"So, let me get this straight…" Lily says with that expression which lets me know she thinks I'm a muppet. "You're still hopping mad at him, but you told him all was well."

"What was I going to do, stand there and lay into him in the middle of the office? Bet they would have loved that piece of gossip downstairs, disgruntled secretary rips shreds out of pop star."

"Well, yeah, but doesn't it seem a little two faced to you? Acting like you've forgiven him when actually you still think he's a wanker?"

"I thought it was rather mature, personally," I shrug. "Putting my personal feelings aside for the benefit of a harmonious office and not screwing up this deal Elena wants to get."

"Hmm."

That's the noise Lily makes when she knows somebody has a point but she's still not entirely convinced. That's fine by me, since I don't need her approval to justify myself. I can't say I particularly enjoyed the fact that I had to capitulate so easily just because he fluttered his eyelashes, but in grown up land sometimes you have to swallow your loathing and just get along with people. Maybe Justin is fool enough to think that a little smile and sweet talk is enough to gloss over that supreme piece of idiocy on his part, but I am not fool enough to make a scene with a hugely influential potential client. No matter how much of a poop head I think he is.

"Don't 'hmm' me," I tell her. "Or if you have to, do it while getting this zip please?"

Lily raises herself off my bed and I can see her wryly smiling at me through the mirror as she stands behind me and tugs at this incredibly stiff zip. Eventually they managed to find me some couture that I didn't deem too unbelievably slutty and so I am dressed in a lemon yellow shift dress with this cool little sash of white flowers strapped across it. Lily told me I had better appreciate wearing it since she spent no less than three days strategically gluing Swarovski crystals to said flowers. I promised her that so long as this very form fitting dress allows me enough oxygen intake to power anything beyond basic motor functions, I shall most surely do so. If I'm not too busy enduring the slow murder of my feet via a pair of very lovely Elena Suarez sandals. I miss flip flops.

"So how lame do you think this party's going to be anyway?" I ask.

"Well, for guests I think it's going to be great. For us working plebs I think it's going to be the seventh circle of hell. I don't understand why we have to go around serving people when they have caterers, unless they just want us to get people hammered so they'll agree to whatever Elena asks and then can't take it back when they're sober."

"I still think we should have tripped Ben and Rosie on the stairs this morning," I respond. "Then we could be handling the guest list and have our job over and done with by nine."

She gives me a playful arch of her eyebrow in the mirror. Lily pulls the best faces sometimes; I have some absolutely priceless shots of her from various nights out. "There's still time…"

Lily is one of those people who is unbelievably stunning when she dresses up. She's got quite unusual features, all very delicate and chiselled, and her hair colour makes her stand out. She's like some little elfin fairy, and tonight she's in a diaphanous earthy green chiffon number that make her look positively ethereal. She was supposed to buy her own outfit rather than borrow one, but since she saved Alex's arse (very bad mishap with him forgetting to book a courier and nearly missing a chance to dress Emily Blunt for a premiere) he owed her. Of course it wasn't a complete freebie since instead of borrowing a pair of Elena's shoes she splashed out on some Choos.

Sometimes I have more fun getting ready for nights out than when I actually get there. I think it's the anticipation and fun of watching yourself turn from unkempt and just showered into some glamorous goddess. Well, maybe not goddess, but somebody a little different from your everyday self. Lily curled my hair and put it into a messy up do for me, and I spent an age making little tiny plaits in her hair so that she could pin them up and make patterns in her bun with them. Oops, I'm in America now, I'm supposed to say braids not plaids. We helped with each other's make up (I'm the master of eye shadow and liner, but she can make any amount of blemishes disappear while giving you what looks like a naturally rosy complexion) and giggled and ate chocolate while we were getting ready. I love being a girl.

"But…" She says as she keeps tugging (I swear the dress does fit, it really is the world's stiffest zipper and even Alex said so), "what are you planning to do if Justin comes over to you?"

"Avoid him while trying to make it look subtle," I tell her with a shrug. "If not, I'll just play it polite but not overfriendly. I'm not going to sit there and pretend to be his best mate, I just don't want to be a bitch and screw anything up for the company."

"I guess that's probably wise," she finally concedes. "You can't exactly make a scene even if you are royally pissed at him."

"Exactly." At least she finally gets it. "I'm not going to be kissing up to him or pretending like nothing happened, I'm just going to try and be adult about it and get along with him instead of making it an issue."

"True. And who knows, maybe if you play at it long enough eventually it'll be true."

I caught that sneaky expression on her face; she forgets I can see her in the mirror even if she is behind me.

"Hah! The bitch is beaten!" She says as finally the damn zip makes it to the top of the dress.

"And just in the nick of time," I say as the door bell goes. Since I live in Lily's land of the rich there's an intercom in every room instead of just by the door. That works well since I'm so lazy, I just have to reach over and press the button. "Hello?"

"It's me gorgeous, can I come in?"

Alex calls both of us the same pet name and then swears to each of us that really we're the only one of the two he's sincere about. We just tell him he's full of shit. Without another word I just push for the door and start looking around the room for where I threw the shoes. I'm trying to keep them off my feet for as long as possible, a pitiful attempt to prolong the unavoidable. Really I shouldn't be tossing five hundred dollar shoes around the room so lightly, but who's going to know?

"Oh, where the bloody hell did I put my Gucci?" Lily starts moaning. Why she thinks her bag will be under my pillows I'm not sure, but she tosses them on the floor to peer behind them.

She's like a little old lady with her glasses, she puts things down without thinking and three seconds later she can't remember where it is. Except that since her things tend to be designer and a hell of a lot more expensive than little old lady glasses, it's kind of careless. Still, I long for the day when I can afford such expense so easily that I can be careless with it! If I'd realised my little summer fling was so rich at the time maybe I could have got some bling out of it. Well, at least a couple more drinks; I still feel kind of silly for insisting on picking up the bar tab so much. Clearly a few rounds of vodka and Diet Coke weren't going to do his purse strings much harm.

It's funny how coming to LA has made me so much more aware of money. Part of that is because I'm working at an international business aiming at the wealthier end of the market, but mainly it's because certain sections of this town are so obsessed with it. It's like they can't put down their Blackberry or Sidekick, ever. I think they'd take surgical removal. If I wasn't afraid of them ruining my island by making it the latest 'must go' hot spot and turning it into some trashy tourist place over night, I'd tell them to all go to Adora and learn how to relax. Alex's explanation for why he hasn't had a girlfriend in months is that every time he goes out he winds up dealing with some out of hours emergency. How sad is that?

It's contagious, too. Lily has been trying to nicely find a way to tell me I've become more uptight since I got here, and to be honest she's not wrong. I'm not a mean bitch who's just a bitch; I'm a stress head bitch who's too harried to keep a mental watch on what's about to come out of my mouth. I always regret it once it's happened and I always try to make up for it, but prevention's better than cure so they say. We've agreed that we're going to abuse my power over the vacation booking process to make sure we can both take our days at the same time, and we're going to go to one of her dad's many holiday homes. We nixed Adora since we don't want our girly holiday mixed in with my homecoming, that's unfair to Lily if it's all about me, but we're still thinking along the same hot and laid back lines. I can't wait. I like me more when I'm relaxed.

"Hello lovely ladies!"

Apparently my aimless staring in the mirror has given Lily enough time to go away, find her bag and usher Alex in.

"See, what did I tell you?" He gives me a continental style kiss on both cheek and then takes my hands so he can hold them away from my body and critique The Dress. "It's perfect for your colouring. I told Jake it'd look better on you than Stella."

"He wanted to put it on Stella?"

Lily snorts derisively - not at Stella, but at Jake's idiocy. Stella is a blonde bombshell with serious curves on her; modern clothing does not cater to her body shape (which is why she says her wardrobe lives in the forties). This dress would cut her to shreds if she could even get into it and the yellow would not be good with her skin tone. I am what many people would call too skinny (except the weirdos in this town who think near starvation is a good look), but Stella is the only person who has ever managed to nicely bitch about the fashion industry only catering to girls my size without inadvertently insulting me or saying girls with my body type look ill. I'm skinny, okay, I'd love to fill out a corset the way Stella does but it won't happen and it's not because my piggy self doesn't eat. I have wanted to slap a few bitches in the office who call Stella fat though - having an hourglass does not make you fat. She's only one size bigger than me, but then the fashion industry is not known for realistic body image. Another reason I feel this city is too weird for me sometimes.

"I know." Alex rolls his eyes. "Thank God you arrived Lil, you seem to be the only person other than me who knows how to dress her. The silver was a stroke of genius, when I left it was like Marilyn was back in the room. You ladies may be eclipsed."

"I wouldn't care if you could find me flatter shoes," I say hopefully. My only response is a 'you should be so lucky' kind of huff through his nose. It's not attractive.

"Oh, before I forget… I have assignments for you ladies."

"Assignments?" Lily asks quizzically.

"Yes. You think we dressed you in couture just so you can act like glorified waitresses? We have some people for you to schmooze, gorgeous."

"Oh fun, my favourite." Lily's displeased expression doesn't adequately reflect the depth of hatred she has for schmoozing. People do it to her all the time to try and get to her dad and it's left a sour taste in her mouth. She'll do it if she has to, she's not stupid and she knows sometimes it pays, but once she gets behind closed doors she complains loudly. Lucky me, I guess 'behind closed doors' this evening will be back here at home where I'm her only audience.

"Who are the lucky punters tonight?" I try to sound at least slightly more enthused, but Lily has set such an incredibly low standard that it's not difficult. "I assume Antonio and the España gang are here for me to entertain?"

"Lil, you and I will be charming the pants off Eliza Jenson and David Green, chief buyers for Selfridge's who are over from London…"

"Eliza loves Mum, that shouldn't be too hard," Lily shrugs, looking relieved to have any kind of head start.

"And Miss Addy has correctly guess that she will be looking after the Spanish contingent and also Justin Timberlake and Trace Ayala for William Rast."

I could kill Lily for how amused she looks. She's clearly struggling to contain loud, cackling laughter. "Why William Rast?" I ask with as much nonchalance as I can muster. "Those guys speak English, right, I thought I was on translation duties only tonight."

"Apparently somebody mentioned to Elena that you'd dealt with them when they came into the office, she wants a familiar face to look after them. I don't need to tell you that they're VIP tonight and you better be prepared to kiss some serious ass."

Hmm. Now is probably not the time to mention that Justin Timberlake is familiar with far more of my body parts than just my face.

"Who told her that?" Lily does some prying so that it doesn't look like I'm desperately worried. I am desperately worried, but Alex never needs to know that. He'd only ask why and like I said, now is not the time. "They were only there for about five seconds."

"Nancy mentioned it."

That witch - she was pissed about the whole un-booked meeting thing and exacted her revenge by sticking me with VIPs as well as having to run around with the Spanish speakers. I'm now landed with double duty. It's a good thing she doesn't know I'm irked with the pop star or she'd have taken extra pleasure in screwing me over. I am so going to find a reason to have her expenses queried and thus held up for a month while the accountants go over them.

"Well I'll do my best." I sounded kind of defeated when I said that.

"Good job I put you in that dress, I'm sure they'll enjoy the view."

Alex earned himself a tag team smacking with the clutch bags for that remark. I got a little more force behind mine because Lily is kind of unsteady on her shoes. They're a little high even for her; good job we're so early, she'll have time before the guests get there to practice walking in them. It won't do for the guests to think she was drunk before the event even started. They might be, but she's not allowed.

"Bloody effing hell," Lily says as he answers his Blackberry - presumably the driver wanting to hurry us along. "Put you in a right old mess hasn't she?"

"No matter, I will find a way to make her rue the day."

"You'll beat the bitch," she advises me solemnly.

"Well I am English." I salute her back.

This is our mantra for dealing with the weirdness we find in this town - both the good and the ugly. We are English. Our grandfathers beat the Nazis away from our shores; we can deal with one stupid event for work.

Never mind looking drunk before we start, I wish I was drunk before we start.