Love on the Air

12

resurrected the Versace heels I’d worn to the Tilly Roy interview in London, this time around pairing them with a black SKIMS short-sleeved bodysuit and high-waisted silver pants. Love her or hate her, Kimmy K knows how to snatch a waist and this baby was delivering tonight. Taking inspiration from the seventies heels, Carla gave me big hair that was somewhere between Tina Turner and Farrah Fawcett.

I texted a selfie to Tom. He ‘liked’ the pic and shot one back of his get-up seconds later. A classic all-black look with new Yeezy sneakers that would have set him back a week’s wage. His dedication to monotone chic would one day bankrupt him, but he looked so good that I agreed it was worth possible homelessness.

Me in SKIMS and you in Yeezys. Love that for us. ETA 7:15 x

Me too. Slay, bitch x

I shared the lift up to the penthouse with Cameron Black, a music journalist who had been in the business for what felt like longer than I’d been alive. She wore black jeans and sneakers to every event, no matter the dress code, and no one ever batted an eyelid. The only thing she loved more than music was white wine, and she always had one happily cradled in her hand as she chatted away. If Cameron liked you, you were in. If she didn’t like you, there was no way of coming in from the cold. Nobody knew more about the industry than her, and absolutely nothing went on that she didn’t know about. She was cool as shit and had always been mates with Goldie Miller. While Goldie was older, they’d come up through the ranks at the same time and were the most high-profile females to ever do their jobs. It had bred a real toughness that was completely necessary and a huge part of the reason they’d both been so damn successful.

Legend had it that in the early nineties, when Cameron was starting out in print media and Instagram didn’t exist, everyone assumed she was a man thanks to her androgynous name. This made for some amazing, now infamous stories from junkets where ageing rockers were somewhat flabbergasted when a twenty-year-old raven-haired Cameron walked in, notepad in hand, ready to get down to business. Legend also had it that she’d capitalised on this surprise more than once, although she never commented on the rumours of whirlwind romances over the years with lothario rock stars.

Cameron had always been indifferent to me, which I counted as a good thing. Then she’d sent me a note when I was announced as Goldie’s replacement. It simply read ‘Let it rip, Alex’. It had made me smile, and served as a timely reminder that my show’s success was important not just for me and my team but also for all women who wanted to do what I do. It also gave me hope that her indifference had morphed into acceptance.

‘Goldie would be very proud of those pants, Missy.’ Cameron said as I stepped into the lift.

‘I can think of no greater compliment!’ I laughed. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve heard from her lately?’

Cameron shook her head. ‘Not a peep. When she said she was going off-grid, I thought she meant for a week. But nothing. Radio silence. Pun intended.’

I frowned, puzzled. ‘Well, I suppose it’s her prerogative. But I could certainly do with a little Goldie wisdom.’

Cameron crossed her arms and faced me. ‘Let me guess, not everyone is as delighted as we are about another solo female taking jobs away from the boys?’

I laughed, then half-groaned. ‘That’s kinda the vibe I’m getting. We’ll see. I’m still trying to get to the bottom of it.’

Cameron reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. Her face was serious. ‘Don’t bother trying to get to the bottom of it, Alex. Because whatever is at the bottom of it will only disappoint you deeply. You gotta block it out. And do what you do best. Make fucking good radio and keep your self-respect intact. Nobody can argue with that. No journalist, no listener, no boss and certainly no pathetic, jealous radio host whose ego is so big he can’t stand the idea that you earn more money than him in a better timeslot.’ She paused. ‘Got it?’

‘Wow. You really do know everything that goes on,’ I replied, both buoyed by her pep talk and dejected that she’d seemingly confirmed my suspicion.

‘Chin up. Self-respect.’ The elevator door opened. ‘And now it’s time for a wine. Enjoy yourself tonight, Alex. It’s the best job in the world.’

And with that, Cameron disappeared into the dark, busy room.

I always expected that Darren would be pissed off about me getting the gig, I just didn’t think he’d actually do something about it—especially so quickly—before I’d even had the chance to fail or succeed. I scanned the room for Tom, who I spotted texting furiously on his phone in the corner.

‘You okay?’ I asked as I approached.

He snapped his head up and put his phone in his pocket. ‘Yep! Let’s grab a drink. You look hot.’

We walked towards the bar, wading through the small crowd of industry figures, most of whom I knew by face only but waved at and greeted with much warmth and enthusiasm. There were two cocktails on offer, and I ordered the one with gin in it, not worrying about the rest of the ingredients. I’d never met a gin I didn’t like.

The penthouse was filled with furniture covered in peach-coloured velvet, which actually looked less Playboy Mansion than you’d imagine, and it opened out into a courtyard outlined by palm trees and featuring a luxurious swimming pool. Knowing how rowdy these parties usually got, someone might or might not end up in the pool fully clothed, which was why a lifeguard sat in a chair by the pool—although, by the looks of him, he could very well be a male model hired for the evening to sit there, look buff and jump in after anyone who happened to fall in. I hoped he could actually swim.

We walked outside into the warm, balmy air and found two lounge chairs. I put my cocktail on the ground and cleared my throat, my eyes fixed on the moonlit pool.

‘Anything you wanna talk about?’

Tom slowly sipped on his drink. ‘Nope.’

I groaned internally. ‘Okay. I’ll ask again on Monday.’

‘Answer will be the same.’

‘I know.’ I paused. ‘You psycho—’

Our giggles were interrupted by some microphone feedback inside. I looked over to see Miles from the record label fiddling with something on a small stage in the corner. We quickly got up and made our way in, where a crowd was gathering.

‘Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate some of the talent that we’re so excited about this year.’

I could tell straight away that he was hiding something, such was the barely suppressed energy pouring out of him. In the years I’d known him, I’d never seen him this buzzed.

‘I know you’re going to love the entertainment we’ve got in store for you. We’ve got three artists to introduce you to tonight—some of you may have heard of them and many of you won’t have. But we thought we’d kick things off with a very last-minute surprise. In fact, I only knew this was happening this morning. Now, we usually wait till the end of the showcase to bring out our guest of honour, but tonight’s guest is always the life of every party, so we figured we’d bring him out nice and early.’ At this point I felt as though he was about to have an aneurysm from excitement.

I looked at Tom, confused. He was staring intently at the stage. I could see the cogs in his brain ticking.

‘Our only request is that you don’t put anything on social media for the next hour or so. As a favour to security, yeah?’

The mood of the crowd grew excited. Tom looked sideways at me, eyebrows raised. I narrowed my eyes, thinking.

It couldn’t be. Surely he would have told us.

Miles looked over at me knowingly, as if I was in on the surprise. ‘Please welcome to the stage the one and only … Finley! Fucking! Stark !’

The crowd around us erupted in shock, disbelief and euphoria.

‘What the actual fuck?’ Tom hissed at me as the entire room shook. ‘Did you know about this?’

A loud cackle escaped my lungs. This was classic Finley ‘fucking’ Stark.

‘I had no idea. I would have told you. But you know Finley … he gets off on surprises,’ I replied, giggling as I finished off my drink.

Moments later Finley appeared on the stage, looking as beautiful and electric as ever. His auburn hair was pulled back off his face with a jade-coloured scarf (it looked like Hermès, but I couldn’t be sure), and he wore a black button-up shirt that was more unbuttoned than buttoned. His arm tatts peeked out from beneath rolled up sleeves. I watched his eyes scan the room until they found us. He grinned at me, and then settled his eyes on Tom. I felt Tom tense up immediately.

‘Well, don’t you all look fucking fabulous tonight, my friends?’

The crowd cheered. Even the waitstaff had their phones out.

‘I was in the studio in Madrid yesterday and I thought to myself … fuck it! And here I am. In my favourite city. With my favourite people.’

The room erupted again. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Darren pushing his way to the front of the crowd. Once he got there, he started taking selfies.

‘What a loser,’ Tom spat. ‘I hope Finley trips, falls on top of him and breaks his nose. But then again he’s such a starfucker that he’d probably get off on it.’

‘Whoa. That was bitchy, even for you, doll.’ I laughed. ‘Are you okay?’

Tom ran his hands down his shirt as if he was ironing out imaginary creases. ‘Yep. Fine. Sorry, Darren just really irks me.’

Back on the stage, Finley continued to chat to the crowd of guests and staff, most of whom were staring at him the way you stare at someone while you imagine having sex with them. A look I may have been guilty of once or twice when Leo took the floor in work meetings. I glanced around before I could drift into another hotel daydream. I had wondered if Leo would make an appearance tonight. He was, of course, invited but these sorts of events weren’t really up his alley. Schmoozing was not his style; his Instagram was non-existent and therefore he didn’t need the penthouse pics. Plus, he’d been doing this long enough not to be lured by the promise of free alcohol. I imagined he was at his hotel reading a book and sipping on whisky. An oddly alluring image.

I shook the thoughts out of my head, refocusing my attention on the stage, where Miles was speaking again.

‘Finley will perform a little later in the evening, but in the meantime, please find your seats. First course will be served in five minutes, and we’ll kick off the first of our showcase artists.’

As the low buzz of excited conversation replaced Finley’s vocals, I looked at Tom, bemused. He still seemed a little pissed off.

‘I just don’t know why he didn’t tell us he was coming,’ he said, almost under his breath.

I shrugged. It was clear that for whatever reason, he didn’t find the ‘surprise’ as amusing as I did. But I’d given up trying to understand Tom’s thought processes years ago and knew that after a couple of drinks he would find some other drama to focus his attention on.

‘I’m just gonna go to the bathroom,’ Tom said. ‘I’ve already checked and we’re sitting together. You go ahead.’ He pointed towards a table at the front of the room. I headed to the bar for another cocktail en route. Once I got to my seat, I was surprised to see a place card for Tom to my right and one for Leo to my left. I didn’t think this event was really his thing, and he hadn’t mentioned that he’d be attending. I was beginning to scan the room to my right for Tom’s return when I heard the chair next to me move. I swung around as Leo pulled it out. A tiny bolt of lightning shot through my chest. He was wearing a shirt almost identical to Finley’s, albeit with all the buttons done up—and no silk headscarf, unsurprisingly.

‘I didn’t think I’d see you here!’ I said, trying to conceal the slight buzz that his unexpected appearance had elicited inside me.

‘Well, I wasn’t going to come, but then they told me about the guest of honour so I thought I should make an appearance.’

‘You knew?’ I asked, wide-eyed and shocked.

‘Perks of being the boss. I was sworn to secrecy.’ He pretended to zip up his lips. ‘I didn’t mean to be so late though. Reckon I can steal you for five minutes? We need to chat.’

I raised my eyebrows. Before I knew it, he’d beckoned for me to follow him and led me to a private room off the main hallway towards the kitchen. He closed the door behind him.

‘So, I got to the bottom of the Darren thing.’

My stomach dropped. Despite Cameron confirming my suspicions, I had still fully expected him to tell me that it wasn’t even Darren in that photo, just some doppelganger who was meeting Mark to discuss new hand dryers in the bathrooms. I took a deep breath. ‘Right. Continue.’

‘It was Darren in the photo. With his manager. And Mark.’

I stiffened. ‘Mm-hmm.’

‘Mark said it was just a chat about Darren’s future. Wouldn’t go into details.’

‘Right. Okay, well I suppose that could mean anything. It could have nothing to do with me, right?’ I pleaded hopefully.

‘Well, I don’t know. But …’ his voice trailed off.

‘But what?’

‘Mark has mentioned lately that he … wants to put some drama into the show. Some tension.’

I stiffened. ‘Right.’

‘That’s what we were having a heated discussion over that day you saw us in the boardroom. He’s never loved the idea of the show being too positive. Too …’ He paused, hesitant. ‘I’m trying to figure out a way to say this that doesn’t make him sound like an arsehole. He doesn’t want the show to be too …’

I had an inkling where this was going. ‘Feminine?’

Leo exhaled and winced in the affirmative.

‘That son of a bitch. He knows it’s not 1955, right?’

‘I know, Alex. But drama and tension are what get clicks, it’s what gets attention. He can’t seem to get past that.’

‘So, what? He wants to bring Darren Chase into the show to just … disagree with everything I say and cause drama? As some sort of cheap entertainment?’

‘It would appear so. Look, it was just something he mentioned. I’d know if he planned on making any decisions. But if Darren smells even a hint of a possibility that Mark will give him the gig, then we both know he’s going to do everything he can to make it happen. Even if that means playing dirty, which is why I’m telling you this now. I just want you to be … prepared.’

‘How could Mark do this? What about Goldie? What about what she wanted?’

‘Well, nobody has heard from Goldie in weeks. We don’t even know where she is. She’s gone completely MIA. Maybe Mark sees this as his chance to pounce.’

I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, trying my best to stop the rage from taking over before I said something I regretted. I wanted to cry. And scream. And march into Mark’s office and tell him to his face how entirely mediocre I found him. Of course, men in this industry were allowed to be mediocre. They could survive decades of mediocrity, collecting pay rises and respect along the way. Women, however? No, we had to be excellent. And if we weren’t excellent immediately? See ya later.

I didn’t want to cry in front of Leo. And I was scared that if I opened my eyes I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. So instead, I kept them shut and asked to be left alone.

‘How about I just sit here with you in silence for a minute or two?’

I took some slow, deep breaths. As I sat there, I imagined how many women in this company, this industry, this bloody universe, had sat down, closed their eyes and tried not to cry. How many had felt diminished and disrespected in their workplace, unable to let their anger out for fear of being labelled ‘emotional’ or ‘dramatic’.

‘Fuck this shit,’ I said out loud, before clearing my throat and deciding that sadness was going to help nobody. After all, I wasn’t sad. I was livid. I opened my eyes.

Leo stood and held out a hand to help me up. ‘You look amazing, by the way.’

Another little jolt of excitement. I really wished my body didn’t do that every time he paid me a compliment. I centred myself and looked at him squarely. ‘I know. Now, let’s not let Darren and Mark ruin a fun night of small talk with industry people whose names we don’t remember.’

Leo threw his head back and laughed. ‘Well, at least I have the excuse of not living here for the past decade.’

A minute later we were getting comfortable at our table. I poured myself and Leo a glass of pinot noir, but before I had the chance to put the bottle down I was interrupted by a familiar voice behind me.

‘I’ll have one of those too, thanks, Ms York.’

I swung around. Finley was beaming at me, Tom at his side. He enveloped me in a huge hug, kissing my hair before proceeding to pinch my cheeks as if I was a baby. ‘Scooch over and make some room, will ya?’

Leo had already commandeered a chair that he wedged between Tom and my place settings at the table.

‘Finley, this is Leo. He works with us.’

Finley looked at me like I was crazy. ‘Mate, I’m a pop artist who lives in London. I know who fucking Leo Billings is. The King of Pulse! All right, mate? Good to see you again.’

Leo reached out across me and shook his hand. He was full of surprises.

‘I actually met Leo in the bathroom at the brITs a couple of years ago. I was about to walk out with my fly wide open. God knows the Daily Mail would have had some fun with that picture.’

Raucous laughter erupted around us. Unsurprisingly, the entire table was now listening to our conversation. I suppose that happens when you’re one of the most famous people on Earth.

I rocked my chair back to make eye contact with Tom behind Finley, giving him a questioning look.

‘He wanted to surprise us,’ Tom whispered. ‘Rock stars, am I right?’

He rolled his eyes, but I wasn’t convinced. Ever since he’d first seen Finley, something had been off. What was going on? He motioned to Leo. ‘I’m almost more surprised to see him here. Lucky I made you wear something fierce.’

I reached over and smacked him playfully. ‘Shut up!’ I whispered. ‘He had intel on Darren. I’ll fill you in later.’

Tom scrunched up his face in disgust.

We returned to the conversation to find Leo and Finley chatting away about streaming royalties.

‘Trust Leo to somehow get you talking about business in three seconds flat,’ I said cheekily.

Tom cleared his throat and mumbled something under his breath. While I didn’t understand what he’d said, I knew it was offensive. Everything made sense moments later with the appearance of Darren Chase, who had slithered over from whatever rock he’d been hiding under.

‘So, this is where all the cool kids are sitting, is it?’ Darren said. I’d never noticed how shiny his face was up close. I wondered if it was Botox or sweat or both. ‘Great to see you again, Finley! I haven’t seen you since LA last year.’

Finley’s face was completely blank. Silence hung in the air. It was clear Finley had no idea who Darren was. I hated Darren Chase but I hated awkward silences even more. I fiddled with my earrings, willing the moment to end. I was on the verge of saying something when Leo piped up.

‘Great to see you, Darren!’

Finley hopped back into action. ‘Yes, Darren—of course. How are ya, mate?’

The damage had already been done. It had been far too obvious to everyone at the table that Finley had no idea who Darren was. I wondered whether the whole situation had legitimately given Tom a hard-on. I subtly looked across to him, and he blew a chef’s kiss into the air.

Once Darren had scurried away, Tom and I burst out into giggles.

‘Leo, you are too nice for your own good,’ Tom said.

‘I have a feeling our friend here knows exactly who he was talking to,’ Leo whispered loudly, raising his eyebrows towards Finley.

Finley grinned. ‘Of course I know who Darren Chase is. I just think he’s an absolute cockhead. And while I can’t insult someone to their face, I can pretend I don’t know who they are. When it comes to people like him, that’s the worst insult of all.’

I wanted to lean over and kiss him on the mouth.

‘He once said in a magazine article that he “discovered me”. Sorry, what? Plus, a little birdie told me he disrespected you, York. So he can get in the bin.’ He raised an eyebrow at Tom, who gave a triumphant look.

I remembered what Cameron had told me in the lift. To keep my eyes on the prize and block out the noise. To do what I do best. To maintain my self-respect. I wouldn’t have to play dirty to defeat the Marks and Darrens of the world. Especially when I had backup like this.

Finley was soon whisked away, leaving me to fill in Tom on what Leo had told me. If he’d hated Darren before our conversation, then he hated him even more now.

‘Can’t you do something, Leo? Say something?’ Tom pleaded.

‘Believe me, I’ve made it more than clear to Mark that I think it’s a bad idea. The best thing we can do now is to make sure the show rates. If there’s one thing he can’t argue with, it’s numbers.’

Tom made a disgusted face. ‘Ugh, boring.’

‘The show will rate,’ I declared. ‘I know it will.’

‘I agree,’ said Leo, holding up his glass of pinot towards me. We clinked glasses and both took a sip, holding eye contact. Tom cleared his throat next to me, which was his way of saying he’d clocked the prolonged stare and he would be interrogating me about it later. But this time, I was resolute on being the one keeping a secret from him for a change.

As mains were served, Miles bounded up onto the stage and once again introduced the guest of honour. Finley rarely did acoustic sets anymore, so I was surprised when the lights dimmed and he reappeared with a guitar in hand and settled himself on a simple stool, looking out at the crowd as if he were at some sort of regional open mic night.

‘Is that lobster I see?’ He strained his eyes under the stage lights, trying to get a better look at the food. A couple of cheers rang out, confirming his suspicion. ‘You know,’ he continued, his eyes twinkling with laughter even as he adopted a soulful expression, ‘there’s a place in New York that serves up the best lobster mac ’n’ cheese on the planet.’ He was strumming the guitar as he mused aloud. ‘I once ate nothing but their lobster mac ’n’ cheese and drank nothing but French champagne for a whole weekend. I suppose I don’t need to clarify that it was a hotel … and we didn’t leave the bedroom.’

Cheers and whoops rang out from every direction. The crowd was loving it.

But for me it felt like time had slowed. All of a sudden it seemed blindingly obvious. Lobster mac ’n’ cheese. French champagne. New York. Hotel. I peeked across to look at Tom, who was white as a ghost. He stared at the table in front of him, obviously aware that the penny had dropped. I had never felt so stupid in my life.

‘Oh. My. Fucking. God,’ I whispered slowly. ‘You!’

Finley was playing by now, and under the cover of darkness Tom stood up and headed towards the lifts.

I sat there, frozen. Finley and Tom. Tom and Finley. They’d always been friends, but friends didn’t spend the weekend holed up in an expensive hotel eating lobster mac ’n’ cheese and drinking champagne. On my credit card. Also, that was eighteen months ago. How long had they been hiding this from me? And … why? My head was spinning. Finley continued to play, the blinding lights obscuring Tom’s quick departure.

I got up to leave and felt a hand grab my arm, pulling me back to my seat.

Leo leaned in to whisper in my ear. ‘Let him go. Just give him space.’

I stared back at him, confused.

‘He obviously has his reasons for not telling you,’ Leo said in a hushed voice.

What the hell was Leo talking about? Why was he acting like he knew what was going on? I stared back at him for a moment. His eyes were full of kindness. Compassion. Calm.

‘You knew?’ I asked.

He leaned in again. ‘I saw them in the hotel corridor the night you all went out in London. I was on my way to your room to see if you’d come home.’

Oh my God. I couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

‘Do they know that you know?’ I asked frantically.

Leo shook his head. ‘Nope. I never mentioned it. Not my secret to tell, I suppose. I thought you might know. That’s why I asked whether you and Finley were together. When you said you were all like family, I realised you didn’t know.’

I couldn’t believe Tom had never mentioned it. He’d carried on acting like the three of us were mates. The three musketeers. And then what? They were sneaking off behind my back and hooking up? I mean, I understood why they would want to keep it a secret from the world. But me? That I couldn’t understand. Under the table, Leo reached across and softly placed a hand on my knee. I instantly felt steadied. I took some deep breaths and looked up at Finley, still there wooing the crowd, unaware that he’d inadvertently revealed to me whatever secret he and Tom had been keeping. I wondered if they were in love. If they were exclusive. I always knew Finley’s sexuality was firmly in the ‘ambiguous’ column but, as far as I was aware, he’d hardly been celibate. My phone vibrated. It was Tom.

Come downstairs. I can explain.

I showed Leo.

‘Just listen to what he has to say. And remember, Alex, it’s not about you,’ he said gently.

While it hurt to hear the truth spoken so bluntly, it was a truth that I needed to hear. I took a couple of calming breaths and made my way towards the lifts.

Tom was waiting for me on the street below. He was pacing up and down across the entrance, wringing his hands. I quickened my step, opened my arms and enveloped him in the biggest hug I could muster. After a moment I pulled back and looked him in the eye. ‘I love you, and you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But also—what the actual fuck?’

He took a step back, wrapping his arms around himself. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I should have told you.’

‘Are you guys like, together? Do you just have sex every now and then? What’s going on? And why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you think you can trust me?’ The questions were tumbling out of my mouth, but then I remembered Leo’s advice. ‘Sorry. This isn’t about me. What I mean is … would you like to explain to me what’s happening? If not, I understand. I’m just shocked. That’s all.’

Tom took a deep breath. ‘Well, obviously I fell in love with him the moment he walked into our studio for the first time. But who didn’t, right?’

‘This is true.’ I nodded my head in serious agreement.

‘But nothing happened until New York. He messaged me after the junket and suggested we have a drink at our hotel. One thing led to another. “Another” being … the greatest weekend of my life. At first I thought it was just a fling, but a month later we were still texting and calling. Remember that time I went to Bali to stay in that bougie villa my dad rented?’

My eyes lit up. ‘With the infinity pool that overlooked the ocean? Yes, how could I forget.’

‘Yeah, well, I wasn’t there with my dad. In fact, pretty much every holiday I’ve taken since New York has been with Finley. I once flew to Japan on a long weekend to hang out with him in Tokyo. I told you I was in the Blue Mountains with no phone reception.’

I was amazed. I shook my head in slow, giddy disbelief. ‘You’re like an international spy!’

‘Pretty much.’

‘So, are you together?’

‘It’s complicated. Finley wants us to be together. In fact, he wants to go public.’

‘And you don’t even want your best friend to know about your love life … let alone the entire world.’

He finally made eye contact, and there was a desperate fear in his eyes. ‘Exactly. And what if his career tanks? I mean I know we all like to believe a gay man can still be a hetero sex symbol but … I don’t want to be the reason people stop buying his records. Alex, I’m fucking petrified. I have no idea what to do! I cut things off between us for good last week and told him not to contact me anymore. What does he do? Hops on a fucking plane. He’s insane!’

I stepped back towards him, took him into my arms and spoke softly into his ear. ‘My darling. It doesn’t sound like he’s insane. It sounds to me like he’s in love.’

I felt Tom nod. I rubbed his back and held him until I felt him relax. Behind him, I saw Leo walk tentatively towards us from the lifts.

I cleared my throat and stepped back, looking meaningfully over Tom’s shoulder at Leo as I said quietly, ‘Leo knows, by the way. He saw you two in the hotel in London.’

Tom stiffened and his mouth dropped open. ‘He did? And he didn’t tell you?’

I shook my head.

‘Wow. He really isn’t the arsehole we thought he was, hey?’

I shook my head again.

Tom called out over his shoulder, ‘The coast is clear, Leo, you can join the huddle! We’re just discussing the fact that the hottest man on the planet is, for some bizarre reason, completely obsessed with me and how I’m so freaked out about the situation that I dumped him. Three times.’

I burst into laughter. Tom followed suit.

Leo looked relieved and amused as he reached us. ‘Finley is looking for you both. I told him something work-related had come up and you had to take a call. I was very convincing.’

Tom put his hands together in the prayer position and bowed dramatically towards Leo like a very camp yogi. The three of us walked back towards the elevators, Tom and I holding hands and Leo following close behind.

‘So what do I do now?’ Tom asked as we waited for the doors to open.

I glanced back at Leo, hoping he had some wisdom to impart.

‘Well, that depends, mate. Do you love him?’

Tears welled up in Tom’s eyes. He looked at me, and then at Leo, and whispered, ‘Yep.’

‘But you’re scared?’

‘Terrified.’

‘Well then, you have to choose. Love or fear.’

The elevator door opened, and for a moment or two none of us moved.

Love or fear. The question swirled around in my head.

And then, with a loud sigh, Tom took a step forwards. Leo and I followed his lead, and we headed back into the party.

After dessert, Finley and Tom slipped out separately, and the next musical act took to the stage: an artist called Stella I’d seen once before. She was still a teenager, with a Stevie Nicks-esque voice and the long blonde hair to match. She held a guitar that looked huge in her arms, and next to her on stage were a double bass and violin. She finished her first song to rapturous applause as I slipped away, still overwhelmed from the evening’s revelations.

‘Are you all right?’ I heard Leo’s voice behind me as I stepped out onto the deserted pool deck, the breeze cool on my face. Inside, Stella started singing another ballad.

I looked back. ‘I just felt like some air, that’s all. Care to join me?’

‘I would, yes,’ he replied, as he stepped towards me, his face softening into a smile. That smile.

I was sure nobody else had even noticed me slink out of the room, and yet here Leo was, appearing before me in the moonlight, making sure I was okay. I stared back at him, the darkness giving me silent permission to take him in a little more.

He reached a hand towards me. ‘Care to dance?’ he asked, his head slightly tilted to the side.

The invitation surprised me. If he was so sure that the universe had already intervened once to stop anything from happening between us, surely asking me to dance on a deserted pool deck underneath the stars was playing with fire.

And yet, I watched my hand reach out to grab his almost automatically, as he pulled me ever so gently towards him, his other hand on the small of my back. Exactly where it had been in the elevator in his hotel, the same jolt of energy running up my spine as had happened that night when his fingertips brushed against my skin.

‘Thank you for your help tonight,’ I said quietly, looking over his shoulder back towards the party.

‘I’m always happy to help you, Alex. You know that,’ he replied in a whisper, moving his head closer to mine, my chin tucking closer into his neck.

And that’s the thing. I did know that he would always help. It was just how he was. I sighed in quiet agreement, unable to find the right words to say back. Instead, I did my best to breathe steadily as we swayed to the music. Once again, it seemed that Leo’s guard was down and he was letting me in to some quiet moment of intimacy. I savoured every second, not wanting to speak for fear of ruining it.

‘This is nice. It’s been a long time since I’ve danced. With anybody,’ Leo murmured wistfully.

I wondered if he was thinking about Laney, about the last time they danced together. Whether him pulling me close was his way of pretending she was still here.

‘Do you miss her … all the time?’ I asked tentatively.

He squeezed my hand. ‘I do, yes. But that doesn’t mean I’m sad or angry all the time. I was at first, but … she never would have wanted that.’

I gently squeezed his hand back, and a moment later he continued. ‘I’m trying. To be happy again.’

Was he trying to tell me something? Or was he just answering my question honestly? I couldn’t tell. ‘You deserve to be happy again,’ I replied.

He pulled his head back a little, his eyes searching my face for a moment before staring straight into my eyes.

‘Alex …’ His voice trembled.

‘Yes?’

And then a loaded pause. I could tell he was holding his breath. Nervous. The music inside swelled, the sounds of violin filling the air. I closed my eyes, too unsure of where to look or what to do. When I opened them again, the look on his face was different. He was somewhere else. The moment had escaped us. He shrugged, almost apologetically.

Maybe I shouldn’t have brought up Laney. Maybe I shouldn’t have danced with him in the first place. We swayed in silence for another couple of minutes, and when the music stopped Leo gently led me back inside, where not a single soul had even noticed we’d been gone.

I stared out the window of the taxi home that night, replaying our conversation over and over, wondering what had happened, where things had gone wrong. Feeling silly for imagining that something was about to happen, that perhaps he was about to kiss me. Feeling even sillier for maybe really wanting him to.