date with Jack. She moons around the apartment like a teenager with a serious crush, all professionalism having long since hot-footed it out the door.
Imagine, Julia thinks, hitting it off with Elle and Uma. Elle liking Julia so much she'd invite her over for dinner with a few friends. Just the usual gang, Cindy and Rande, Brad and Jennifer, maybe Ben Affleck for her. Julia envisages walking into restaurants with Uma at her side, everyone stopping to stare as Julia pretends to feel pissed off at the attention.
Oh, for God's sake, Julia, get a grip. She shakes her head but still can't resist tapping out a merry little dance on her way to retrieve Bella's laptop from under the bed. This was the last thing she expected, after all. A few days' break in New York has turned into nearly two weeks, and now she even has work. Will she ever go home?
Because of course there is Mark to consider, and with a start Julia realizes she hasn't thought about him for days. She's been far too busy, she tells herself, checking her watch and ringing the machine at home, knowing he'll be at work on a Thursday, but not wanting to talk to him.
“Hi. It's me. Just checking in to say everything's fine. I'm having a great time and guess what? I've been offered some work so I'm off to film with Elle Macpherson and Uma Thurman next Thursday.” She tries to sound blasé but fails. “Still not sure when I'll be home,” she continues, “but I'll probably be here at least another few weeks. Hope everything's fine, and I'll talk to you soon. Bye.” She puts the phone down and sits staring at it for a while, thinking about Mark, their house in London, the life she flew away from, and she knows she's not missing it.
She has barely thought about it.
Until now. Now she sits thinking about her struggle to get pregnant. About the countless nights she lay with her legs in the air, or filled Mark's pockets with juniper berries, or—and she starts to laugh at the memory of this—performed some ridiculous fertility ritual.
What would happen, she wonders, if she thought of a baby now, because she hasn't thought of babies, or pregnancy, since she's been here. She conjures up a picture in her mind of a gurgling baby, the picture that used to reduce her to furious tears, and she finds that she doesn't feel much at all.
No anger. No pain. No fear. Somehow she knows that having to film babies and baby parties for a week is a final sign from God. He's proving to her that she's okay now. That there are more important things in life than getting pregnant, and that in any case pregnancy wouldn't have been enough to cement her relationship with Mark. Even as she accepts this she knows that there are bigger questions she'll have to answer soon.
Questions about Mark. Her relationship. Her things. Questions about roots. London. Work. But she can't think about that right now.
After all, she has a date to attend to.
At twenty past eight Julia and Bella make their approach to Orsay.
“So the plan is you go in first, then five minutes later I'll come in and go straight to the bar,” Bella gabbles as they wait round the corner. “After twenty minutes I'll meet you in the loo, and take my mobile so if he's horrible I can call you up and tell you it's an emergency and you have to leave.”
“Okay, okay. I'm going in.”
Bella turns Julia until they're face to face, grasps her shoulders and looks at her with the most serious expression she can muster. “You're going to be fine,” she says in a crappy American accent. “Just relax,” she adds somberly. “And good luck.”
Julia laughs. Leans over and kisses her cheek. “Thanks. See you in the loo.”
Bella gives her a thumbs-up and Julia goes in.
The restaurant is packed. Every table full, all the women immaculately groomed and glamorous, the men wealthy and powerful. A crowd of people wait just inside the door for their tables, and the bar is already three deep in beautiful people.
Julia pushes her way through the people at the door and finds a maître d'.
“Excuse me? I'm meeting Jack Roth?”
He checks the book, then nods. “Certainly. If you'd like to follow me.” He leads the way through the restaurant as Julia tries not to feel self-conscious, even though every woman in there looks her up