Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gabi
Gabi shimmied in the mirror. Her little black dress sparkled and clung in all the right places.
Her short, inky hair was extra sleek, and her big brown eyes were dark-rimmed with liner.
She looked good enough for a red carpet – which was the last place she’d worn this ensemble – at the Oscars for a film.
The only difference this time was instead of wearing death-defying heels, she was sporting one sequinned silver Birkenstock on her good foot, and a protective boot on the other.
She’d show Walker McBride what he was missing.
First of all, he hadn’t rung or texted after their night together.
Not that she’d been watching her phone or anything; he wasn’t her boyfriend after all.
But he hadn’t even dropped her a message to say he hoped he hadn’t snored during their late-night call.
Because he had, actually. Even if they were very little snores like a dog in front of the fire.
Kind of cosy and cute. But anyway. Not only had he not messaged, but he’d pretty much blanked her at the gym.
How dare he brush her off like that? What had she done to him apart from probably give him the best sex of his life and then ring him to make sure he was okay?
He literally didn’t have a word to say to her when she’d run into him, and she’d stumbled off feeling like she was the last person he wanted to see.
When she’d been so looking forward to it and still hoped they would be hooking up again.
She believed that he’d felt the connection as much as she had, the electricity that shot through her every time he touched her.
But maybe he’d enjoyed his night and that was that.
What did she care anyway? She’d be out of this tiny town soon and back to real life.
She had a call scheduled with her agent in the morning.
Hopefully good news about the next role.
She tilted her chin at her reflection, grabbed her bag and headed out to where Amber waited in the hall.
‘Holy shit, Gabi,’ Amber said, licking her finger and hissing when she pressed it to Gabi’s arm. ‘You look smoking.’
‘You too.’ Gabi nodded appreciatively at the low-cut, long gold dress Amber was nearly wearing. ‘Let’s go and have some fun.’
Jayden waved from his seat on the sofa with babysitter Millie Malone, and they were off.
The town hall was a pretty building from the outside, stone built, and ivy clad. Internally, it was all tiled floors and wood panelling. The women left their coats at the cloakroom and headed in to find a drink.
The great and the good of Honeybridge were stacked three deep at the bar wearing sequins and suits.
The air was thick with aftershave and the noise levels were high with excitement.
Amber spotted a gap and slotted in, quickly reappearing with a bottle of Prosecco and two flutes.
Gabi meanwhile had snagged a high, round table with two stools and they settled in.
‘So, you trying to get the attention of anyone in particular?’ Amber asked with a wink.
‘Nope. Like I said, I think that’s done,’ Gabi lied with a smile. ‘You?’
Amber laughed. ‘Well, Alex’s band is playing later . . .’
Gabi pulled a face. ‘Poor Alex, I almost felt sorry for him the other day. You laying down your ground rules.’
Amber’s smile dropped as she sighed.
‘I can’t have him thinking there’s any hope for a future. We might be having fun but there’s no way I’m letting him near Jayden again.’
Gabi remembered the secret sign between Jayden and Alex in the kitchen and wished she could remember exactly what they’d done. They’d looked happy to see each other, but she couldn’t remember the movement to show Amber.
‘So how much fun are you two having?’ Gabi asked.
‘Well, my afternoon break from Tutto Mio has never been so well put to use.’ Amber smacked her lips together.
‘I really am putting my feet up for half an hour!’ Gabi laughed outright, just as the gang walked across the hall towards them.
For a woman who had worked on film sets her whole life, Gabi had to admit they were a beautiful bunch.
Isabella looked ravishing in red on Etienne’s arm.
Rosie and Wren both wore white trouser suits with heels.
Fox’s silver quiff set off his all-black suit.
And then there was Walker, wearing a kilt and looking utterly gorgeous.
Even his knees were sexy. Shit. That was the last thing she needed.
Walker made his way around the group, kissing the women’s cheeks and clapping the men on the back.
He avoided eye contact when he reached Gabi; the kiss he pressed to her cheek was paper dry and light as a feather.
The kind of kiss you might give your great-aunt, if she smelled of kippers and had a moustache.
Even so, the smell of him was like a reminder of their night in her bedroom.
She had to force herself to keep her hands in her lap and not grab him by the lapels.
It was over in a heartbeat and then Walker quickly moved to the other side of the table, immersing himself in conversation with Fox.
Gabi poured herself another drink and tried to ignore how her body reacted to him. Even when she hated him.