Weren’t
we supposed to be spending some quality time together today? He was going to
spoil me rotten, shopping, lunch, dinner, cocktails, the works.
Hmmm
… someone’s writing on my mental wall, and I don’t mean Facebook.
Deciding
I’ve done enough thinking for now I climb in from the balcony and shuffle to
the bathroom.
I
catch a glimpse of my hung-over face in the mirror. Yikes! This will take more than five minutes to
rectify. I set about the task armed with a big cosmetics bag. Twenty minutes
later and … voilà,
nearly respectable. That reminds me: must buy more Touche Éclat, the forgiver of all sins.
Café Brik,
which transformed into a chic bistro about two and half years ago, is a
creative, arty hangout. It’s a small compact place on Berwick Street in Soho.
They’ve extended out the back with a cool glass structure and landscaped the
chill-out garden for all the writers, actors, and people from TV land who
frequent with their laptops and hold their informal meetings looking as though
they have the most urgent of the world’s business at hand.
As
stressed and unsocial as the hospitality world gets sometimes, I enjoy myself
here.
While
I walk up towards the café, I come to the decision that Piers doesn’t
prioritise me so why should I him? I need to do something, something away from
my everyday, but what?
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Nina-Whyle/e/B005JKC0SQ/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
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