Chapter 20
20
VIPERS NIGHTCLUB, DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN
What was she doing? She was watching her brother’s billionaire boss, one of the world’s most eligible bachelors, give someone the brush off… again… for her. Her heart was thumping hard. Was she completely out of her mind? She had learned her lesson about starting a relationship in this nightclub ten years ago. It was not somewhere to begin anything. It was jinxed. And she was not in the market for anything. Not drinks with completely unsuitable men. No matter how hot they were. And he was hot. Every inch she could see… and probably all the inches she couldn’t see but could imagine. This was craziness.
She moved then, quickly, heading across the floor towards a tall, shaven-haired man in his forties wearing a white shirt, his body the width of a Sherman tank. He was chewing gum and had an earpiece in. A doorman might remember Michel. He could have been working here ten years ago. She slipped the photograph out of her clutch bag.
‘Excuse me,’ she shouted above the music.
He leant forward, lining up the ear without the earpiece to her mouth .
‘I was wondering if you might have seen this man.’ She offered out the photograph. ‘He used to come in here, a lot I think, and… I’m looking for him.’
The doorman took hold of the photo and squinted his eyes at the picture.
‘You his wife?’ he asked.
‘No… of course not,’ Hayley responded, guilt coating her tone anyway.
He handed the photo back. ‘I’m not sure. I see a lot of people, sweet cheeks.’
‘I realise that.’ She sighed. ‘It’s just… really important I get in touch with him so…’ She pushed the photo back into his line of sight. ‘If you could have another look.’
The doorman glanced back towards the photo and shook his head. ‘He’s not familiar to me, sorry. You should ask Artie, on the bar.’ He sniffed. ‘But he’s not on tonight.’
Hayley tightened her grip on the glass she was holding and forced a smile onto her lips. ‘Thank you.’
She turned away and saw Oliver heading back towards her. He had to negotiate several groups of people. If she moved now, she could be out of the door in seconds. She could disappear into the night like he had from the alleyway at the back of Asian Dawn. But that wasn’t in her nature. Besides, she was starting to think there was a bit more to Oliver Drummond. An ogre-like control freak wouldn’t have just given her brother the head role in the launch of their new lead product.
And why shouldn’t she enjoy herself for an hour or so? If a billionaire wanted to buy her drinks, who was she to stop him?
He neared, navigating the groups of people quickly. She would have one drink. And then she would move on to showing the bartenders the photo of Michel.
He was smiling as he approached and she felt its warmth settle on her. He spread out his hand, indicating the tables to their left in the quieter area of the club.
‘Shall we?’ he asked.
‘Lead the way, Clark.’
‘So, billionaire businessman, how does that happen?’
He smiled, watching her take a long sip of her drink, all bright eyes and enthusiasm.
‘Haven’t you seen Fifty Shades of Grey ?’ he answered.
She looked up then, a blush on her cheeks as her eyes met his. ‘I’m not sure explaining Christian Grey’s business position was the aim of that movie or the books.’
He leaned forward in his chair, holding her gaze. ‘What do you want to know?’
He watched her swallow, wet her lips.
‘Whether any of the rooms in your house are red now.’
He laughed, pure, deep and unfettered. His stomach contracted with the motion, unaccustomed to it. He adopted a more serious look before responding. ‘And if they are?’
‘Each to their own, but it’s not for me. I went to an Ann Summers party once and got a little jittery when they said some of the items were refurbished.’
He smiled. Honesty. No game-playing. This was refreshing.
He took a swig of his beer. ‘I inherited the company from my father.’
‘Old money. So, I guess that makes you a duke?’
‘Not that I’m aware of, but that would be kind of cool.’
‘And different from the whole Superman dress up. Do you really do that by the way? ’
He grinned, lacing his hands around his beer bottle. ‘Only on weekends.’
‘In the red room.’
‘And I thought that was going to stay my secret.’
It was her turn to laugh then and he delighted in the way she gave into it, her cheeks rising up, her eyes narrowing in pleasure. Suddenly, his libido was on high alert. He fingered the paper label on the bottle, picking at a strip.
‘Unfortunately, the day job gets in the way of the saving the city full time.’ He smiled. ‘Without the aid of tight costumes, my father helped to revolutionise the computer industry in the 1980s. I spent a lot of my childhood watching him solder motherboards together.’
‘Is that a good thing or a bad thing?’
‘Back then, I would rather have spent my time watching NFL.’
‘And now?’
He nodded. ‘Yeah, pretty much still feel that way for the most part.’
‘So you’re not all work, work, work, then?’
Now the unease rolled into his shoulders as he thought about the job he did. The billions of pounds he played with, the employees he was responsible for. It was a burden. He didn’t love it like his father. He wasn’t exceptional like his brother. He was doing his best but he was hanging everything on the Globe. Failure wasn’t an option. He had to make that work or he didn’t know what came next.
He smiled, regaining his composure, hopefully before she had even realised it had diminished. ‘All work and no play isn’t my style.’
‘If only your staff could hear you now.’
The vodka and cranberry was doing strange things to her tongue. She liked to talk but she wasn’t usually this good at shooting herself in the foot every time words fell out of her mouth.
‘Was my name bandied around the dinner table along with the wine you couldn’t pronounce the name of?’
The tone of his voice had an edge to it and she quickly shook her head. ‘No, of course not. Dean isn’t like that.’ She hurried on. ‘He’s a hard worker and he’s the most intelligent person I know. And he’s very discreet. Completely discreet. Always has been.’ She hoped she had salvaged this.
‘Hopefully, he won’t be discreet when he brings the Globe to market. I want more press than a red carpet event at the Oscars.’
‘And I wouldn’t mind one of the dresses.’
Her fingers went to the hair clip on the front of her dress then across to the cut-off shoulders she hadn’t had time to hem. She cleared her throat. ‘None of those in my luggage. Anything with Swarovski crystals would completely eat into the baggage allowance.’
He smiled, seemed to drop his eyes to Angel’s hair clip on her dress. It had looked funky in the mirror at Dean’s apartment; now it felt trashy. Not that she cared. Because she was completely disinterested in men. This man in particular. Who was rude and abandoned dates and was definitely not giving her any kind of hot flush whatsoever.
‘So, you’re just visiting?’ he asked.
‘I think so…’ She wet her lips. ‘I didn’t mean that,’ she corrected. ‘I meant to say, yes.’
He looked quizzical then.
‘I’ve got a return ticket for just after New Year.’
His gaze was unsettling her now. She pulled at a petal on the hair clip. ‘School starts back in January.’ She swallowed. ‘You know I have a daughter. The one your PA probably told you went on and on about you being an eligible bachelor.’
She really needed to stop talking now.
‘And she was getting very talkative about the lobsters at the restaurant the other night,’ he said.
Hayley looked up, a smile on her face. ‘You heard that?’
‘To be honest, it was pretty hard not to,’ he said with a wry smile.
‘Yeah, she’s loud and opinionated and too clever for her own good.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Angel,’ Hayley said.
‘It’s pretty.’
‘I think she would rather be named after someone from history now she’s nine. Every day, I wait for the forms to change her name to Boudicca.’
Oliver laughed hard and her insides took note. He had a nice laugh; it wasn’t false or pretentious, it was warm and genuine. She had trouble believing this man was the mean tyrant who ruled with a rod of iron. Not that you could tell anything from a laugh. She clamped her lips to her glass.
‘So, talking of names…’ he started.
‘Yes, Clark.’
‘I can’t carry on calling you Lois.’
‘Why not? Don’t you like an air of mystery?’
‘You know my name.’
‘Not all of it.’
He sat back in his chair and looked confused. ‘What?’
‘I don’t know your middle name.’ She sucked at her drink. ‘If you’re almost a duke you have to have at least one middle name. I think it’s royal law or something.’
Oliver shook his head vehemently but he was enjoying every second of this repartee. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d engaged in anything like it. Most of the time, when he was looking for some female distraction, it involved small talk he needed to put no effort into. Say they look nice. Ask about their job. Flatter them. Here, with Lois, he was fully in the moment, not because he needed to prove he could be, simply because he wanted to be. A ripple ran through him. That thought scared the shit out of him.
He moved, leaning his elbows on the table, shifting forward in his seat and looking directly at Hayley.
‘OK, so are we doing a deal here? Because I’m quite the negotiator.’
‘You must want to know my name really badly.’
‘Maybe I do.’ Did he? They’d only had two conversations.
‘You first,’ she said as the music lowered and a softer track began to filter.
‘Which one d’you want?’
Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ and he couldn’t help his lips, moving upwards in a grin at her reaction.
She licked her lips, rolling the straw in her drink between her thumb and forefinger. ‘I think I’m going to have to have both. Don’t tell me there are more than two.’
‘Just two.’
‘Phew.’
‘But if you want them both, you’re going to have to give me your first name and something else.’
She folded her arms across her chest. ‘Just because I don’t have two middle names? What sort of negotiation is that?’
‘The only one I’m willing to agree to. ’
‘And…’ She paused to suck a little harder on her drink. ‘What’s this other thing you want?’
He had said the words so many times. Maybe too many times. Yet, somehow this time, he really wanted to know. He stripped another piece of label from the beer bottle, his eyes not leaving hers. He took a breath. ‘If you could make one wish, what would it be?’
‘Is one of your middle names “genie”?’
‘I’m being serious.’
‘Me too.’
‘Neither of my middle names until you answer.’
The way he was looking at her was making her insides squirm like she had a belly full of snakes. Was he for real? Her hands straight away went to her silver clutch bag, settling over the clasp. She could tell him she wanted a dress like Lady Gaga’s or even to make a dress for Lady Gaga; that would be giving him something real. But it wouldn’t be the truth. Because there was only one thing she wanted at the moment. And was she really about to share that with Dean’s boss?
Hayley took a deep breath, closed her eyes and let the words come out in a rush of breath.
‘My name’s Hayley and I wish to find the guy I had a one-night stand with ten years ago.’
She flicked open her eyes to gauge Oliver’s reaction. He was looking back at her, no emotion evident, his fingers toying with the paper he’d ripped from the bottle.
Her heart was hammering in her chest as he still made no move to respond. What was there to say now? She had turned flirtatious banter into Desperation Central .
He took a swig of beer from his bottle and placed it back down on the table. ‘Richard and Julian.’ He nodded. ‘Now we’re even.’