Chapter 22
22
Jess opened one eye and then quickly shut it again. She was far too fragile to deal with the obnoxious sunlight streaming into this foreign bedroom in which she’d wound up crashing the night before. She rubbed her temples, groaning out loud and telling herself that at her age, she really should know better. Her head felt as though an express train had mown into it sometime in the night. Actually, she corrected herself, make that morning, because it had been gone 1 a.m. when they’d left Esquires. Running her tongue across her teeth, she shuddered; her mouth felt like something furry had taken up residence in it.
Curling up into the foetal position, she clutched her stomach, feeling nauseous. She must have been poisoned – yes, that was all there was to it. Some naughty kitchen hand in charge of plating up the hors d’oeuvres that had been passed around from time to time last night and to which she’d helped herself to with relish hadn’t washed their hands after going to the toilet. She was the victim of someone else’s poor personal hygiene because the horrendous way she felt at this moment in time simply couldn’t be due to the mismatch of alcoholic beverages that had passed her oh-so receptive lips last night. God, she’d kill for a lemonade icy pole!
At least she was still dressed, she thought, risking a glance under the duvet, though—Oh, mortification! The dress had ridden up to her middle over the course of the night, leaving her undergarments in full view should anybody have decided to sneak a peek. Nora wouldn’t be impressed either at her ridiculously expensive LBD having been used as a nighty. Oh well, Jess decided as she heard the shower in the en-suite stop running. She had bigger things to worry about than Nora. Besides, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
The door to the bedroom opened, and she knew she was going to have to sit up and open her eyes. It was time to face the music – or rather, Nick Jameson.
He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and even in her current poorly state, Jess couldn’t help but notice the definition of his stomach muscles and the tiny curling tendrils of hair running from his navel down to his—She looked up, deciding to concentrate on the droplets of water still clinging to his wet hair instead. He really was rather gorgeous, she thought, suddenly becoming aware of the dishevelled vision she must be. Oh my God, I probably look like a red-headed Gene frigging Simmons ! She tried to nonchalantly calm her curls down by running her fingers through her hair.
‘Good morning, and how are you feeling?’ Nick grinned at her before turning away to sift through his wardrobe. ‘I think that last daiquiri caught up on you.’
Jess didn’t think he’d buy her ‘poisoned due to poor personal hygiene’ theory.
‘Um, I’ve been brighter, and I’m sorry I, uh…’
‘Fell asleep on me?’ He turned around, a coat hanger with a shirt and pair of dress pants in his hands. ‘Don’t worry about it. Although I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed.’ He winked at her.
Jess felt her stomach do a somersault, and this time it wasn’t down to the alcohol swishing around in it.
‘Would a coffee and a couple of painkillers help?’
‘Oh yes, please – a strong coffee and some extra-strength morphine should do it,’ she croaked, trying not to look as he dropped the towel and got dressed.
‘That bad, huh? I’ll be back in a sec.’
Nick left the room, and Jess took a moment to look around. The decor of the room suited him. It was in keeping with what she remembered having seen of the rest of his apartment when they’d arrived back last night to carry on their snogfest in privacy. She flushed, flashing back to how they’d tumbled on to his bed and how things had been getting very hot and heavy, or to use Nora’s turn of phrase, fruity—OH MY GOD! Another thought occurred to her. What must he think of her and her knickers? He’d got up to go to the bathroom, and she remembered thinking she should whip them off, but everything went kind of black after that so she must have fallen asleep. ‘God, you’re such a prize, Jessica Baré,’ she muttered, coming back to the present.
Nick’s bedroom was modern, minimalist and masculine all at the same time. But she didn’t have time to be sitting here admiring the white ambience of his boudoir, she told herself, grabbing her purse. After rummaging inside, she produced her compact and snapped it open, gazing at the woeful reflection staring back at her with distaste. Oh yes, the look she’d thrown together this morning was very much KISS. Humming ‘I Was Made for Lovin’ You’, she began rubbing at the black smudges under her eyes, noticing that her dramatic lips had long since disappeared and were now dry and cracked, oh and crap – was that dried dribble snaking down the side of her chin?
Nick reappeared as promised a few minutes later. Jess didn’t know why she was surprised he’d come back because it wasn’t as though he could do a runner; she was in his apartment, after all. He handed her a couple of what she hoped would be miracle pills and a cup of coffee. Clasping the mug with both hands, she inhaled the rich aroma gratefully. He must have one of those fancy coffee machines, she decided, and took a tentative sip, pleased it stayed down. She swallowed the tablets one after the other, willing them to take effect.
Nick looked amused as he sat down on the bed next to her. ‘Are you hungry? Because I do a mean rasher sandwich.’
Jess’s tummy rolled violently as Wilbur floated before her eyes. ‘Um, no – the coffee is fine, thanks.’
‘Sure?’
‘Sure.’
‘Look, I hate to have to do this, but I’ve got a meeting I have to be at for ten. I can drop you home on my way if you like?’
Jess glanced at the bedside table clock. It was already nine. She didn’t add, ‘So no chance of a bit of the old morning delight then?’ That would be sure to take her mind off the pain in her head. Mind you, in her current state, she wasn’t exactly looking or feeling like a femme fatale, and she supposed she should be grateful not to have to venture outside to loiter on street corners, waiting for public transport.
‘Yeah, that would be great, thanks, if it’s not putting you out?’
‘No, not at all.’
Jess finished her coffee as Nick told her about the meeting he was going to.
‘There’s a couple of stay-at-home mums – you know, the type that call themselves home executives?’ he sneered.
She didn’t know of any mothers who called themselves that, but she nodded anyway.
‘They’ve got far too much time on their hands, blocking the sale of this decrepit bloody community centre that’s a safety hazard anyway. I have to try to convince the council that they’re bored housewives with nothing better to do than hold up progress, and it is progress. Who wouldn’t rather add value to their property with luxury apartments in the neighbourhood instead of an eyesore of a public building?’
His voice was steely, and Jess remembered her conversation with Joe the night before.
Still, she thought, he was a businessman, and successful businessmen didn’t set out to make friends with everybody, nor could they afford to be sentimental. In his eyes, a building was bound to be just a building – bricks and mortar and no more. It was a good job Brianna wasn’t privy to his views on women who chose to stay home to look after their children, though. She’d have set Harry on him.
A phone rang somewhere in the living room, and Nick excused himself, giving her the opportunity to get out of bed, race to the bathroom to brush her teeth with her finger and run a comb through her bedraggled locks.
Thankfully she’d found a pair of dark glasses to don for the ride home, but when they pulled up outside Riverside Apartments, Nick took them off her. ‘You’ve got beautiful eyes; don’t hide them,’ he murmured.
Jess blushed, beginning to make a joke about how bloodshot they were, but he silenced her with a kiss.
‘I’d like to see you again,’ he said, coming up for air.
‘I’d like that, too.’
‘I’ve got business down in Kerry over the weekend and then I’ll be tied up for Monday and Tuesday dealing with this community centre crap, but things should be settling down mid-week. How about giving me a chance to show off my culinary prowess on, say, Wednesday night?’
He wanted to cook her dinner despite her having black teeth on their first date, falling asleep just before a crucial moment on their second date, not to mention exposing her support knickers and waking up looking like Morticia Addams with red hair!
‘That would be lovely,’ Jess breathed, getting out of the car and watching as it sped off down the Quays, a sleek grey bullet weaving its way through the morning traffic.
She was walking on air as she made her way across the courtyard to her building, not even minding when a familiar voice said, ‘Oi, love, you’re looking a bit rough on it this morning.’