“Can I call you back on that?” I stifled a yawn.

“No problem, Dana. You can reach me on my direct line…”

The man then reeled off his number so fast I didn’t even bother trying to remember it.

“Great.” 

“Ok, then! It’s been a pleasure talking with you, Dana. Goodbye, now!”

 “Bye!” I said, replicating his sugar-drenched tone. God, what a jerk.

Lara was already half-way out the door when I dragged my ass out of bed, but I did get a lingering kiss before she left. With all distractions out of the way I dawdled over breakfast and my shower for as long as possible but soon I was sitting with my thoughts with nowhere to be for three hours.

Inevitably I began thinking of Alice. Shane was right, whatever Alice said she did seem to miss me on some level. It made me sad to think of our friendship as it used to be. I missed our banter; the trading of jokey insults, gossiping and just hanging out together doing nothing at all. It was all fun with her and it was only when it was gone I realised just how good it was. Nostalgia for simpler, clear-cut times enveloped me. Shit… What harm could one phone call do anyway?  I dialled Alice’s number and felt my palms grow sweaty as it rang. And rang. And rang. “Hi!” My heart started thumping, then slowed as I realised it was her voicemail:” You’ve reached Alice – I’m not available right now, but please leave your number and I’ll get back to you. Thanks!”  The beep sounded and instinctively I hung up; I just didn’t know what to say. I mean: “Hey, its Dana. I was thinking, can we forget all about the fact I broke your heart? How about lunch at the Planet? Oh, and by the way I’m not sure if I’m still in love with you too…” didn’t really seem like a good idea.

After an hour or so of alternating between daydreaming about Alice and feeling like the worst girlfriend in the world I got so depressed I decided to make myself feel even worse by agreeing to do the stupid awards ceremony. Well, they had asked me – even if I was probably third choice after Capriati and Mauresmo. I *69ed the number and left a message on the endearing Mr. Wilson’s cell confirming I would be there. Maybe Lara would come along too. It might not be so bad.