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The Secret Side of Us
By
Brienne Dubh
Chapter One
It was a long flight from London back to L.A. but if I’m being honest, I could have stayed in the air for at least another twelve hours. In truth, I needed the time to think as it had been a few days since I’d really been on my own, what with all the family farewell dinners and goodbye drinks.
I was looking forward to going back to L.A., getting back into a routine, seeing my friends, driving my car and even going back to work but I still couldn’t help but wonder if I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life. Up until four months ago I was engaged to an amazing guy who I’d been with for five years.
At the start of February, I was offered a promotion which was the best news I’d had in a crappy six months. I’d worked my butt off and I was glad that I was finally being appreciated and getting some recognition for all the hours I’d put in. But there was a catch (wasn’t there always?) the promotion meant a permanent transfer. I’d actually been headhunted by a producer from our main office in L.A., which is where I’d been working on-and-off since late last year, finishing off projects and tying up loose ends. I never thought that my temporary post at our main office could become permanent.
I never dreamed that, when faced with the ultimatum Steve had thrown down, I would choose moving to America on my own instead of setting a date for the wedding and planning kids. Was I being selfish? Possibly. Did I still love him? Maybe. Was I scared shitless? Definitely! Had I made a terrible mistake? Probably. Whether it was the right decision or not when it came down to it, I chose me over us. I sold my half of the flat back to Steve—not that that was a lot!—and kept on the apartment I had been renting in L.A. The last six weeks were spent saying goodbye to my old life, old friends and leaving everything that was comfortable and familiar to me behind.
I stepped off the plane at LAX airport at seven thirty on a Thursday evening in June. Immigration was a barrel of laughs, with officers like Roman Gladiators peering down at me suspiciously as I entered their domain. Although I had to be grateful I wasn’t landing in New York. The last time I was there, the officers almost convinced me that I was carrying a concealed weapon of some sort, with their tough line of questioning. Not that I blamed them, as I knew they were only doing their job, but why didn’t they realise I was not nervous because I was carrying anything dangerous. I just looked like shit because I’d been in a confined space for twelve hours with a screaming kid on one side and on old man with an annoying case of nervous flatulence on the other!
After retrieving my many bags from the carousel and pushing my way through the crowd of tourists, made it outside the airport doors and took my first steps towards my new life in America. The sky was a strange mixture of orange, pink and grey and the breeze was hot and sticky. I took a deep breath and, as I inhaled that unmistakable aroma of smog, I knew I was home. I looked down the vast line of waiting yellow taxis and caught sight of Jodie leaning against a classic black Mustang .
*
Jodie was the first person I’d met when I arrived in L.A. the first time round. I met her in a place called the Rebel Bar. I’d arrived on a Friday evening after I’d exited immigration in my usual post flight dishevelled state and, although I was excited about being back, I was sweaty, smelly and sick of my awkward and heavy bags.
I’d gotten a taxi to the apartment my company had arranged for me to use during my stay and it was about a thirty minute drive door-to-door. I opened the front entrance to a beautiful, two-bedroom place, just off Franklin and Highland in Hollywood. It was in a gated block of about twenty apartments, with a small garden and fairy lights highlighting the perfectly pruned bushes at the front. There was a huge pool surrounded by sun loungers at the back. After I had had the longest and hottest shower imaginable, I was feeling much happier and a lot more human, at which point it was time to go on a wander in my new neighbourhood.
