Читать книгу Cupcakes at Carrington’s - Alexandra Brown, Lindsey Kelk - Страница 13

After paying the taxi driver, we pass through a red rope that’s unclipped by a doorman who looks as if he’s just stepped out of a Calvin Klein photo shoot, and emerge into the club. I feel as though I’ve walked into a Moroccan wonderland – there are orange and gold glittery soft furnishings draped between mosaic fountains. There are even olive trees dotted in amongst the leather ottomans. We’re both handed one of those cute mini Moët bottles with the drinking spouts. Complimentary to the first fifty clubbers as it’s opening night.

‘Mmm, I must say the view is scorching in here,’ Sam says, lifting my hair to talk straight into my ear. The pulse of the uplifting Happy House beat thuds against my chest. Everywhere I look there are male models, smiling when they catch my eye, as if telepathically telling me I’m their dream woman. Whoever’s come up with this marketing idea must be a genius, because it’s working. Oh yes, it’s working all right. I can almost feel a physical tingle of hedonism on my bare shoulders. Scrutinising the drinking spout more closely, I see that it has Bushka Launch Party inscribed in rose-gold lettering on the side. Nudging Sam, I raise an eyebrow and she nods back. Simultaneously we both whip the little spouts off and stash them in our bags.

Sam yells, ‘Over here,’ before waving wildly. With her left hand above her head, her dress rides up and briefly flashes the side of her diamanté-topped stocking. A group of guys standing nearby nudge each other with appreciation. I glance in the direction of her yell, and striding towards us is a group of men. All of them are stunning, and a tall, athletic and seriously handsome blond one, who I guess must be Nathan, is carrying a giant heart-shaped helium balloon. He steps towards Sam, grabs her up in the air and spins her around.

‘So how is the sexy birthday girl?’

Sam screams with delight, trying to keep the back of her dress from riding up too high. The pair of them lock lips. ‘Ahh, and here are the others,’ Nathan says, prising himself away from Sam. ‘You don’t mind, do you, only I invited some guys from the squash club.’

Looking to where Nathan’s waving, I see a couple of tall men coming towards us. For a moment I don’t believe it. I blink again to be sure, and yes, it’s definitely him. Tom is heading straight towards us. My heart races. He looks even more incredible than he did in the staff canteen. I see a couple of girls eyeing him up and down as he strides past, but before I can get myself together he’s standing right in front of me.

‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’ Tom says, fixing his chocolate-brown eyes on mine as I fidget nervously from one foot to the other.

‘Oh I’m not sure,’ I reply in a breezy voice, wondering if he can tell that the memory of him appearing through the canteen doors has made its way into my dreams several times already this week. Only in the dream he’s naked, drenched in massage oil accentuating a rock-hard muscular chest, and begging to take me there and then across the help-yourself salad bar. Naturally the canteen of my dreams is festooned with tea lights creating a sexy shimmery glow. And I look like a siren with really big hair.

‘Yes, I’m definitely sure. I know I’ve seen you somewhere before. Where do you work?’ he says, seemingly oblivious to the effect he’s having on me.

‘At Carrington’s. And you?’ I reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

‘That’s it.’ He looks pleased with himself at having worked it out. ‘I was there for the announcement. Must have seen you then.’ He beams a beautiful smile and my heart immediately melts. The feeling is incredible.

‘Of course. Silly me, I didn’t recognise you,’ I say nervously, twiddling the silver stud in my right earlobe and feeling my neck tingling with the first creep of a flush from the blatant lie.

‘Nice to meet you, again.’ Still smiling, he puts his hand out to mine and the sensation is like an electric charge as his warm fingers touch mine. He leans down to my hot cheek and plants a kiss. Momentarily distracted by the faint but delicious chocolatey scent of his aftershave, I giggle in a way that I haven’t since I was about five years old and instantly regret it. I’m conscious that Sam and Nathan are looking at us.

‘Do you two know each other?’ Sam asks, but before either of us can answer, Nathan butts in.

‘See you in a sec, honey.’ He makes off in search of the loo, accidentally bumping into Tom who quickly sidesteps and ends up standing adjacent to me.

‘Err, no not really. Sam, this is Tom,’ I say. Sam’s face goes all airy as she cottons on immediately. I make big warning eyes at her not to let on that I’ve mentioned him and luckily our telepathic powers connect in an instant.

‘Oh, how lovely to meet you.’ She extends her hand without so much as a glimmer of knowing.

‘Shall I get some drinks while you two find seats?’ Tom offers, sounding like the perfect gentleman.

‘Thank you,’ I say. And without hesitation, Sam and I nod at each other before heading off.

‘Ohmigod Georgie, he’s hot, hot and more hot.’ Sam clutches my arm. ‘Bloody hell, I can see what you mean,’ she squeals, performing a little skip the minute Tom is out of earshot. ‘He looks like he’s just stepped out of a Hollywood movie.’

‘I know, but I can’t believe it. Why didn’t you tell me Nathan knew him?’

‘I didn’t know. I’ve not heard him mention him before, but I can get the lowdown on him now,’ Sam says, triumphantly.

‘No! Yes! Oh I don’t know. He’s way out of my league.’

‘No he’s not. Yes he’s bloody gorgeous, but no man is out of your league, do you hear me?’ Sam hisses, pretending to be cross.

‘I hear you. But be discreet. Just find out if he’s attached … a girl can dream after all, can’t she?’

Finding a Moroccan mini-sofa thing, Sam sits and I carefully perform a small Houdini contortion act to get down low enough to sit next to her. As I wriggle around trying to get comfortable, the miracle suit presses on my bladder, so I have no option but to haul myself into a standing position to go in search of the Ladies.

‘Where are you off to? They’re going to be back soon.’ Sam clutches my arm.

‘Sam, it’s no good, I’m busting for the loo,’ I groan.

‘I’ll come with you, I could do with a lippy touch-up,’ she replies, even though her cerise gloss is still immaculate. ‘Let’s wait for them and then we’ll go.’ She smiles.

‘I’m not sure I can.’ Wincing, I lean forward and put the bottle down on a low table. Sam has the same idea and leans over too. The sudden shift in the weight on the cushion propels me forward and I’m launched mercilessly onto the little dance floor. The drink flies out of my hand, shoots up and splatters all over my face. I attempt to get up but just can’t bend enough. The floor is really slippery so I end up writhing around like an amateur contortionist. I try again to scrabble up onto my feet.

Sam meanwhile has managed to get up and is now bent over in hysterics as she tries to pull me up. Her laughter is infectious, which just makes it worse as I beg her to stop. Within seconds, one of the models appears. He’s towering over me with a look of utter disgust on his pinched face.

‘Would you like some assistance?’ he drawls in an effeminate Aussie voice that completely belies his physical appearance. Feeling mortified, I shoo him away and manage to control myself a bit, but then start panicking. Tom is going to come back any second.

‘This is all your fault, plying me with cocktails. Get me up before I pee all over the place,’ I bellow over the music in Sam’s direction. I reach up to grab Sam’s hand and instantly feel like dying. Tom is standing right behind her. A quizzical grin smoulders across his chiselled face, and tucked in the crook of his beautiful elbow is an ice bucket. Four glasses are clutched in his left hand, and I wish I could just crawl away and evaporate somewhere quietly. It’s Nathan who moves forward from behind Tom, Sam, and the small crowd that’s now gathered around me. Bending down he scoops me up into a fireman’s lift over his shoulder and carries me over to the Ladies. I can see everybody staring and I feel hot with embarrassment.

‘There you go.’ Nathan lets me down.

‘Oh my God. Are you OK?’ Sam says. Her face is covered in concern as she elbows her way through from behind Nathan’s broad back. We push through the chrome door into the Ladies. ‘What’s that on your back?’ Sam asks worriedly, as she spins me around to inspect the bulge.

‘The bloody suit; the poppers have ripped off.’

‘Thank God it’s only that,’ she breathes. ‘For a moment I thought you’d broken something or an organ had popped out even,’ she says, dramatically. ‘Here.’ She rifles in her gold clutch and pulls out a massive safety pin. ‘For emergency purposes. It’ll have to do,’ she adds, after I look back at her with horror. Quickly realising that she’s right, I rush into a cubicle and sort myself out.

Back out by the washbasins, I survey the damage. Mostly superficial, fortunately, despite my impromptu shimmy across the dance floor. With a wet hand towel, I dab the mascara lines away and then reapply some face powder, carefully blending as I go. Another coat of mascara and fresh lipstick and I’m ready. I take a deep breath, push my hair behind my ears and turn to Sam.

‘Come here,’ she says kindly, and I step forward. She puts her arms around me. ‘Will you be OK?’

‘I think so. Did you see the look on his face?’ I reply, cringing at the memory.

‘Yes, but you just hold your head up high and work it, baby. He’s reeeem,’ she says in her TOWIE accent to make me smile. ‘Go grab him.’

‘Hardly, after that pantomime performance.’

‘Oh so what.’ Sam shakes her hair back. ‘Men love a girl with a sense of humour, so just laugh it off. You look a billion dollars.’

‘Thanks, Sam. You’re a true friend, do you know that?’ I say, perking up and giving her a quick hug.

‘Well, I do my best. When I haven’t got my foot in my mouth of course,’ she grins, and then adds, ‘Georgie, look I’m really sorry about the other day, your dad and all. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

‘I know you didn’t,’ I say, patting her arm. ‘It’s forgotten,’ I finish, magnanimously, glad that we’ve cleared the air.

‘Actually, I was wondering …’ She peers at me.

‘What is it?’

‘Err, I just wondered whether you’d spoken to him recently?’ she adds, nervously. I hesitate for a second.

‘Strange you should ask, because I slipped up and answered the phone …’ I reply, feeling uncomfortable. Sam gives me a look as though she’s unsure whether to say anything else. ‘Tell me?’ I prompt.

‘Oh nothing, I …’

‘Come on, please just say it.’

‘If you’re sure?’ she says warily.

‘Yes I’m sure. Now will you please just get on with it?’ I smile encouragingly.

‘Well, I was just thinking that it’s such a shame that you two can’t sort things out. Alfie means the world to me, he’s all I have, and I couldn’t bear it if he and I fell out,’ she says, sounding panicky. She looks away.

‘It’s OK, you’ve got me too, and Nathan … he seems really smitten, maybe he really is your “one”,’ I say, gently touching her arm, knowing how upset she gets about the prospect of being all alone. She looks back and manages a little smile.

‘But what if something happened to your dad? And you hadn’t resolved this? He made mistakes, I know, and you helped him out, there’s no denying that, but do you really want to punish him forever?’ I ponder on what she’s said, and for a moment I waver – maybe she has a point.

‘But it’s not that simple,’ I tell her.

‘What do you mean?’ Sam’s eyes widen.

‘What do you think it did to Mum? She was devastated. It was the stress of it all that made the multiple sclerosis develop so rapidly and cause complications. That’s why she died prematurely and I ended up in care …’ I say, in a wobbly voice, an image of Mum in the hospital bed flashing inside my head. Sam steps forward and gives me another hug.

‘Georgie I’m sorry. I didn’t realise that you still felt that way.’ She gives me a weak smile.

‘It’s OK. That’s just the way it is,’ I say, putting on a brave face to cover the hollow feeling inside.

‘But it doesn’t have to be. You could forgive him and set yourself free from hating him. It wasn’t your dad’s fault she died.’

‘Maybe.’ Silence follows. ‘Anyway, let’s go and enjoy ourselves,’ I say quickly, with a half-smile, desperate to shift the conversational focus.

‘OK, but if you want to talk about it, I’m here.’ Sam gives my arm a little squeeze and turns to leave. I take a big deep breath, bracing myself to face Tom again.

Nathan and Tom are sitting at the bar. They’ve already polished off half the bottle of wine. Nathan leaps down from his stool.

‘Here you are, lovely lady. Saving it especially for you,’ he says to Sam, and she bounces up, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Tom pulls out another stool for me. My tummy flips. I sit down and cross my legs and promptly let out a little yelp. The safety pin must have popped open.

‘Hey, are you OK?’ Tom leaps off his stool and places a hand on my arm. His face is full of concern.

‘Yes, yes I’m fine,’ I manage to squeak, wincing with agony. I quickly uncross my legs and let out a discreet sigh of relief.

‘That was quite some floor show,’ he says, sitting back down and leaning towards me. I grin in an attempt to hide my embarrassment.

‘Well, I aim to please,’ I say, remembering Sam’s advice to laugh it off. His presence, so close to me, is totally intoxicating, and I’m aware that I feel tingly all over.

‘So how long have you been working at Carrington’s?’ he asks, thoughtfully changing the subject. I take a sip of the cold wine and let the taste linger in my mouth. Waiting for me to answer, he smiles attentively – his impeccable manners are very appealing, I must say.

‘Since school.’ I swallow, relieved that we’re talking about something else now. ‘I started doing Saturdays and now I work full time in Women’s Accessories and sometimes deputise for James. He’s the floor supervisor and is also in charge of Men’s Accessories and Sportswear.’

‘For now.’ Tom says the words quietly, but I know I’m not mistaken. He takes a large swig of his drink and looks away.

‘What do you mean?’ I say, a little too quickly.

‘Nothing. Look, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.’ He looks a bit panicky as his eyes drop downwards.

‘No, come on. You can’t say something like that and then not expand,’ I say, wanting to know what he knows. I shove my bag down on the bar, cringing at the slapping noise it makes. I don’t want him thinking I’m hysterical.

‘It’s nothing, honestly,’ he replies, not giving anything away. His mobile flashes on the bar, signifying the arrival of a text. ‘Sorry,’ he says, tapping out a reply. Irritated by the break in conversation I fiddle with the sequins on my bag, wanting to get back to his comment. If it meant what I think it does, then I have to warn James – at least then he can find another job before he’s pushed out. He places the phone back on the bar.

‘Anyway, no wriggling out of it,’ I say, trying to sound light-hearted. ‘Come on. Tell me what you meant by that comment. What do you know?’ Tom scans my face, and for a second his overwhelming beauty distracts me, but I manage to hold the stare, trying not to let his charm get the better of me.

‘You’re not going to let it go, are you?’ he says, a flash of concern on his face.

‘No. Not when it comes to my friends.’

‘OK. I’m sorry, it was insensitive of me, but seeing as it’s you,’ he starts, momentarily making me feel like I’m the only woman in the world, but then I spot a glimmer of something in his eyes before he looks away … like embarrassment, or shame almost, that he’s resorted to schmooze. He clears his throat before continuing. ‘What I meant was that we don’t know what’s going to happen now that Maxine’s arrived. Obviously there’re going to be changes and people might move around. That’s all I meant.’

‘So how come you just started working at Carrington’s then? I mean, it seems odd to have someone joining on the same day a consultant is brought in to help us fend off a terminal decline?’ I say, almost thinking aloud – surely he must have done some homework before his interview. Anyone could find out that Carrington’s is struggling.

‘Fair point.’ He nods. ‘I was headhunted,’ he says, slowly.

‘What for exactly?’ I’m conscious that I’m now practically interrogating him, but I have to find out more.

‘Weell,’ he starts slowly, as though he’s buying time to make it up as he goes along. ‘Look, please don’t take this the wrong way,’ he eventually adds, tracing his finger around the rim of a glass. ‘I was recruited a month ago by Walter to sell jewellery.’ His mobile flashes again and he’s saved from saying any more.

‘Sorry,’ he mouths, taking the call and heading towards the Gents, leaving me puzzled. My mind races through the options. Why would Walter have brought Tom in? And why did Tom imply that James’s job isn’t safe? What does he know?

I decide to call it a night and grab my bag from the bar. I don’t fancy sitting here while Tom shows more interest in his phone than talking to me. After making my excuses to Sam, I go in search of a taxi to take me home. I need some time alone to think this all through.