Chapter Three
“I’ll see you tonight. I promise to rescue you from Tosspot Atkinson,”
Jack calls out to me as he reaches the door.
“Okay, and don’t be late. I’m not listening to his shit for more than half an hour.”
Jack gives me a salute and goes off to work.
The reunion ball is in three months’ time, close enough for Monty the tosser to call a meeting. He wants to go over his ideas of what I should talk about. It seems that there are specific topics. I’m not allowed to talk about whatever interests me. We’ll see about that. I gather my messenger bag and keys and go to work.
Eight hours later, I trudge into the bar where Monty’s laughter greets me. A shudder rolls down my spine. God, what a wanker. I’m going to need fortification in the form of a strong drink. At the bar, I order a double gin and tonic. A thick hand lands on my shoulder and turns me around.
“Blinkers, you made it. Excellent. Come on. I’ve got a table in the corner and already ordered some food.”
The bartender places my drink in front of me. I hand him a ten-pound note. “Thank you.”
Pocketing my change, I follow Monty like a dead man walking. I sit and take a fortifying gulp. Monty produces a thick folder full of whatever he thinks is important for a charity ball.
“Have you thought about your speech yet? It’s only three months now, but we have time to get you word-perfect before the big night. Weekly meetings are imperative from now on.”
Does his voice have a volume control?
“I have, and I don’t need any coaching. I’m comfortable talking to large groups.”
“No can do, Blinkers. I’ve chosen your topic, which will have everyone reaching for their wallets. We, the committee, want to focus on the importance of friendship. This will give all the old boys a trip down memory lane, and they’ll willingly dig deep in their pockets to raise some cash for the school. It was such a happy time for all of us, don’t you think, old boy?”
A mixture of horror and hysteria runs through me, and I don’t know whether to laugh at him or punch him. He must be delusional. Does he really think we were friends? “You do realise we’re only twenty-eight. I’m hardly an ‘old boy’.”
A plate of roast beef sandwiches is set on the table. My stomach lets out a loud rumble, and I laugh. Monty claps me on the back. “I call you that as an old boy of the school. Such happy days.”
He’s stark raving bonkers, but I’m hungry, so I take a bite out of my sandwich and let him waffle on about the event.
“Blinkers, I thought you and your boyfriend made a lovely couple. I’ve added him as your plus-one. All I need is his name, and he’s on the list. I always thought you were playing a joke, acting gay to make us laugh, didn’t really think you meant it.”
Oh fuck, what do I say? As much as I want him to be, that tall drink of water isn’t my boyfriend. What the hell do I do? Make up a name and then say we broke up. Yes, that will do it. As I conjure up a name that would suit a pretend boyfriend, Monty lets out another of his braying laughs. “Never mind. Here he is.”
I whip my head around. Monty was right. There, looking even more gorgeous than I remember, is the sexy-as-fuck man. And next to him stands Jack. Bloody hell, he must be the new guy at Tom Ford. God, what’s his name? Monty gives me a nudge so hard I nearly fly off the edge of the bench.
I scramble up and walk over to them. “Hey, Jack, good to see you.”
I turn to sexy-hot guy. “Fancy seeing you here.”
His smart suit looks tailored for him, which I guess it probably has been. The dark navy light wool blend seems to mould his body, and the crisp pale blue shirt open at the neck reveals a hint of skin at the base of his neck. I want to lick the little indent there. His dirty blond hair is tousled to perfection. Whether it’s intentional or not, it suits him. His eyes are the colour of a pale blue lagoon, and I could drown in them.
He smiles back, a full-on smile that makes a dimple appear. Oh, hell, I’m lost.
“Um, Ollie, this is Kit. He started working with me this week. Kit, this is my best friend—”
Kit holds out his hand. “Oliver Blinkhorn, the most difficult man to find in the world. It’s good to see you again.”
“Oh, he doesn’t go by that name. Yes, he’s Ollie, but his surname is Stansbury,”
Jack says.
“Really? No wonder I couldn’t find you, Ollie Stansbury.”
He shakes his head.
“If you hadn’t run off, I would’ve told you.”
“Cockblocked by my mother again,”
he mutters under his breath.
“Don’t be rude, Blinkers. Introduce me to your boyfriend.”
He grins at Kit, then looks at Jack as if he’s something nasty the cat dragged in.
I tug Kit’s arm and do probably the dumbest thing ever. “He thinks you’re my boyfriend. Can you play along just until we can get away from him? I’ll explain why later.”
He peruses me while he mulls over my proposition. “Yeah, why not? It could be fun.”
“Thank you. I owe you big time.”
I turn back to Monty and give him my biggest fake smile. “Monty, this is Kit, my boyfriend.”
I ignore Jack’s cocked eyebrow and take Kit’s hand, which is warm and smooth and so much bigger than mine. My heart is beating so fast I wouldn’t be surprised if it burst from my chest. I can’t work out if it’s nervousness or excitement. Either way, the man I’ve been dreaming about is here, and he’s holding my hand.
“Kit, great to meet you. I was just saying to Blinkers I’d added you as his plus-one for the school ball.”
Monty extends his hand, so Kit has to let go of mine. God, Monty is such a dick. He’s gripping Kit’s hand too hard; an exchange of power goes on for a moment. Monty lets go first. Wow, round one to Kit.
Kit sits on the bench, pulls me next to him, and wraps his arm around my shoulder. Okay, Ollie, calm down. This is going to be fine. “I hope you’ve got all the boring talk over with. I’ve got plans with Ollie.”
“Yes, yes. I think so. We’ll be meeting regularly. I’m coaching his speech and need to make sure he doesn’t embarrass us on the stage that night. Blinkers spent a lot of his school time hiding away. Didn’t you?”
Monty brays his donkey laugh again. “Used to love all the tricks we played.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Ollie has done well for himself,”
Jack says. Kill me now. He’s going to tell him things I don’t want Monty to know.
“Has he now? You haven’t told me what you do, Blinkers.”
“Oh, not much. I work in finance. Quite boring.”
It’s made me a shit ton of money, though.
“You were such a swot at school, always with your head in a book. What is it? You look like an accountant.”
“Investment.”
Jesus, what’s with all the questions?
“What do you do, Monty?”
Kit asks. He must have picked up on how much of a nosey arse Monty is.
“I run the family business, took over from my father when I finished uni. Estate agency. It makes me a tidy sum. I’m on the school committee as well, always keeping in touch with the old place.”
I look at my watch and sigh. Kit stands. “We need to go. We’ve got a table booked at the Compton Arms, and I can’t wait to get one of the burgers. You ready, babe?”
He turns to me with a smile that makes me want to climb into his lap forever.
“Yeah, I’m starving. Jack, you coming?”
My best friend is still trying to work out what the hell is going on. “I don’t want to be the third wheel.”
“Come on, Jack,” Kit says.
“See you later, Monty. I’ll call when I’ve written my speech.”
We leave him gaping, no doubt wondering what has just happened.