This is LA after all

I was in Los Angeles for two days of work. And one day of fun. And it rained. All the time. Which is not a problem because I see a lot of sunshine. It was more a problem for the Angelians, because none of them own an umbrella.
I have two new partners. Both German. Very alarming. They like punctuality. Which I admire.

On Saturday, one of the Germans invited me to his home, to meet his beautiful family, a lovely offer and a break from the barrage of business meetings. But I was also invited to a quiet lunch with close friends and Robbie Williams. 

Hey, this is an LA story so of course there has to be lunch with a rock star in here somewhere. 

Robbie, and his utterly gorgeous wife Ayda, were so entertaining that lunch began  to spill into late afternoon. Before long I explained I needed to leave, in order to be on time for the German. “We’ll drop you” said Robbie “It’s on our way”

Of course breaking up a good Saturday afternoon lunch, tackling the rain and not finding the right street as quickly as we thought all meant I WAS VERY LATE. 

“Don’t worry” said Ayda “Robbie will ring the bell and explain it was all his fault” 

When the German opened the door Robbie Williams was standing on his doorstep “All my fault mate” he said before jogging back down the drive, to his car and Ayda. 

The German didn’t bat an eye lid. This is LA after all. “Come in” he said.
That night I joined the pre-oscar dinner hosted by Chanel and Charles Finch. Stuffed into the basement of Madeo’s you squeeze past Anne Hathaway, chatting to Adrien Brody, whilst nearly knocking over the doll-like Kristin Chenoweth before finding your seat at the table, relived to find a familiar British face near you. Lily Collins. Snow White. Domino will never believe I had dinner with Snow White.

Keen to get home though, I was taking the Red Eye to Miami. The organizers of the evening had been somewhat surprised when I trundled down their small, but very red carpet, with my suitcases in hand, they were even more surprised when I darted out before pudding, hailed a cab in my high heels, diamonds and evening dress and sped off to the airport. 

Struggling out of my party gear into my jeans and sneakers I exited the cab quite a different person to the one who had got in. The driver didn’t bat an eye lid. This is LA after all.

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