Unforgettable Embrace Page 2

  She shivered as she gathered her fluffy pink bathrobe around herself. She cranked the heating up several notches, filled the kettle and poured several spoons of coffee into her biggest mug. She sat at the kitchen table inhaling the strong aroma of the coffee beans, hoping they would clear the fog which enveloped her brain.

  The thought of food made her feel slightly nauseous, so she decided to just stick with the coffee.

  So much for today being the first day of the rest of your life, she thought to herself, nothing like starting the rest of your life with a raging hangover. Pull yourself together, woman, and get in the shower.

  Rachel was glad that Tony had insisted on installing a top of the range power shower. All the weeks of listening to him rambling on about this model versus the features in another model had been worth it, she thought as the water beat down on her tired body. They'd spent several tedious Saturdays trawling around hardware shops, trying to find the perfect model.

  Rachel didn't care as long as it had hot water and worked, but Tony was almost obsessed with finding the best.

  She couldn't believe the difference between their old trickle of a shower and the new power range version. It was on mornings like this that she really appreciated the force of the water to wake her up.

  The combination of hot water and citrus shower gel was beginning to energise her and clear her head slightly.

  She surveyed the clothes in her wardrobe and decided to wear something different to her usual style. Usually, she dressed for comfort rather than style, but today she felt like trying something new, so after a search around the back of her wardrobe she discovered a tight-fitting black A-line pencil skirt, a white blouse with some funky cuff links and her highest stiletto heels.

  She meticulously straightened her long brown hair and left it loose, instead of tying it up in her usual bun or ponytail. She spritzed herself with her favourite perfume, Aqua di Gio, grabbed her handbag and headed out the door for work, with a definite spring in her step.

  Rachel was quite pleased and a touch surprised at the appraising looks she received at the bus stop as she waited for the bus to work. She always got the bus to work as it picked her up just across the road from her apartment and dropped her outside her office block, right in the centre of the city. It just wasn't worth the stress driving through the morning and evening traffic jams, when she could jump on board and listen to her IPod all the way to work.

  Rachel worked at Sherrington Resorts, a multinational call-centre, which made international hotel reservations for Sherrington's hotels and holiday resorts world-wide. She was supervisor of the French team, which comprised seven team members. It was her job to organise holidays, monitor telephone calls and train the team on how to upsell hotel rooms. She also had various reports which she had to produce on a monthly basis for senior management, but all in all it was a job which she very much enjoyed.

  By 8.30am she was sitting at her desk, reading through her emails, and setting up her plan of work for the day. She had several meetings in the morning but had a two hour free period in the early afternoon.

  Usually, she would meet Anthony for lunch. Today would be her first day eating alone. She felt a little pang, and a little lost, but she quickly brushed the feelings aside.

  This is your life now, she reminded herself, embrace it. No more, what would we like to do for lunch, now it's what would I like to do for lunch?

  She couldn't think of anything she particularly wanted to do. All she could think about was how attached she had been to Anthony. She wondered if he was feeling the same withdrawal symptoms as her.

  You need to make some new habits of your own, she told herself. She'd read somewhere that it takes six weeks to break an old habit and replace it with a new one.

  She decided to throw herself into work-related matters for the rest of the morning, in an effort to stop her mind obsessing over what she would do for lunch.

  The morning flew by, and her 12.30pm to 2.30pm lunch period loomed ahead of Rachel. She contemplated working through the two hours but decided that she had better start as she meant to go on and start embracing her single life with all its ups and downs. She had been so focused on the ups of being single that she'd neglected to take into account the downs.

  She contemplated joining her work colleagues for lunch in the canteen, but she didn't think she could face it in her current maudlin mood.

  She picked up her bag and made her way into town. She walked by her and Anthony's usual lunch-time haunt and briefly glanced inside. She was surprised to spot Anthony sitting at a table by the window.

  She waved hesitantly at him. He nodded curtly and turned back to his companion, with whom he was having a very animated conversation. Her heart sank at his reaction, and she had to remind herself that it was she who had broken up with him.

  House of Fraser loomed welcomingly across the road and Rachel scuttled hurriedly inside. She breathed a sigh of relief to be in the luxurious safety of her favourite shop, away from the busy lunch-time crowds outside, and the mean glares of her ex-boyfriend. They were having a fifty per cent discount across the store.

  Rachel felt her mood suddenly lighten as she made her way to the shoe section. It wasn't long until she spotted her Louboutins, specifically the Louboutin “Miss 120”, an absolutely divine ankle boot, covered in the softest black suede. The new love of my life, she thought adoringly.

  “Do you need any help, madam?” the sales assistant asked Rachel politely.

  “I'd like to try these in a size five please.”

  “Certainly, madam, I won't be a moment.”

  The sales assistant scurried away and very quickly returned with the most beautiful shoes Rachel had ever seen. She shook slightly as she slipped her foot tenderly into them.

  “They're a perfect fit,” Rachel murmured.

  “They suit you,” the sales assistant smiled encouragingly at her, no doubt thinking of the commission she could earn.

  Rachel paraded up and down in front of the mirror. The shoes made her look and feel so elegant.

  “They are stunning on you,” the sales assistant smiled.

  “Completely irresistible,” Rachel sighed, as she admired the shoes longingly. “Is there any discount on the Louboutins in the sale?”

  “Unfortunately not,” the sales assistant responded, “but there is a ten per cent discount if you sign up to the House of Fraser store card.”

  “What if I sign up to ten store cards, does that mean I get a hundred per cent discount?” Rachel joked.

  “Hmm, not quite,” was the indulgent response. “They are a timeless shoe,” the sales assistant enthused, “a classic.”

  “Yes, but with a price tag to match it,” Rachel sighed. Reluctantly she removed the Louboutins from her feet and placed them lovingly back in their box.

  “Would you like to try any other shoes?” the sales assistant asked kindly.

  “No, I'll take the Louboutins,” Rachel couldn't believe what she was saying. Even the sales assistant looked taken aback.

  “You'll take them?” she asked incredulously. “Yes and please hurry, before I come to my senses,” Rachel replied.

  She handed over her credit card, punched in her pin number and before she knew it she was walking out of the shop, the very proud owner of her first pair of Louboutins. That was painless enough, she thought to herself, blocking out the massive dent in her finances, as she floated up the high street and made her way back to work.

  She couldn't resist peeping into the box several times that afternoon to examine her purchase. “I deserve some extravagance in my life,” she justified to herself. She couldn't wait for Friday night to show the girls her new loves.

  Chapter 3

  “What have you got on your feet?!” Jen shrieked as Rachel tottered towards her in her new dangerously high Louboutins.

  “These old things?” Rachel smirked smugly, whilst glancing lovingly at her shoes, “they're just a little something I decided to treat myself
to last week.”

  She flopped nonchalantly down on the couch beside her friends.

  “They are breathtaking,” Elizabeth Willows, who was Rachel's friend from college, stared at the shoes in awe.

  “So was the price tag, I'm sure,” said Jen, “I saw that exact pair in a magazine the other day for £795, and that was sterling, I can't imagine what they cost in Euro.”

  “Trust me; you don't want to imagine either,” Rachel said weakly, “I'm dreading my next credit card statement.

  “It's only money,” Liz consoled her friend, “you deserve it. You've always wanted a pair of Louboutins and you're never extravagant, so it's about time you spent some of your hard-earned cash on yourself.”

  “The most expensive thing in my wardrobe, before the Louboutins of course, was a winter coat from Marks and Spencer for two hundred Euro,” Rachel agreed with Liz, “when I read the newspaper at the weekend they were surveying random women on the street about their style and the average most expensive item is about five hundred Euro. Some of the women were in their early twenties; I don't know where they get the money.”

  “Exactly,” Liz said, “and while we're on the subject, what I'd like to know is where these young girls, who are only in secondary school, get the money for their gorgeous blonde highlights and expensive hairstyles.They have better hair than me and I'm working full-time and I've practically bankrupted myself with the fortune on spend on my hair, between the hairdresser and styling products. I remember when I was in school, my hair was a frizzy mess, but the youngsters today have perfect hair.”

  “I so deserve these shoes,” Rachel felt convinced on her purchase then and there, “I hardly ever get my hair done, so I can look on these shoes as compensation for all my missed hair appointments.

  “Anyway, drinks are on us tonight, so that'll save you some cash,” Jen winked at Rachel. “Thanks, girls,” Rachel smiled at her friends.

  “So, how are things with you two?” Rachel asked as she took a sip of her wine. “It seems like ages since we all met up.”

  “It's been forever,” Jen agreed. “We have a lot of catching up to do.

  “What I'd like to know is where have all the good men gone?” Liz lamented to her friends. “That's a sudden outburst,” Jen said, “are you OK?”

  “I'm just so tired of waiting for The One,” Liz wailed, “where is he already?”

  “You're asking the wrong person here, love,” replied Rachel, as she poured herself another glass of wine. “My love-life is an absolute disaster area.”

  “Tell me about it,” Jen piped up from her comfy position on the couch, “I'm sick and tired of being on the singles scene. I mean, how many first dates can one woman have? I feel like I'm stuck in some sort of never-ending ground-hog day.”

  “Well, at least you have first dates,” Liz interjected, “I can't remember the last time I've been out with a man, first date or otherwise.”

  “The way I see it,” Rachel piped up, “you two are like the opposite extreme ends of the same scale.”

  “Oh really now,” her friends looked at her in amusement, “please do share your insight on us with us.”

  “Well, Liz, you are stuck in a bit of a rut, where you've thrown yourself into your work and all the extra-curricular activities that entails. I sometimes feel like I have to make an appointment to see you. If you're not teaching extra maths classes after school, then you're coaching the girls' basketball team or supervising some student activity weekend. You barely have time to hang out with Jen and me let alone have time to meet a man.”

  “It's true,” Liz sighed in agreement at her friend's analysis. “I love my job, I just can't seem to say no when I'm asked to help out after hours. My last relationship was with another teacher, but that's fizzled out quite a while ago and I haven't met anyone else who even remotely interests me.”

  “So, which end of the scale am I on then?” Jen interrupted, “oh and be gentle, Rachel, please, I'm feeling a little fragile at the moment.”

  “Here missus, have some more wine, it'll numb the pain,” Liz grinned at her friend as she refilled everyone's glass. “Don't mind if I do,” Jen swigged down a large gulp of wine from her glass, “hit me with it, Rachel, I'm in the brace position.”

  “Hmm, Jenna you are the quintessential serial dater.”

  “I am not!” Jenna objected, “I just believe in having a proactive approach to my love life, sometimes a little too proactive, I agree, but it's not like Mr. Love of my Life is going to come knocking on my door, announcing his arrival, and begging me to marry him, now is it?”

  “That's very true,” Rachel agreed, “but you hardly give these guys a chance. How many second dates have you had lately? Not many, as far as I can recall. Surely some of them are worth a second chance. You seem to dismiss them for something as trivial as having the wrong hair colour or too many freckles! How many dating websites are you a member of at the moment? Last time we spoke you were thinking of joining your fourth site! If there's a singles night in town, you're there. If someone offers to set you up on a blind date, you go. I think it's excellent that you are proactive, but I think you need to start giving your dates more than just one chance before you dismiss them as completely wrong for you.”

  “You're right, I know,” Jenna agreed rather reluctantly with her friend. “It's just that if I see something small that irritates me I can't move past it, and because I have so many dates lined up, I think that the next one will be better and couldn't be bothered making an effort with the one in front of me. Hmm, now that I've said that aloud, it sounds quite bad actually...oh dear.”

  “Well, everyone knows my situation,” Rachel said. “It's well and truly finished with Tony. He moved out last weekend. I have to admit, my life feels quite empty without him. The reality of life on my own has started to sink in and it's not as wildly exciting as I thought. Part of me expected it to be like the television show Sex and the City, all glamorous nights out and plenty of dates, every minute of my time occupied but I find myself being bored a lot. I constantly catch myself thinking, “ I must tell Tony this” or “I wonder what Tony would think of that” and then I realise he's gone. I suppose it will take time to adjust to my single life, after all I brought it on myself.”

  “It's completely natural and understandable how you are feeling,” Liz sympathised. “I suppose you are suffering withdrawal symptoms in a way. If you want my opinion, I think you and Anthony did the right thing breaking up, even if it's only temporarily. You've been together since you were teenagers and it'll do you both some good to explore life apart. Of course you're going to miss him, and it'll take a while to get used to life without him. You should look on this as an opportunity to get to know yourself. Find out what you want in life, who you are and what you want in your future. I certainly wouldn't be rushing into finding another man.”

  “Still avidly reading the self-help books, Liz,” Jen interrupted sarcastically, “most of what you've just said is good advice but I think Jen needs to get back out and start dating, nothing serious, but some male attention is always good for the ego, and that's exactly what Rachel needs right now.”

  “I feel a bit lost and quite lonely actually,” Rachel said tearfully.

  “Hey, hey, you're not alone, lovey,” Liz hugged her friend. “You've got me and Jen and we're always available for you, anytime.”

  “Look,” Jen said matter-of-factly, ever the pragmatist, “you need to plan your evenings. Take some classes. Join a gym. The gym is a great place to meet new people. You can come out with me at least once a week and I'm sure it'll be no time at all until you are dating again.”

  “Oh, I dunno,” Rachel said doubtfully, “I think I need a break from men.”

  “I don't want you getting all sad and lonely by yourself,” Liz said. “How's this for an idea; Jen and I will plan your after-work and weekend activities for the next month, after all we're old hands at the singleton life. All you have to do is promise to follow our instruction
s.”

  Rachel perked up at the thought of this. “Hmm, that could be interesting.”

  “Well, it'll be fun anyway,” Liz said, “and I think you could do with a good dose of fun.” “Exactly, and if all else fails, at least we have each other,” Jenna said.

  “Yes, and lots of wine,” Liz agreed, raising her glass, “cheers ladies, to wine and friendship.” “Cheers,” the three girls sang in unison as they clinked their glasses together.

  Chapter 4

  Rachel's heart was pounding in her chest and she was bright purple in the face. She felt like she was on the verge of a massive heart attack. Her entire body was soaked in sweat and her hair was stuck uncomfortably and unattractively to her head. She tried to wipe her face dry on her t-shirt but that too was drenched.

  “The things we women do to look good,” Rachel thought as she angrily punched the treadmill speedometer, increasing the speed another few kilometres. “I feel like I'm dying.”

  It was her first day at the gym in years. She'd joined the gym at college many years before, but had given it up as a bad job after a few sessions. She was determined to stick with it this time. She'd had enough of feeling like a chubby butt and figured since she was spring-cleaning her life, that she might as well spring-clean her body while she was at it. What was it the experts said? Healthy body leads to a healthy mind. She'd spent the morning taking Polaroid photos of herself from different angles, and she'd felt quite disconcerted by the pictures in front of her. Too many wobbly bits and dimples in all the wrong places. She'd stuck the photos on the refrigerator door, and purged the junk food from the fridge and her kitchen cupboards. She'd made a mental note to go shopping for healthy food after her gym session.