Chapter Twelve
Oliver
O liver sat at a large table in the conference room at Regalia HQ and stifled a yawn. What had got into him? He’d slept well and wasn’t tired, but the day was dragging. Why was everything so deadly dull? Things he would normally enjoy just weren’t keeping his interest at all.
He checked his phone; how was Hayley getting on at day two of the hair show? He’d gone from not wanting her anywhere near his life to wondering what she was doing every second of the day. That couldn’t be good. What would he do when he had to go back to being without her? It wasn’t his business to worry about her. That was the last thing he wanted. The very reason he didn’t do relationships. They brought this kind of panic with them, and he didn’t want it.
Seriously? He searched around for a blunt object. Maybe if I whack myself over the head with it, it’ll stop me from being so sentimental and knock my good sense back into place. He couldn’t let himself fall into the trap. Relationships were not for him. He’d always found Hayley attractive. She made him feel good, so he wanted to be close to her. She was nice to him, and it gave him a boost. The idea she cared about him was comforting and warmed his soul. But this kind of thing didn’t last.
Hayley thought working at love made relationships last, but that wasn’t true. His mum had been a good, loving person, but his dad had never appreciated that when she was alive. Their wedding photos had sat on the mantelpiece, watching every evening as he came home and threw himself into a chair, waiting for his dinner to appear on the table. Sometimes Mum let out her frustration and cried after Dad left in the morning. Oliver could still hear the sobs in the caverns of his mind. Occasionally she’d shout, other times she was like a zombie. And then she was gone. Oliver’s stepmother had come on the scene way too soon. Had she always been waiting? He never dared ask. She seemed to accept her lot as wife and mother, which suited his father. Was it true love? More like convenience and status on her side. She got a big house and loved rubbing shoulders with other farmers, landowners, and estate owners. As for his dad… pure luck. All he seemed to want from a relationship was a cook and a maid.
With no messages from Hayley or anyone, Oliver returned his attention to the speaker and tried to focus. He didn’t remember a day going this slowly for a long time. At lunchtime he had a quick catch up with Nathan, but even that was a little strained because of the limbo of not knowing whether he had the job or not.
When he finally left, he couldn’t relax as he had the meal that night. Hayley had messaged him with lots of emojis and gifs about how excited she was to be going to Nimbus 9, the rooftop bar. Christmas had come five weeks early by the sound of her hyper voice messages. And actually, it had because Christmas trees and decorations were everywhere. Annoying really how the obsession for everything glittery and over-indulgent took over the last quarter of every year. A pointless waste of money. Much like weddings.
By the time Oliver got back to the hotel, the rush hour was in full flow, and he was glad to step into the cool quiet of the foyer. He took the stairs two and a time, zapped open the door, and entered.
Hayley sat on the bed, wrapped in a fluffy hotel robe, painting her toenails. Oliver turned his gaze away. Christ’s sake . He loosened his tie. Why did she always look so damn seductive?
‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I left a bit earlier today because I wanted to make sure I was ready for tonight.’
‘How long does it take?’ he asked.
‘Ages. I need to be perfect. You have no idea how many pictures I’m going to take.’
‘Hmm. I could probably make a guess.’
‘You can take some of me on the roof. Apparently, there’s an eighteen-foot Christmas tree outside. I’ll need a photo with that.’
‘How will I get the whole thing in and you? You’ll look tiny.’
‘Just try.’
He sat down on the bed opposite her, resting his wrists on his knees and leaning on them. ‘Does Finlay know you’re here with me?’
‘Nope.’ She continued along her toes.
‘And I assume you aren’t planning on telling him why you’re at the roof-top bar.’
‘I don’t really mind if he knows where I am. It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong, is it?’
‘No, but I doubt he’ll see it like that. I’m sure he’ll be curious, at the very least.’
She let out a little laugh. ‘You mean he’ll jump to all the wrong conclusions?’
‘He won’t be the only one.’ Oliver got to his feet, tugged off his suit jacket, and tossed it on the bed. He yanked off his tie, then undid his top button before he caught his reflection. But he didn’t look at his face. His eyes were drawn to the reflection of Hayley on the bed behind. She’d stopped polishing her toenails, her hand suspended above her foot, her focus unwaveringly on him. He froze. What the hell? They were eyeing each other in a way that wasn’t healthy given their current situation… her in nothing but a bathrobe and him dangerously close to removing his shirt. What was he thinking? It had seemed the natural thing to do, but not now. Now the only thing that seemed appropriate was removing his shirt, then the rest of his clothes, and joining her on the bed. Once he was there… Oh, the things he would do. Maybe his eyes were telling her exactly that because she gave a choked little cough, possibly a laugh, and went back to drying her nails with a little pink device like a mini torch. Oliver walked to the other end of the room, still unbuttoning his shirt and keeping his back to her. There were some things he wasn’t sure he wanted her to see.
‘Hey. Would you like to be my model?’ she asked.
‘Your what?’ He glanced back at her.
‘I got all these freebies today.’ She jumped off the bed and lifted a large carrier bag. ‘Including this rather fancy male grooming pouch with loads of cool products.’ Holding up a faux leather bag, she beamed at him.
‘And… er… What exactly do you want me to do?’
‘Sit back and relax. I’ll do the work.’
Her smile was so endearing. How could anyone ever say no to her? She must have had her parents wrapped around her little finger as a child. Flash that smile and she’d have every toy in the shop, every sweet from the packet… Now, she must have guys queuing up at her door, wanting to be the one to please her. How the hell was she single?
‘Well… ok. What does it entail exactly? Are you going to cut my hair? Because I quite like it as it is.’
‘Of course I won’t cut it without asking you. I could trim the back and level the edges, if you like, but I won’t change the style. And I’ll give you a close shave using these rather nifty’ – she popped off a lid and sniffed a bottle – ‘and heavenly scented products. All made from natural ingredients.’
‘You want to shave me?’ He ran his hand around his jaw. There was some five o’clock shadow there, but holy fuck. He might die if she touched him. One flinch and she could cut his throat. But that wasn’t really what was bothering him. Help .
‘Only if you want me to.’ That smile was back, and Christ, he was a weak man.
‘Well, ok.’
‘Fab.’ She put the bottle back in the pouch and laid it on the dressing table. ‘If you take off your shirt and sit here.’ She pulled out the chair. ‘It’s not as good as the salon chairs, but we’ll make it work.’
Take off my shirt…? Just like that. Man, was he screwed. He did as she said, discarding it on the bed. Her eyes raked him over as he approached and sat down. She flicked out a towel and covered him with it. The disturbance in the air and her closeness sent a shiver across his skin, though the room was warm.
She began combing his hair. He couldn’t avoid seeing her in the mirror unless he closed his eyes, and that would look weird. Her soft floral scent was both erotic and calming. It was messing with him again. She put down the comb and smoothed up the back of his neck with one soft palm. Jesus Christ. This would be the death of him.
Pulling out a little razor from the leather pouch, she uncapped it.
‘Do you know how to use one of them?’ he asked, barely concealing his panic.
‘Of course I do. Hang on. I need some water.’ She rummaged in her case and pulled out a little spray bottle. What else did she have in there? Nipping into the bathroom, she ran the tap. When she returned, she spritzed the back of his neck, and droplets landed like a soft mist on his skin. Then she squirted a little foam from one of the miniature bottles from the pouch. It smelled deep and intense, a little spicy. Not bad at all.
‘Ok, you have to sit really still.’ She gently patted the foam onto the back of his neck.
‘I’ll try.’ His back went rigid at the tickling sensation of the foam. Her hand landed on his shoulder, holding him fast. She leaned in, her soft breath skimming his neck as she scraped the razor across his skin. He clamped his jaw shut, trying to pause his brain and stop his thoughts developing, or travelling to any other part of his body; his anatomy needed no extra reminders on what it might like to do right now.
After a few swift strokes, she stopped.
‘Is that it?’ he asked.
‘Not quite. Stay still.’ A few more strokes. Hayley tilted her head and leaned right in, concentrating. ‘There we are.’ She cleaned off the foam with a damp flannel. How was she so well prepared?
‘Now for the front.’ Still standing behind him, she placed her palms on his cheeks and ran them down like she was feeling for the grain. He was in danger of losing consciousness now, because he didn’t dare breathe. He watched her in the mirror. The eye contact was strong. His body was ready to respond to her touch in all number of inappropriate ways.
She smiled rather wickedly like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. ‘Let’s smoothen you up.’ She sprayed more foam onto her palms, then gently patted it onto his cheeks. Every particle of his energy was being spent forcing himself not to be visibly affected by this.
With deft movements, she glided the razor along the curve of his jaw. So confident and precise. She seemed to know exactly where to move the blade without a second thought.
The soft scrape of the razor against his skin sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He half closed his eyes, allowing her to tilt his head back, exposing his neck. Gently, she worked along the underside of his chin.
‘Gorgeous.’ She wiped off the remaining foam.
Does she mean me?
‘Let’s put on a little moisturiser.’ She applied it with gentle pressure, then stepped back.
Oliver blinked at his reflection, running his hand over the smooth skin. ‘Good work.’ He moved his head from side to side. She was a pro right enough.
‘Not too scary, was it?’
‘The jury’s out.’
She giggled. ‘Aftershave? Or would you prefer your usual brand?’
‘May as well use that one and complete the experience.’
‘Allow me.’ She patted some onto her hands, then gently tapped his cheeks. They smarted momentarily, then the cool sensation spread over his face.
‘Thanks.’
‘Any time.’ She smiled and their eyes met in the mirror. Nice promise, but she wouldn’t be around the next time he needed a shave. Still running his fingertips over his jawline, he got to his feet. He pulled the towel from his shoulders and dropped it over the radiator. Hayley’s gaze was like a targeted missile. He didn’t have to look to know she was watching him.
He opened his case and took out a clean shirt. Back home, he could get away with wearing the same one he’d worn earlier, but London grime and dust made his skin itch and crawl.
‘I’ll just get dressed in here.’ He took his clothes into the bathroom and splashed water on his chest and arms.
When he came out fully dressed in his evening suit, he froze. Hayley had put on a dark red sheath dress with a low-cut V-neck. She stood before the mirror, putting the finishing touches to a perfect up-do. As she turned to check it, Oliver was presented with the view of her bare back as the dress plunged low, with only a slender gold chain running across her shoulder blades between the straps. Could she be any hotter? Men everywhere dreamed of women like her on their arms for a function like this. How could he explain who she was without sounding like an idiot? Because any single man who wasn’t interested in her must be an idiot.
‘Is this dress ok?’ She turned to face him. ‘Or is it too short? I’ve got a longer one, just in case.’
Oliver raised his eyebrow, though he didn’t really mean to. He seemed to have lost control of his anatomy. ‘Looks great from where I’m standing.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ she said.
‘And so you should.’ He checked the time on his phone. ‘We should head down. The Uber will be here soon.’
Hayley beamed at Oliver as they sat in the backseat of the Uber. She smoothed the skirt of her dress, her tanned knees jutting out beneath it, and Oliver forced himself to look away. This was what he’d spent most of his adult life trying to avoid or not to notice. Never since the day he’d come home from uni and gone to visit Finlay only to find his kid sister all grown up had a minute passed when he hadn’t found her attractive. She’d gone from a girl he never paid any attention to, to a stunning young woman. Ten years on and she was just as gorgeous, if not more so. Now she was here, within his grasp. Must not act rashly.
Even thinking about it made him cringe. What exactly would he say or suggest? A hook-up for the next couple of nights? Not awkward at all – much. Inviting her here had been stupid enough. He hadn’t thought it through. All he’d wanted was company for the function, but he hadn’t planned what he would tell people. He leaned his forehead in his hand and moved closer to the cab window with a groan.
‘Are you ok?’ Hayley asked.
‘Yeah. Absolutely fine. You?’
‘Completely overexcited. I can’t wait to see this place. I’ve heard about it, but I never expected to be going there anytime soon, especially when it’ll be all decked out in its Christmas finery.’
Oliver gave her a little smile. It was hard not to imbibe some of her constant optimism. ‘I’m glad it’s to your liking. I can’t guarantee the company will be very interesting. People like to talk shop at these events, and you’ll probably find it deadly dull.’
‘I don’t think so. I like people and I usually find interesting things to chat about. It’s part of my job, you know? Cutting hair is just one part of it. If I don’t actively engage with clients, they won’t come back.’
‘Then you must be one of the best.’
She gave him a quizzical smile. ‘Is that you being sarky?’
‘No. I mean it.’
‘Well, thanks. But after seeing some of the stylists at the show today, I’m definitely not one of the best.’
‘I beg to differ.’ He ran his hand over his jaw. ‘You did a good job on me.’
‘Did I now?’
With a resigned sigh, he said. ‘You know what I mean. I’ve never even let the barber shave me before.’
‘I’m honoured.’
‘You should be.’
She gave a little smirk. ‘Do you know most of the people who’ll be here tonight?’
‘Some of them, but not everyone.’
‘Is there anyone going that you’re close to? Friends? Colleagues? That kind of thing?’
‘Just Nathan. He’s someone I’ve known for a long time. We were at uni together and we kept in touch, though I wouldn’t say we were close. We’ve supported each other, and he’s been instrumental in getting me in a good position to get this job.’
‘He sounds great. I can’t wait to meet him.’
Oliver gazed out the window at the passing traffic and the city lights. Nathan was a good person. Oliver had helped him with tricky cases, and they’d traded useful info, but he was so much more gregarious than Oliver. Thankfully Nathan had a wife, otherwise Oliver’s hackles would be up and his fists clenched. Nathan had an easy way with women and Hayley would doubtless be charmed… But why did that matter? And why am I bothered? He glanced back at Hayley and heat and energy surged through him, urging him to reach out and place a hand on her knee: claim her, protect her, keep her. But he couldn’t.
The cab pulled up outside the bar. Oliver paid as Hayley got out and gaped up at the entrance, surrounded by sparkling fairy lights. Impressive stuff with the giant Christmas trees, all twinkling and gleaming, flanking the doors. By the time he reached her side, she had her phone out and was snapping pictures and selfies.
‘This place is just wow.’
Oliver straightened his jacket, looked at the door, then back at Hayley and put out his elbow. She stared at it for a second, then with a broad smile, linked her arm into his. A sharp sense of satisfaction rose within him as he strode forward. With Hayley beside him like this, he was ready for world domination. He could shoot down all the awkwardness he usually felt when attending events like this by himself. He wouldn’t have to scan the room for familiar faces or latch onto random groups and pretend he was part of their conversation.
They made their way through the first level and up the stairs. Perhaps Hayley’s heels weren’t the easiest to walk in and that was why she was holding his arm so tight; he didn’t want to think it might be anything else. Definitely not the possibility that she might like him… As in like like him. More than she should. More than was sensible… For them both.
‘Oliver,’ a loud voice called from the top of the stairs and Oliver spotted Nathan leaning over from the gallery and waving. Oliver raised his hand in return.
‘Evening,’ he said as they reached Nathan.
‘Glad you made it. Traffic was a nightmare as usual.’ Nathan clapped Oliver’s arm, then beamed at Hayley. ‘And you must be—’
‘Hayley,’ Oliver said.
‘Of course.’ Nathan beamed at her. ‘Oliver mentioned someone was with him but didn’t say who. Please to meet you. I’m Nathan Shelby.’
Hayley shook his hand, returning his smile, then pulled a face at Oliver that clearly said, you never even told him my name.
‘Nice to meet you, Nathan,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard all about you.’
‘Indeed?’ Nathan blinked dramatically and Oliver almost rolled his eyes at his utterly fake and over-the-top look of shock.
‘Of course. After all the help you’ve given Oliver with the possible new job.’
Nathan swatted his hand in front of his face. ‘It was nothing, really. Just gave him the heads up.’
‘Where’s Emma-Jane?’ Oliver asked.
‘Somewhere about,’ Nathan said. ‘She saw some people she knew and went off to chat. I was waiting for you. Have you heard anything new about the job yet?’
‘Nothing.’
‘That’s annoying. I thought they would have been in touch by now.’
‘They said it might be tomorrow.’ As the words came out, Oliver suppressed a discomforting sensation in his stomach. Much as he wanted to know, all the dilemmas he’d been putting off thinking about would crash through the floodgates like a tidal wave as soon as he got that call. Decisions would have to be made no matter what the outcome.
‘I just know you’ll get it,’ Nathan said.
‘Me too,’ Hayley added with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. How could she possibly know? She knew nothing about his career unless Finlay had told her. But Oliver wasn’t sure Finlay knew either. Oliver had an impressive track record, but he didn’t brag about it. The constant cycle of betterment got to him more than any celebration of his success. Once he’d achieved a giddy height, there was always that sense of not wanting to look down. How could he maintain this position? Or repeat the climb and perhaps go one better? A perpetual and exhausting wheel of hard work, self-doubt, and fear.
‘And how do you feel about coming to live here?’ Nathan asked Hayley.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, as we’re all pretty certain Oliver will get the job, it stands to reason you’ll be moving here.’
‘We don’t live together,’ Oliver said.
‘Oh…’ Nathan huffed a little laugh, his cheeks reddening slightly. ‘Sorry, I just assumed. I apologise.’ His gaze shifted subtly between Oliver and Hayley, and Oliver was certain a question was coming, but Nathan took a sip of champagne and said nothing.
‘Don’t apologise,’ Hayley said. ‘An easy mistake to make.’
Oliver’s focus darted to her.
‘Too right,’ Nathan said.
‘Where do we get champagne?’ Hayley asked.
‘Oh…’ Nathan looked around. ‘There was a man walking around. Where is he?’
‘I see someone. I’ll go grab us some.’ Hayley sashayed off through the crowd, like a movie star arriving for a film premiere.
‘I am sorry,’ Nathan said quietly. ‘I hope I didn’t put my big foot in it. Isn’t she your girlfriend?’
‘No.’ Oliver shook his head.
‘Who is she then?’
‘Just… Someone I know.’
‘Come on, Oliver. You didn’t come to London with some random woman, did you? Is she just a casual hook-up you brought for a bit of—’
‘No, nothing like that. She’s a friend. An acquaintance.’
Nathan patted Oliver on the arm. ‘You might be a good lawyer, but you’re a strange man sometimes.’
‘Why?’
‘If you can’t work it out for yourself, then it’s really not my place to say.’