CHAPTER SEVEN #2
Wynter swallows hard. “I . . . I brought the things for Anika’s room.”
I glance at the bags like they offend me on sight. “Right. The tat you bought yesterday.” I look back at Anika. “It’s all going back so don’t get attached.”
“Ray,” Anika warns.
But I’m already done. I pick up the breakfast tray and move past Wynter without looking at her again.
“Try not to embarrass yourself today,” I say as I brush by.
WYNTER
“Sit down and tell me everything,” Anika demands.
“I’d really rather not,” I mumble, sinking into the chair beside her bed. It’s my day off, but after missing our chats yesterday, I needed to come in and see her. “I’m still mortified.”
Anika grins. “Then you absolutely have to tell me. Remember, I’m living my life through you now, so don’t leave out a single detail.”
I groan and drop my face into my hands.
“Where do I even start? The wildly inappropriate text messages I sent to Ray? The bucketload of Champagne I drank at his expense because I was annoyed? The position he found me in at the casino? Or the fact I threw up all over a roulette table?”
Anika bursts into laughter.
I peek at her through my fingers. “I haven’t drunk in ages.”
“Oh my god,” she gasps between laughs. “You’ve just made my whole day and it’s barely begun. Start with why you were annoyed.”
I straighten and cross my arms. “Because Ray paid Holly to take me out.”
Anika’s smile softens. “That does sound like him.”
“It was humiliating,” I say. “I thought we were just hanging out, having a nice day, and then she casually tells me Ray asked her to take me for lunch and cocktails like I’m some sort of lonely charity case.”
Her brows lift. “You did tell him you didn’t have friends here.”
“That does not mean I wanted him to hire me a fake friend for the day.”
Anika winces, though she’s still amused. “Okay, fair.”
I sigh. “And the worst part is . . . I think he meant well, which somehow makes it even more annoying.”
“His heart was probably in the right place.”
I snort. “The jury’s still out on that.”
Anika grins again, eyes sparkling now. “Forget his heart. Tell me about the vomit.”
I groan so loudly she laughs before I’ve even started.
“I couldn’t find the bathroom,” I say, already cringing. “Ray had just humiliated me over the whole booth disaster, I was panicking, my stomach was turning, and I was trying to run in the right direction when I tripped.”
Anika is already laughing again.
“So, naturally,” I continue, “I grabbed the nearest thing to steady myself.”
“The roulette table,” she says, sounding delighted.
“The roulette table,” I confirm miserably. “And then I threw up all over it. In front of the croupier. And two women. And half the casino.”
Anika gulps air between wheezing as amused tears slip down her cheeks.
I lean closer, wiping them with a tissue. “I’m glad my public downfall is so entertaining for you.”
“It really, really is,” she says, sniffling, “Oh my god. Ray’s precious casino.”
I slump back in the chair. “I’m never going downstairs again. In fact, I might never leave my room.”
She laughs harder. “Please don’t say that. I need more stories like this in my life.”
I point at her. “You’re evil.”
“No,” she says, still grinning, “I’m bored. There’s a difference.”
That makes me laugh, even though my cheeks are still burning.
Then her smile softens. “Did he really embarrass you that badly?”
The humour drains out of me a little. I look down at my hands. “Yeah.”
Anika goes quiet.
“He thought I was . . . I don’t know. All over some guy in a booth.” I shrug, trying to make it sound smaller than it felt. “I tried to explain, but he was already angry.”
“And then this morning?” she asks carefully.
I force a little smile that doesn’t feel real. “And then this morning he made sure I knew exactly what he thinks of me.”
Anika’s expression tightens, “You over-heard us talking?”
“Please don’t say anything to him. I just want to forget it ever happened.”
“Fine,” she says. “But for the record, I think the roulette table incident is iconic.”
Despite everything, I laugh.
My phone buzzes in my hand and I glance at the screen, groaning the second I see the name.
“Hi, Aunt Lucy,” I say, pasting on a bright smile as I answer.
“Finally,” she says. “I’ve been trying to call you for days.”
I wince and slip out into the hallway. “I’m sorry. The job’s been crazy busy.”
“Same old excuses, Wynter.” I can hear the fondness beneath the telling-off. “What are you doing today?”
“It’s my day off,” I say cautiously. “Why?”
“Perfect. We’re in London.”
I stop dead.
“What?”
“Me and your dad,” she says, far too cheerfully. “We’re in London. We’re heading to your apartment now, so put the kettle on.”
Ice floods my veins. I spin and hurry away from Anika’s room, my heart thudding harder with every step.
“No . . . erm . . . oh god. Aunt Lucy, I moved. I forgot to tell you.”
There’s a beat of silence. “Oh,” she says, “well, that’s not a problem. As long as you’re still in London.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Text me your new address.”
Panic claws up my throat.
There is absolutely no way I’m sending them Ray’s address. He has rules about visitors, and I’m already in his bad books.
“Or,” I say quickly, my words tripping over each other, “I could meet you instead. I need breakfast anyway, and I could show you some of the sights.”
There’s another pause. “I suppose,” Aunt Lucy says slowly, clearly suspicious, “if that’s what you’d prefer.”
“Yes,” I say far too quickly. “Yes, it is.” I force a laugh that sounds painfully fake even to me. “I’ll just get dressed and send you a location on the maps app.”
“All right,” she says. “Don’t keep us waiting.”
I hang up and let out a shaky breath.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
I turn and nearly walk straight into Ray. “We need to talk,” he says.
I jump, one hand flying to my chest. “Jesus.”
He’s standing in the hallway, his broad shoulders blocking my path, his expression unreadable.
His brow lifts.
I swallow hard. “Sorry. I mean . . . okay, great, but not right now. I’m meeting someone.”
I try to step around him.
He doesn’t move straight away. “Wynter—”
“Sorry,” I blurt, already backing away. “I really can’t do this right now.”
Before he can stop me, I slip past him and hurry towards my room, my pulse hammering for a completely different reason now.
Because being humiliated by my boss is one thing.
Letting my aunt and dad discover I’ve been lying . . . that’s a whole new ball game.
Aunt Lucy looks as radiant as ever, all bright eyes and perfect hair, while Dad looks exactly how I expected—grumpy already, like London has personally offended him.
He’s never liked places like this. Thinking they’re too noisy, too busy with far too many people barging about without apologising.
I kiss them both on the cheek, and despite the panic I felt on the phone, I’m genuinely happy to see them. I just wish it had happened under literally any other circumstances.
Lucy takes one look at me and frowns. “You look too thin.”
I glance down at myself. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“It’s probably all the running around I do now,” I say lightly.
Dad grunts. “Or because you’re not eating properly.”
“Good morning to you too,” I mutter.
We find a little café nearby and take a seat by the window. Once we’ve ordered, Lucy folds her arms and fixes me with the kind of stare that says she already knows I’m about to lie.
“So,” she says. “How’s work?”
I force a smile. “Oh, you know. Busy.”
“Wynter.”
Just my name. One word that’s loaded with warning.
I sigh, because there’s no point pretending anymore. “I lost the job with the publisher,” I admit quietly.
Lucy and Dad exchange a look over the table. One that says, we knew something was wrong.
Dad leans back in his chair. “Start talking.”
“They hired someone else after the trial period,” I mumble. “Someone with more experience.”
Lucy’s expression softens a little. “Oh, sweetheart.”
“But it’s fine,” I say quickly. “Honestly. I’ve got a job now and everything’s okay.”
“You moved and didn’t tell us,” Lucy points out.
I wince. “The old place was awful,” I say. “Like, truly awful. Damp walls, broken lift, weird smell in the hallway . . . I found somewhere much better.”
Dad narrows his eyes. “What sort of somewhere?”
“Just . . . better.”
Lucy lifts a brow. “That sounds suspicious.”
I laugh weakly. “It’s not suspicious.”
“Then why didn’t you tell us where you moved to?”
Because I live in a penthouse above a casino owned by an intense, terrifying man who makes me nervous just by breathing in my direction.
Instead, I say, “The landlord’s a bit strange about visitors.”
Dad pulls a face. “Shared accommodation?”
I nod. “Yeah, but it’s nice. Really nice. Better value for money too.” They look unconvinced. “You two need to stop worrying,” I say. “I’m an adult.”
Dad nudges Lucy with his elbow. “I’m not worrying. She is. All. The. Time.”
Lucy ignores him, still watching me. “Because I knew something was going on. Why didn’t you just tell us?”
I look down at my hands. “Because I didn’t want to come home.
” The words slip out before I can soften them.
Lucy’s face falls, and guilt punches straight through me.
“That’s not what I meant,” I say quickly.
“I just . . . I didn’t want this move to be a failure.
I love London. I wanted to make it work. ”
She reaches across the table and rubs my hand with her thumb. “You can’t avoid home forever, Wynter.”
Dad nods. “She’s right.”
I smile, though it feels a little wobbly. “I’ll come home when I feel like I’ve actually made something of myself.”
Lucy studies me for a second, then grins. “Or,” she says, “you could fake it ‘til you make it.”
I laugh. A proper laugh this time, and I begin to relax.
RAY
“Did you hear from Wynter?” Anika asks casually.
I knew I shouldn’t have opened my mouth this morning. She’s not letting this go now.
“No,” I reply. “Why would I? It’s her day off.”