck-up. I downed Simon's shot and grinned at Damon and Graham. "Let's dance. Kate?"

"The ladies first?"

"I'm fine. Either more alcohol or dancing, you choose." Alex's head was right under my hand as I gestured at her. He was purposely ignoring me, the shit. I wanted to just whack him.

"Dancing!" Simon bellowed, wrapping an arm around my waist.

"More drinks!" Graham answered. The others opted to drink. Simon escorted me to the dance floor.

"Do you want to leave?"

"I have as much fucking right to be in this club as he does. Did you see the way he was ignoring me?" I glanced up to their table. He was laughing with Kate. She wasn't interested in him. She'd told me so. So why am I so fucking jealous?

"Only because he can't stand to think about what he's given up, love."

"Flatterer. Tell me more." Laughing, he moved closer to me, settling his hands on my hips as we both moved to the pounding bass of the music.

"What, that Alex James must be the biggest fool to ever walk the earth to give you up?"

"Yes. Precisely. Tell me I'm gorgeous whilst you're at it." He proceeded to spin the biggest web of over the top compliments I'd ever heard, all of which made me giggle delightedly. Who needed Alex fucking James? I was doing just fine without him, finally. I could not let this encounter with him upset me. But, damn, I'd never had an ex-boyfriend that mattered. How do I treat him? Do I ignore him, or act like we’re old friends? "I mean, him ignoring me is fucking stupid!"

Simon laughed, spinning me around and then back to him. "What, darling?"

Dizzy, I stumbled into him. "How can Alex ignore me like that? He’s pretending it never happened, like everyone here tonight doesn’t know that we used to be... whatever the fuck we were."

"He's being an ass, ignore him. Talk to your other friends. Graham and Damon seem happy to see you." His mouth was only inches from my ear as he leaned close so that I could hear him. Sighing, I rested my head on his shoulder, tired and drunk. The idea of kissing Simon crossed my mind briefly, just to see if that could get Alex to look at me again.

"I miss them. Damon and Graham, I mean."

"Let's go back, then." He kissed my cheek, then danced me through the crowd and over to the steps. The steps seemed very high, and Simon laughed at me. "You're a big girl, Em. You can do it."

"I blame you. How many drinks did you buy me?"

"Oh, yeah, little Ms. 'I drank 7 shots, Graham, how about you?' You're the one trying to impress your friends." He teased me up the steps, and we found our table with no empty seats. Simon went off to get us chairs, but I sat on the couch back, resting my feet next to Graham. Noticing me, he attempted to offer me his seat and I leaned down to him.

"You'd fall over."

"Will not!"

"Will too. Stay there, I'm fine."

Sighing, he looked up at me. "Why are you hanging out with Duran Duran, Em? And Kate? Fucking Kate!"

He had the worst habit of playing with his hair when he was nervous, and it was a wreck now. I smoothed it down for him. "I work with Duran Duran."

"Doing what?" He sounded absolutely incredulous. "You're a fucking teacher! Teachers don't hang out in clubs on fucking weeknights! It is a weeknight, correct?"

"I'm not a teacher anymore. I'm a photographer. And yes, it's Wednesday."

"Fantastic!"

"Hooray, its Wednesday?"

"No, that you're getting paid to take pictures. Damon!" Damon turned from his other conversation, smiling when he realized I was back. "Did you know that Duran fucking Duran is paying our Em to take their pictures?"

"I told you that ages ago, Graham. She still speaks to Justine. But I don't get the Kate connection..."

I laughed. "Kate and I don't get that connection, either. Only that Jarvis loved us both, we must have something in common."

"Oh, I always knew you'd be friends. That's why Jarvis never wanted you to meet. So how did you?"

"She's friends with Duran, I met her at the studio. And she figured out who I was."

"And gave you hell, I'm sure." Graham looked positively terrified of her.

"Yes. As a matter of fact, she did. But one day we ran onto each other and ended up getting drunk and dissing on you all."

"On us?" Damon demanded.

"Ah, not you, dearie. You and Graham are the only nice boys we know. But Alex and Jarvis should stay our of our way." I glanced over at Kate, deep in conversation with Alex and Nick. Alex and Nick... yes, they'd get on. I wondered what they were talking about. Art and French novelists, probably. Alex still had his blase expression on, the one he generally reserved for work situations. Funny, that. Is he that stressed out that I'm here? Simon appeared with drinks and joined our conversation, making a point of touching me whenever possible. Silly boy. Still, I didn't stop him.

Kate wanted to dance, and Simon and Damon joined her, so I leaned down to Graham again, laughing at his rants, taking little notice of Nick and Alex's conversation. Ah, Graham, Graham... he was a cynical drunk, funny without meaning to be. I'd forgotten how much fun it was to be drunk with him.

We’d been through a lot, Graham and I, many late drunken nights and stupidly intense conversations, days when Alex and I could only watch over him after M left. Graham had been inconsolable, brokenhearted at the thought that perhaps she’d killed herself. I’d never believed that. M had only wanted the attention, she was probably in France or somewhere suave and cool, with a scrapbook of all the press clippings of her disappearance. Graham was better off without her, he needed someone to take care of him and feed his cat. "How’s your cat, Graham?"

He grinned drunkenly up at me. "She’s fine. Did you ever get one?"

My apartment building didn’t allow cats, but whenever his cat’s food bowl was empty, I threatened to take her away. "I have fish."

"Fish are nice. What sort?"

"Just goldfish."

"I bet you always feed them properly."

I smiled at him. "I try. Been very busy lately."

He leaned his head against my leg as I smoothed down his hair for the millionth time that evening. I missed Graham. It sucked that Alex got the friends in the break-up. I glanced down to find the dancers just as Graham leaned forward. "Stop glaring at me, you sexist, floppy haired cunt!" Oh, dear. He was very drunk. I caught Kate's eye and made an exaggerated expression of 'help me,' turning back when she moved towards the stairs, the boys in her wake. Nick was gone, and Alex was placidly watching Graham yell at him. "I can talk to your fucking ex-girlfriend if I want! If you weren't such a sexist piece of shit, you could too."

"I haven't said a word, Graham."

"You've only been glaring at me all night. It's not my fault you threw away the best thing that ever happened to your sorry life."

I patted his shoulder. "Calm down, love. I think its time for you to go home."

"How can you defend him, Em? He-"

"I'm not defending him, Graham. I just think you've had too much to drink, and you're causing a scene." God knows where the gossip columnists were, but they were certainly lurking.

"Home, Graham." The others had joined us, and Damon pulled him to his feet. Graham continued to protest that Alex was a sexist shit, and had no right to be glaring at him. "Come on, Graham."

"Let me say good-bye to Em, at least!"

"Good night, Graham."

"You were always too good for him."

I smiled, kissing his cheek. "I know. Now go home, I'll see you again soon."

He had to tease me one last time. "I had more than you, and I'm still standing."

"I can stand!" To prove it, I stood up from my perch, my feet on the couch. Almost immediately, I swayed, and a familiar arm around my waist steadied me. "I'm fine!" God, I was sick of everyone watching me.

And I really hated how every nerve ending in my body leapt to attention when Alex touched me. He moved away, grinning up at me. "Sure about that, darling?" It was the first honest expression I'd seen from him all evening.

"Yes. Fine." With a sigh, I slid onto the couch. "But sitting is better."

Laughing, he leaned down to me, whispering. "You're such a darling drunk." Christ, Alex. Don't do this, don't flirt with me. My head in my hands, I looked up at him, hoping that my heart wasn't plainly visible. "Let’s ditch this lot."

I attempted to deflect him. "You’re too drunk."

"For what?"

"You’ve had ten drinks, and we both know you’re completely useless after ten drinks." Shit, what did I just do? Bringing up our goddamed sex life. He laughed, leaning down to say something to me quietly.

"Yeah, he talks to her now," Graham grumbled behind us, and Alex never took his eyes off of me.

"Couldn't get a word in edgewise, Coxy."

"Bullshit, Alex, you-"

"Go home, Graham."

"Too afraid to talk to her when you thought she might be sober?" Alex turned at that, and I rested my head on the table, whimpering. Usually Alex ignored Graham's drunk ramblings, but when he fought back, it got ugly. I tuned them out, jumping when I felt a hand on my arm.

"Are you ok, Em?" Simon, my protector. Thank god.

"Take me home. They're going to start fighting about chord progressions soon." He helped me up, staying between me and the fight the entire time. Kate was helping Damon deal with them, and Nick seemed to find the entire scene fascinating. We were at the top of the stairs when I heard Alex call my name, and almost turned. Simon pulled me forward.

"Don't. Trust me, just don't." In a moment, we were on the street, the air and relative silence shocking. All I could hear was Alex’s voice saying "Em!" echoing through my head. He wanted me to come back. Why? Simon started towards the taxi stand and I stopped him.

"Can we walk? Just for a bit?"

"If you think you can, sure." After a few steps, I managed something approaching a straight line.

"Why do I let him do that to me?"

"You were fine, sweetheart, really. Very composed the entire evening."

"I meant Graham, and the insane amount of alcohol I drank. I haven't even begun to obsess over my interactions with Alex yet."

He laughed, guiding me away from a wall. "Don't. Take my word for it, you behaved very well."

"I should have stayed."

"No. That was the last thing you should have done."

"But he-"

"He was planning to take advantage of the fact that you were drunk." Simon was not happy about that fact. Not at all. I started to say something and he shook his head. "No. He was. Trust me, Emmie, I know. I've done it myself too many times."

"No, he was Alex for a minute."

"Wasn't he Alex all night?"

Shaking my head threw me off balance, and I stumbled. "Not my Alex. My Alex was only for a minute, when he smiled at me. And told me I was a darling drunk."

Simon stopped, turning me to face him. "He was flirting, Em." I just looked up at him, trying to figure out what he was telling me. Of course Alex was flirting with me. He always did. He flirted with everyone. "He was playing with you, honey. He didn't mean it."

"Yes, he-"

"I'm only telling you this because I don't want you to get hurt again, sweetheart. He didn't talk to you all night because he was afraid what you might say to him. Then, as soon as he had proof that you were good and drunk, he moved in to fuck with your head."

"Maybe he wanted to say he was sorry for hurting me before."

"No, Emmie. Sorry." I blinked up at him for a minute, then it hit me, almost physically. God. Alex didn't love me anymore. Simon was right, he'd been playing with me- and I'd let him. It must have shown on my face, I let Simon lead me to a bench in a daze.

"Oh, shit. I wanted... I wanted..."

Simon pulled me into his arms and I gratefully rested my head on his chest. Simon likes me. Why doesn't Alex? What did I do to make him treat me just like all the rest, when he used to tell me I was so special? "I know, darlin', I know. It was hard seeing him, wasn't it?"

I nodded, not wanting to talk, too afraid I would cry. "It'll get better, really. I promise. It's been a long time, it was just a shock. Look at your life, Em. You are doing just fine without him. And, frankly, he was a real ass." That made me giggle, and he pulled away to look at me. "What's so funny about that?"

"It not like you were being very nice to him."

"I was-"

I moved out of his arms, smiling. "You were Simon leBon, rock superstar. I don't know who had the bigger ego, you or Alex."

"Damon."

Shaking my head, I stood up. I just wanted to go home. "You should see him on tour, when's he's performing every night. Insufferable."

Simon joined me, gently steering me in something resembling a straight line. When was the last time I was this drunk? "Did Alex have that attitude when you were with him?"

"Yes. But not with me. It's an act. He was really uncomfortable tonight, or he would have dropped it. Let's stop talking about him, or I'm going to get weepy, and you don't want that."

"I liked Graham."

"I won't tell you what he said about you, then."

"No, what? Do you want to get a taxi, love?"

"Yes." We stopped at the corner and Simon stuck out his arm. Presto! Cab! I loved pop stars. Good things just fall at their feet. He gallantly held the door and then slid in beside me, giving the driver my address.

"Now that I have you trapped, what did Graham say about me?"

"He said that Duran fucking Duran was the downfall of British pop music, synthesizers, blah blah blah, new money, blah blah blah, Simon lefuckingBon and his fucking pink leopard skin trousers, blah blah blah." I must have done a good impression, I made Simon laugh. "But don’t worry, he’ll take it all back when he’s sober. If I ever see him sober again..."

"Does that mean he’s never sober or you’ll never see him again?"

"Well, he’s rarely sober. But I meant I’ll never see him again." The cab went over a bump and I moaned. Jesus. I need another drink just to survive this taxi ride.

"You’ll see him again. He seemed happy to see you. Or will he take that back when he’s sober?"

"No. Alex used to complain that Graham liked me better than him. I got on with them all quite fabulously, actually. I’m good with pop stars."

He laughed at me. "You are indeed."

"Oh, fuck..."

"What?"

"Pop stars. I have to photograph pop stars tomorrow!"

"Who? What time?"

"I don’t know," I whined, whimpering as the taxi hit yet another bump. "Even if I can find my appointment book, I’m not sure I can see clearly enough to read it..."

"I’ll come up with you, love, don’t worry. I won’t leave until you’re all sorted out."

I smiled at him gratefully, resting my head on the back of the seat. "You’re so cool, thank you. To think, I used to be scared of you..."

"You were? Why?"

"You’re so... big. And you used to hit on me all the time. You stopped. Why?"

"You wouldn’t sleep with me. Would you?"

I shook my head. "Nope. That would be a very bad idea."

Smiling, he stroked my cheek, moving closer to me. "On the contrary, Emmie, I think it would be a very good idea."

"I babysit your children, Mr. leBon."

"You don’t believe in casual sex, do you?"

"Nope."

"Why? Not even if it would make Alex jealous?"

I laughed. "I doubt he would care. Didn’t you just tell me he doesn’t care anymore?"

"He was glaring at me all night. He just wanted to... control you. Make you care."

"Alex never controlled me!" Liar. My entire life was about him. But not because he insisted upon that. As a matter of fact, I doubt he even realized.

"That’s not really what I meant."

"I know. Weren’t we dropping the subject of Alex?"

"Hmm... yes." He told me an awful joke to change the subject, and I giggled for the rest of the cab ride, even as he unlocked my doors for me, since I couldn’t deal with the keys. I collapsed on the sofa and he brought me a glass of water and my appointment book. "Sneaker Pimps tomorrow at noon. Who are they?"

"The next big thing, of course. What time is it now?"

He squinted at the clock on my VCR. "4:14."

"Fuck me."

"I thought you’d never ask, love." He leered at me and I pushed him away.

"Quit it." He settled on the end of the couch instead, pulling my feet into his lap.

"Foot massage?"

"Shouldn’t you be home with your wife and kids?"

"It’s 4:14. My wife and kids are hopefully sound asleep."

"Why didn’t Yasmin come tonight?"

"Tired. She has a shoot tomorrow. She could get you fashion jobs, ya know." He slid off my shoes and and I sighed happily.

"No."

"No what?" He stopped rubbing my feet and I wiggled my toes at him.

"Not that. Fashion jobs."

Grinning, he went back to my massage. "Why not?"

"I will never take pictures of vapid women in overpriced clothes."

"Yasmin’s not vapid." He sounded positively insulted and I opened my eyes to smile at him.

"No. She’s not. But would you rather see a picture of her in a weird dress or in jeans, playing with the kids? I take pictures of real people. I have a philosophy of photos." I giggled at my overdramatic tone and he indulged me.

"What’s that?"

"My philosophy? No posed shots. Ok, sometimes I put people in a weird setting, or against a backdrop, but then I just let them be. That’s what fans want to see. Not fashions. People. I’m doing Kate’s show next week, and that’s what I’ll take pictures of. People, not clothes." We discussed photos for a while- and I woke up when the sun hit my face.

He’d pulled a blanket over me, and left me a note next to a glass of water. "Drink this. The alarm will go off at 11. Your shoot is at noon, don’t forget."

Susan was late, unusual for her. We were to meet at five at this funky bookstore/coffeeshop that she loved ... right? Glancing around the coffee area one last time, I pulled out my cell phone and headed towards the magazines, the real reason she loved this place. They had what seemed to be every magazine ever printed, from all over the world, it was how she kept tabs on all her clients.

She answered, surprisingly. "Where's Eric?"

"Ah, I gave him the afternoon off. Are you calling to cancel our meeting?"

"No, I'm here. Why aren't you?"

"Because it's at... oh, shit, I'm lost without that boy. It's not at six, is it?"

I laughed at her disgruntled tone. Eric was one of those perfect assistants that knew her life better than she did. I needed one of those, but had been unsuccessful thus far. "Sorry, Em, I'll be right there."

"No hurry. I'll be in magazines or fiction, just find me." We clicked off, but I knew it would be a while before she appeared, the way she was muttering about all the things she needed to do first.

Pulp was on the cover of everything, their first headlining tour of America a huge success. I turned all the covers around, knowing that Kate would find it terribly amusing when I told her later. I spent 20 minutes flipping through the fashion magazines, getting hints for shooting Kate's show in three days. Bah, I hated it all. Vapid fucking models. I'd have to find something interesting to shoot.

Still no Susan, so I headed back towards fiction, looking forward to poking around the shelves and buying books I wouldn’t have time to read. But I turned the corner and literally ran into him.

Alex, I mean. He reached out an arm to steady me as I swayed back to miss colliding with him. I pulled away the moment I regained my balance, and the smile fell from his lips. "Em."

"Alex." Jerk. What was he doing, smiling at me now when he'd been such an ass the other night? If only I didn't miss that smile so damn much...

He brushed his hair out of his eyes, trying not to appear nervous, but I knew better. He had a range of hair flipping movements, each with a slightly different meaning. The hair flip to buy time to answer an interviewer’s question, the more pensive hair flip when it was a question he cared about, the hair flip to make the fans shriek when he was on stage... This was the nervous one. Good. "What, erm, are you doing here? Not really in your neighborhood."

"Yours, either."

He shrugged, noticing the pile of magazines in my arms. "Fashion magazines?"

"I'm doing Kate Sutton's show in a few days. Research."

Smiling, he leaned against the nearest shelf. "I somehow think that you and Kate will completely terrorize the poor models."

I couldn't help but smile. We would indeed. "Kate rather enjoys tormenting them."

"I know. I tend to get tormented just because I know a few of them."

"So judgmental, that Kate."

Quiet for a few seconds, uncomfortable. Strange for us, we'd never been at a loss for topics of conversation. "Could I buy you a cuppa?"

Cuppa. Forever affectedly British, my Alex.

"You could have bought me a drink the other night."

Slightly abashed, he managed to meet my eyes from under that fringe. "I'm sorry. It was just... a shock, seeing you there with Kate and the Durans. The last place I'd ever thought I'd see you."

"Not really an excuse for ignoring me all night."

He opened his mouth to say something, closing it just as quickly. I could see a million thoughts in his eyes, but he dropped his gaze from mine, staring at a point on the shelf across from me. "No. It wasn't. Let me buy you some tea to make up for it."

I rocked back on my heels, considering. I was half annoyed that he was being sweet. This was dangerously close to the Alex I'd fallen in love with. It would be impossible to be friends with him, I was very sure of that. But it would just depress and annoy me to pretend to be angry with him. It was all water long under the bridge by now. "Fine."

He relaxed visibly, following quickly when I turned towards the coffee shop. Susan found us 15 minutes later, giggling over fashion magazines, and she raised an eyebrow at me when I looked up. "Susan!"

"If our appointment was at six, I'd actually be early."

"But it was at five. Susan, this is Alex James, Alex, Susan Lowell, my manager."

They shook hands. "Pleased. Tell me this is a business meeting," she demanded of me.

"No. Alex and I are... old friends." He smiled at my description.

"So, Alex, when do you want Em to do the pictures for your new album?"

He considered me, while I wailed "Su-san!" She never let me just have a conversation with someone.

"It's too late for the album, we've got things all set up for next month in Iceland."

Susan whacked me for missing an opportunity, but I just looked at Alex. "Iceland? What's in Iceland?"

"Oh, it's marvelous. Damon discovered it. Well, you know, for us."

"Oh, that's right, Justine told me he was spending some time there. But he's gotten all of you involved now?"

"It's incredible, Em, you'd love it." He rattled on about Iceland, and by the time Susan came back with her coffee, I was ready to book a ticket.

"I'm sorry, Em, but we have things to discuss?" she interjected politely, and Alex and I both looked to her.

"Oh, sorry, Susan."

"Yeah, I'm sorry for monopolizing her." He stood up, gathering his things. "Em, a pleasure, as always."

"Ditto."

Susan handed him her card. "Have your manager call me, we'll set something up."

"Great. I'll do that." With another nod to me, he was gone, and I looked to Susan, who was grinning at me.

"What?"

"You like him."

"I do not!"

"You do. You're blushing, and you were hanging on his every word."

I sighed, pressing my hands to my cheeks to cover my blush. "Old habits. We dated for a while."

"Lucky you. I'm sure you were better with him than that stupid women he's with now."

My heart sank and I tryed to ignore it. "Who? What's her name, Tabitha?"

"I don't know a Tabitha. He's dating Mimi Mei, right there." She pulled out one of the fashion magazines from my stack, showing me an absolutely devastatingly beautiful woman, all cheekbones and dark hair.

"How do you know?"

She lit a cigarette, smiling at me. "I know these things. Anyway, I hear she shows him off like her token trophy pop star boyfriend, and he's beginning to get bored with her." Alex? A trophy boyfriend? Impossible.

"How do you know these things?"

"I just do. I also hear that he's got something going with the bassist from the Charms." Oh. I loved the Charms. Their album was currently my favorite darkroom music. I tryed to remember which one was the bassist... piles of blond hair, a penchant for paisley. Smart and funny in interviews. Alex liked smart and funny.

"Yeah, he was never good with fidelity."

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow at me and I shook my head.

"Old news, Susan, really. I'd rather not get into it."

She patted my hand with an understanding look. "Fine. Sorry for prying. But would it make you uncomfortable, or the band uncomfortable, if I started calling around to get you a job with them?"

"Umm..." I'd never really considered it. I'd been so busy being self-rightously annoyed over my broken heart to think about the possibility that Alex might attempt to be civil to me. "I don't know. I don't think so. I ran into Alex and Graham and Damon a few nights ago, and Graham and Damon seemed pleased to see me, I think."

"And Alex was just here being all googly eyed at you, that just leaves Dave. And everyone knows Dave's the sort to go along with the rest of them."

I laughed. It was true. Dave was completely nice, and rarely offered an opinion on anything. He would be the last one to protest me working with Blur. "Alex was not being googly eyed!"

Her voice was teasing. "Was too..."

The fucking hall light was burned out. I had five goddamn figures in my bankbook and I was still living in a one room apartment in a building with a burned out hall light. The tiny flashlight on my keychain did little good, but it did light my way to fit the key in the lock. I stumbled into my flat, tripping over something before I could flick on the light.

Dropping my bags and cameras, I turned to see what had been in my way. Flowers? They were sitting in the doorway, and I picked them up, enjoying the scent of the lilies and roses, then checking for a card. Hell, the way my day had been going, they probably weren’t mine.

Fuck it, they are now. Kicking the door shut behind me, I dropped the flowers on the kitchen counter, picking out the card, which happily had my name on it.

In Alex’s handwriting. Yes, no doubt about it. I’d know that writing anywhere. I just looked at it for a long moment, wondering why the hell he’d be sending me flowers.

"Em- Good luck with Kate today. She can be a tyrant, but I have faith you can handle it. Ring me, tell me all about it." His scrawled signature, with three x’s on "Alex" and a phone number. A different one than the one I knew, I immediately noted.

Just like Alex to be a day late. The show yesterday had been fun, Kate had delighted in introducing me to the infamous Tabitha of the song, and I’d so enjoyed the pictures that I’d gone straight from the celebratory party to the darkroom. Thrilled at what I thought were interesting and new fashion shots, I’d gone over to Kate’s studio this afternoon, showing them off.

She hated them. Loathed them. Told me you couldn’t even see her clothes, and she never should have hired me. And a host of other horrible things, even dragging Jarvis into it. I was too perplexed and hurt to scream back at the time. They were good pictures, some of my best, I was sure of that.

Finally her assistant Matthew had just pulled me out of the room, telling her to shut up. He explained that Kate hadn’t slept- neither had I, I pointed out- and was stressed out because the early numbers after the show weren’t nearly as good as they’d hoped. It wasn’t personal.

Accusing me of taking Jarvis away from her wasn’t personal? Telling me I wasn’t interesting or smart enough to ever keep a man like Alex wasn’t personal?

I fumed the car ride home, and now I’ve got Alex fucking James sending me flowers. Absolutely the last thing I needed. I just didn’t want to get involved in his life again.

But here I was, running into him at various spots around town, arranging his flowers carefully. What the hell was I doing?

Kate was half an hour late. Should I be worried? She was angry with me, after all. But this was to be the big make-up dinner, where I apologized and she let me. "Is this seat taken?"

If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was following me. Or maybe I’ve just begun to hang out in the circles of London’s pop elite. He looked great, every inch the Alex James that got talked about in the gossip columns far too often. I motioned for him to take a seat, amazed at how calm I was. Then again, I was at that perfect point, drunk enough to be relaxed, but not giddy. He pulled out his cigarettes, offering me one, and I took it, letting him light it for me.

"Cool lighter." It was attached to a chain clipped inside his pocket. He used to lose lighters all the time, I assumed this was to prevent that.

"Thanks."

I took another sip of my beer, hoping it would keep me calm and unconcerned. "Every other boy has a wallet attached to a chain in their pocket, but not you. No, you’ve got a lighter."

He didn’t carry a wallet, never did. "Much more useful."

"Decidedly."

"What’s on your chain?" I followed his eyes to my hip pocket and yanked on the chain. So fucking trendy, I was. Wallets on chains, tiny tops and big pants. All Kate’s fault.

"Appointment book, the abridged version." He laughed, flipping through it when I set it on the table between us.

"You’re a popular woman. How do you find the time to terrorize London with Kate every night?"

I sighed. "I don’t sleep. Besides, she’s pissed at me."

"Why?"

"She made me take pictures of her show."

"And...?" His eyes were on me, and I had to look away, taking another drink. Damnit, the alcoholic effect could only last so long.

"I told her I don’t do fashion photos! I told her and I told her and she said she wanted something different, but I guess this was too different." I glanced towards the door. No Kate. "So I redid them, she apologized for screaming at me, I think we’re ok now. But she was supposed to be here 30 minutes ago."

"She’s always late. She apologized?"

Smiling, I glanced back at him. "She did." She never apologized for anything, I had been flabbergasted when she called me.

Shaking his head, he went back to flipping through my datebook. "You’re such a fucking miracle, Emmie. I can’t believe-" He stopped, pulling a piece of paper out of the back of my book. Shit. "You kept my number?"

It was the card from the flowers he’d sent me last week. "Umm... I guess I did."

"You never even called to thank me for them."

Our eyes met. No escape. "Thank you. They’re lovely."

"Surely they’ve died by now."

"Lilies never die." For a very long moment, we just looked at one another. Alex, Alex, Alex. My beloved, perfect, beautiful Alex. I wasn’t over him, not one bit. I never would be. Taking a deep breath, I tore my eyes away from his.

"Can I see the pictures you did for Kate? Do you have them with you?"

"Umm, yeah." I slid the envelope over to him, gathering up my appointment book, throwing things back in. He helped me, touching my hand briefly when he handed me a slip of paper. Fuck. Just that made my heart race. Oh, this is such a bad idea...

"What’s this?" He squinted at a snapshot in the dim light of the bar.

I grinned. "That’s my niece! Emily Astrid. Isn’t she gorgeous?"

"Wow. Wow. Yeah, she’s lovely. Tricia, I assume?" I nodded. "How old is she?"

"She was born May 14th. So whatever that makes her."

"Have you been out to see her?"

"Briefly, right after she was born. I keep trying to find more time, but..." I motioned towards my appointment book and he smiled, shaking his head.

"Was the pregnancy ok? No problems?" We looked at one another. Tricia’d had a miscarriage two winters ago, when I was with Alex. He’d bought me a plane ticket, taken me to the airport, gotten me to her. It might have been the sweetest thing he ever did for me. He’d always understood about my friends and I.

"It was fine. She had to stay off her feet for the last month, she was very bored."

He flashed me his most endearing grin. "Well, tomorrow you can call her and tell her I bought you a drink. And that I said she has a beautiful daughter."

I grinned back at him. "Better yet, I can tell her that I bought you a drink. I’ll be right back." It was easier to unclip my appointment book than to take it, so I left it with him. While I waited for our drinks, I glanced back at him. He was looking through my addresses.

But when I got back to the table, he was looking at Kate’s pictures, my book snapped shut once again. Quick cover. "Ta. These are amazing, Em. What did the originals look like?"

"They were just straight shots. I cropped these so that you can see the clothes more. I was trying to get the reactions to the clothes as much as the clothes... but she didn’t like that. God, she’s a bitch to fight with."

"I’m just a 24 hour bitch, Emma, deal with it. Found the fair Alex, I see." She slid into the booth next to me, trapping me between her and Alex. Great.

"Was that the plan?"

"Pour alcohol and Alex shows up eventually. Besides, I know this is just around the corner from his place."

"No its not!" Fuck. That was too defensive. But Alex lived miles away.

"I moved a couple of weeks ago."

That explains the different phone number he’d given me. And why he was at that book store. Crap. I went there all the time, was I going to continue to run into him? "Oh." But... I always pictured him in his old place. I liked that place. Now... now he lived somewhere I’d never seen. One more step out of my life. I am so fucking pathetic. "Were you attempting to throw us together, Kate?"

Smirking, she shrugged at me. Fuck. What the hell was she on now? Fine, she was stressed about her collection, but that did not mean that she had to go and interfere in my love life. Or complete lack thereof. "I did think you should thank him for the flowers he sent."

"She did. And you should leave us both alone, Katie." She shot us a collective scowl. "And what was wrong with her first pictures, I wonder?"

"You couldn’t even see my clothes! Fuck her vision, I need to sell some merchandise to keep me in that flat, now that I don’t have anyone sharing the rent."

"Here. These should move some threads." Reaching over me, he handed her the pictures, and she looked through them for a moment, hesitating before looking up at me.

"These are very good. Thank you for redoing them."

"You’re welcome." We smiled at one another, then she arched an eyebrow at Alex.

"Tell anyone you heard that, Alex, and I’ll kill you."

"Hey, that was proof that the uberbitch has a soul! I’m telling everybody." We degenerated into teasing Kate. What fun. Usually she teased me, it was nice having backup. But after just a few minutes, it seemed, he spotted his friends and left us.

"What, are we not cool enough that he couldn’t have them join us?" Kate made no pretense at being discreet, sitting up slightly to see who he was meeting. "Ah, fuck, I hope they’re leaving..."

"Why?" Unable to help myself, I followed her eyes. Ew, it was her. Mimi. Gorgeous, perfectly dressed and coiffed, she calmly accepted his kiss and my heart sank.

"I hate her. She hates me, too, but always acts all fucking sweet with me. Annoying bitch. Good, they’re leaving. Alex sometimes likes to torture me with her."

This shouldn’t hurt. This is stupid, Em. He’s not yours, he hasn’t been for ages now, why am I reacting like this? Kate put her arm around me, hugging me briefly. "Sorry." I looked at her, wondering what she was apologizing for, and she smiled guiltily. "I picked this place to meet because I thought he’d be there, and I thought you’d like to see him..."

"Kate!"

"You liked seeing him, don’t deny it."

"I did. But..." But I don’t like it when he leaves. "But its not a good idea."

"You’re better for him than she is."

I shook my head. "Drop it. Please."

Looking at me with some concern, she nodded. "Ok. Dropped."

God, never go clubbing with Yasmin leBon. Standing next to the most gorgeous woman in England couldn’t improve anyone’s chances.

Not that I didn’t like her. When Susan had showed up to meet Kate and I with Yasmin in tow, I’d been sincerely happy to see her. I still was. She was absolutely hysterical to watch as she turned down one pass after another. But, god, one pass my way would have been nice. I’d almost gotten used to it, the way Kate had me dressing lately.

I leaned against the bar, looking at Susan and Kate and Yasmin on the dance floor. It had been a weird night. Kate had found a dress of mine hidden in the back of the closet and demanded I wear it until I told her that Jarvis had gotten it for me on that tour of the States, we’d gone shopping in New York while Blur did promo work. It was a great dress, blue patterned silk, in a Chinese cut. We’d bought it at a vintage store for a fraction of what it was worth. It looked great on me. Alex loved it. I’d worn it to the Brits the night Blur won everything.

That was also the night that Jarvis had told me he loved me, but I hadn’t mentioned that to Kate. She told me I had valid reasons for not wearing the dress, but she didn’t, and so she wore it.

Of course we’d run into Jarvis two hours and three clubs ago. He’d approached me, and hadn’t got past hello when Kate appeared, smiling that sly evil grin that I’d grown to love. He lasted three minutes under our combined pressure. I’d almost felt sorry for him.

But now I was tired, and drunk, and beginning to feel sorry for myself that I was overshadowed by Yasmin. She only made millions of dollars off her perfect bone structure, should I really be holding myself up for comparison?

A drink appeared at my elbow, and I glanced at the bartender. "From the bloke down the way," he told me, and I looked down, noting that my drink was a Long Island Iced Tea, an obviously absolutely lethal one. I used to drink those with...

Alex. This will be the perfect cap to the evening. What the hell is he doing here? Are they doing that album in Iceland or London? Alex is plaguing my life far too often for comfort. He raised an eyebrow at me and I toasted him, motioning him over. Why the fuck not? I’m practically obliterated, whatever I say cannot be held against me at a later date.

I giggled at the thought, quickly covering my mouth. Shit, I’m at the cracking myself up stage. Alex grinned at me, leaning an elbow on the bar next to me. "Care to share the joke?"

"Oh, Alex, you know how I get at this point in the evening."

"Fucking adorable."

Oh, fuck fuck fuck. He’s flirting with me. I couldn’t help but to smile back as I took a healthy swallow of my drink. What did he always say about Long Island Iced Teas? "They make one quite bold." Yes, that was it.

Oh dear. "So why write a song about Tabitha?"

Hell, Em, toss caution to the winds. "Tabitha?"

I sang at him. Man, I was fucking wasted. "Tabitha’s island, wish it was my land, land ahoy..." He laughed at my rendition. "I particularly like the ‘land ahoy’ bits."

"So does she. She’s a friend."

"A supermodel. I know, I met her."

He grinned at me, a fucking familar grin. "Did you?"

"I’m friends with a supermodel! Yasmin leBon, she’s a supermodel, right?"

"Indeed." He was looking at me with that amused smile that I loved. He was just waiting for a chance to jump on my train of thought.

"She’s right over there." I pointed, but they were gone. "Well, she was. Really. She’s very nice."

"Ah, you’re lucky. All the supermodels I know are awful. Except maybe Tabitha. I just broke up with a supermodel."

"Did you?" I felt like jumping with glee. Where was Kate? Alex was now free, I should not be standing here next to him. Danger, danger, Will Robinson!

I laughed out loud.

"Is my heartache that amusing to you?"

"Oh, you’re not aching. I know she was all wrong for you."

"Do you?" He arched an eyebrow at me, and I literally bit my tongue. I wasn’t so drunk that I was going to walk right into admitting how jealous I was of Ms. Mei.

"Well, Kate hates her."

"Kate hates all models."

"She likes Yasmin. She told me so."

"Oh, Yasmin has a family. She’s been around forever, she’s a category onto herself. She doesn’t count as a normal model."

"Good point!" I finished my drink. I couldn’t possibly have finished my drink. Slamming it down on the bar, I sang along with the track currently blasting through the club "Flavor of the week..." He sang along on the chorus with me and I smiled at him. "No, you may not buy me another drink, before you ask. Did I hear that you were involved with the bassist from the Charms? What’s her name?"

"Kate."

"Kate! Of course! Too many Kates. So, weren’t you involved with her?"

He grinned at me over his glass, almost sending me swooning onto the bar. Jesus, he was so fucking lovely, with that naughty little gleam in his eye. "No, I wasn’t involved with her. But life is ever changable."

Fuck. Not that I expected him to be pining for me. But it would have been nice. "Is Kate the reason you broke up with Mimi?"

"No. There were many more reasons to break up with Mimi."

"Such as?"

"Such as Mimi’s a vapid supermodel."

I laughed. "Kate Charms isn’t a vapid supermodel. I met her once, you know."
He raised an eyebrow at me. "You did? When?"

"A long time ago. When..." When I was on tour with Ask for Janice, right after Alex and I broke up. The Charms and Ask for Janice had played on the same bill... somewhere. And then a couple of days later, Justine had gotten me a photo shoot with... fuck... who were they? The Jackson Bollocks! That was it.

"Hey, Em, can I jump on your train of thought?"

I laughed at him, realising that I was a million miles away. "A long long time ago, in a galaxy far far away in New York, I did a photo shoot with a band you’ve never heard of, and Kate was there with the guitarist."

He was interested, but not in my part of the story. I wanted to kick him. "When was this?"

"A long time ago. Before anyone had ever heard of the Charms or Em Evesham. Justine pulled strings to get me a gig, and I fucked it all up."

Alex had always been good at math. He made the connection quickly, and looked into his drink. This would be such a good moment to say you’re sorry, Alex. Did he have any idea what I went through after we broke up? "Enough about my love life. What about yours?"

I sighed, happy enough to change the subject. "Me and my camera."

Our eyes met, with the same thought. I’d taken pictures of him, of us, many many of them nudes. And we’d had extraordinary sex after those photo sessions.

"Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m too busy for a love life. And tonight I’m completely overshadowed by the most beautiful woman in England. I like her and all, but she just kills my chances of getting a date."

"Shall I throw some your way, Em?" Kate appeared in front of us, obviously drunk enough to be evil.

"I don’t want your fucking leftovers, Kate." Alex looked at her dress and back to me with a question in his eyes. Oh, dear. Suddenly I couldn’t help but remember the extraordinary sex we’d had the first night I’d worn that dress. He’d practically torn it off my body.

"I’m only getting Yasmin leftovers, don’t complain."

We giggled and Alex rolled his eyes at us, thankfully not mentioning the dress. "Where is the infamous Mrs. leBon, then?"

"She’s hanging out with the bloody fucking boring Vogue contingent upstairs," Kate informed us before leaning over the counter to get another drink. "I’m surrounded by the tragically hip up there, thought I’d come down and hobnob with the riff raff."

Alex laughed. "Bullshit, Kate, you just couldn’t get a drink fast enough."

She scowled at him. "You know who’s up there, Alex?"

"Who?"

"Models." She said it like it was a dirty word, and I giggled, catching Alex smiling at me.

"Anyone I know?"

"Like Mimi or any of her friends would be caught dead here at this hour. They only go to private clubs."

"Believe me, Kate, the last person I was looking for tonight is Mimi." He said her name with enough derision that I fully believed that he hadn’t cared much for her. Why did that make me so happy?