CHAPTER 11
Leo
‘I’m going to be in so much trouble!’ I tell Rosa, head in my hands. She pours the last of our carafe into my glass and signals to the barman to bring another one. I’d protested about a whole bottle before, but I don’t stop her now.
After my disastrous morning, I spent all day fretting about my lack of composure with George. So unprofessional. So unlike me.
Rosa Riley:
Got a table outside at The Audley.
Can’t drink alone . . .
Sounds like you need one!
I told Cece I needed to leave early to pack, then headed straight over.
‘But he was finding excuses for me not to go to Paris and I couldn’t help it.’
‘But you don’t want to go to Paris?’ she says, amused. ‘So really, he was trying to do you a favour?’
I look up as our carafe arrives, taking a big gulp of my already full glass. ‘That’s not the point. God. He’s infuriating.’
‘Infuriatingly sexy?’ She smiles. ‘I saw the LinkedIn post; you two look good together.’
I look at her over my glass. ‘Don’t,’ I say, recalling the feel of his grip on my waist, his whisper in my ear.
It had been jarring seeing him in person again, although of course he didn’t remember me; the tension I felt in his presence was tangible, electrifying.
It seemed to sizzle just under the surface of my skin, I was surprised no one else had sensed it.
I couldn’t concentrate as I tried to dampen my agitation.
Not that he was remotely affected by me. His face was stern, controlled as always. He looked bored by the whole thing, which I imagine he actually was, until Cece hit a nerve and he spouted some token concern for his team.
And his brother. He hadn’t changed in the slightest. His cold eyes had flicked straight to my chest as I introduced myself and he had held my hand slightly too long, despite me trying to pull away. It wasn’t overly sinister, but he made me feel uncomfortable, on edge.
Rosa brings me back to the present, changing the subject. ‘Have you replied to Jack yet?’
‘I don’t know what to say. I shouldn’t have run away, but I freaked out. How did I not know he was friends with him?!’
‘Well, I guess the Hampdens are from Buckinghamshire too?’
Are they?! ‘I didn’t know that, you said he lived in London?’
‘He might, but his family owns Grange Park. The estate Grange Home Farm is on?’ She takes another sip. ‘How do I know this and you don’t?’
I shrug. ‘I have had no interest in him outside of tennis. Just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he’s interesting.’
She grins. ‘So you do think he’s hot then?’
‘Fuck off.’
She laughs. ‘You should speak to Jack though; he has no idea why you left.’
‘No.’ I drop my head. ‘But he’s called me two or three times, and texted. I feel bad for ignoring him.’
‘Surely George would have told him after this morning?’ Rosa questions. Oh shit. I hadn’t thought of that. ‘Call him now!’ She looks almost excited by the horrible coincidence.
I look at my phone and groan.
‘It’s almost half six. I need to get back and pack. I’m gone for two weeks. TWO WEEKS.’ I drain my glass. ‘Shall we finish this quickly and get the train? I’ll call him when I’m home.’
Rosa says the five words she knows will cheer me up. ‘I’ll get us an Uber.’ She smiles. ‘Now drink up. We’ve got outfits to plan.’
——
I end up stress-packing, as per, crawling into bed later than usual, so I don’t find a chance to call Jack, but I send a quick text before bed.
Leo James:
I’m sorry. Haven’t been meaning to ignore you. Imagine you know now about George? So weird . . .
I’m nodding off when I hear a buzz and lean over to read his reply. But it’s not him.
George Hampden:
See you in Paris. I guess we can discuss ‘my preferences’ in person now.