Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Joshua
There were only two flats on the top floor of the residences, and so the light footsteps in the outside hallway were most likely Hartford’s.
Except she shouldn’t be back for another hour. I checked my phone. More like an hour and a half. There was no way she’d ditch a date so quickly. I stalked toward my front door and pressed my ear to the wood. Nothing. It must have been a cleaner. Or a staff member checking something.
And then I definitely heard the grind of a key going into a lock. I flung open the door to find Hartford letting herself in across the corridor.
“You ditched a date after half an hour and thought I wouldn’t catch you creeping back in?” I shook my head, gleeful at the thought the shoe was firmly laced up on the other foot now. “I don’t know, Hartford, you can’t even hold down a conversation for two hours with someone.”
She didn’t turn around as she opened the door. “Actually, I’m not feeling very well. I’ll catch you later.” She slid inside and closed the door.
Confusion and shame mixed in my gut. I’d been joking. Had I offended her? I took my phone and typed out a message.
Sorry for assuming the worst. Hope you’re okay.
After five minutes, she hadn’t responded.
But that was understandable if she was throwing up or . . . stuck on the loo.
After fifteen minutes, she still hadn’t responded and I got worried. I texted again.
Can I get you anything? Or send for a doctor?
I’m fine, she responded.
At least she was alive. I ordered some cupcakes from Dragonfly and then instantly regretted it. If she had an upset stomach, buttercream wasn’t going to help.
I paced. Hartford hadn’t mentioned anything about not feeling well when she was waiting for David to arrive. In fact, she’d texted me to say she couldn’t believe the bar was charging thirty-five pounds for a cocktail. That meant either the cocktail had made her sick . . .
Or her date had.
Patience had never been my strong suit, and I wasn’t about to change now. I wanted to know what had happened.
I slipped out of my flat and across the hall. I resisted the urge to bang on her front door. Instead, I tapped out another text. Want some company?
No response.
Well aware I was being a pushy bastard, I knocked on the door.
I waited. And waited. But I heard her come to the other side of the door.
“What do you want, Joshua? I’m going to have an early night.”
I could hear the sadness in her voice. It wasn’t the Hartford I knew, and I wanted to know what was going on. “Tell me what happened?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Really, it’s absolutely not important—” Her voice caught and she fell silent.
Dread twisted in my gut at the tone of her voice. Something terrible had happened. I’d never seen her like this. “Did he hurt you?”
“God, no. Nothing like that. All I have is a bruised ego.”
Thank goodness she wasn’t physically hurt. But I didn’t like the idea that any part of her was bruised. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m fine. There are people worse off—I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“Stop,” I said. “You’re allowed to be sad, Hartford.
If you can’t be upset because there are worse off people in the world, then by your logic, you can’t be happy unless you’re the happiest person in the world.
Your situation might not be tragic, but it doesn’t mean you don’t need a shoulder to cry on and a piece of cake to eat. ”
The urge to pull the door from its hinges and wrap my arms around her was close to overwhelming.
I just wanted to hold her.
“I’m okay, Joshua, but thank you for checking on me.”
What could I do? I wanted to take away whatever it was that was making her sad.
But I couldn’t beat down the door and demand she smile.
Could I? “Okay, well, I’m going to stay here for a while and if you want to talk, I’m just the other side of the door.
If you don’t want to talk, I’m still just the other side of the door. ”
I leaned against the wall, ready to stay for a while. I needed her to know I was nearby if she needed me.
“I’m being ridiculous,” she said eventually.
“Impossible.”
“He didn’t do anything. In some ways he was kinder to just . . . you know.” She sighed. “I just need a dose of Bravo and a good night’s sleep.”
The lift doors pinged open and one of the porters from the residences appeared, holding a box of cupcakes. “Well, I could add a cupcake to that mix if it helps?” I took the box and nodded a silent thank-you.
“You have cake?” Her voice was still flat but she answered a little quicker than she had done before.
“I do. You want me to leave them in front of the door?”
After a bit of rustling, the door creaked open. “Come in,” she said. Her eyes were puffy and red rimmed. She’d definitely been crying.
I’d kill David when I found him.
I caught the door before it swung closed and followed her into the sitting room. “You want plates?”
“I need water. You want a glass?”
I followed her to the kitchen and slid the tray of cupcakes onto the island. “Water would be great.”
She handed me a glass and her gaze slid to the cakes. “Is there a cookies and cream one?”
I pinged open the lid. “Looks like there are three.”
She climbed up onto a bar stool, which brought her almost to the same height as me. “That should do it.”
I didn’t think I’d ever seen her actually finish a whole cupcake. Things must be bad if she was thinking about eating three. I pulled in a breath, trying to rein in my need to find out what the hell was going on.
“I don’t want to make a big thing about this.” She reached for a cake and turned it around in her hands, as if trying to decide which bit she was going to eat first.
“Okay.” I leaned on the counter next to her seat, bracing myself for what came next.
She scooped a tiny bit of frosting from the cake and popped it into her mouth and sighed. “He arrived, ordered a drink, then after about two minutes, said he wasn’t interested and left.”
I clenched my fists and did my best to keep my thoughts to myself. What. A. Twat.
At least he hadn’t touched her. The guy was an idiot for not being interested in Hartford. But that had to be his loss. I wouldn’t let it affect her. “Tell me everything from the beginning.”
I stayed as still as I could, trying to keep my face blank and my breathing steady while she told me the entire, very short, story.
“He did me a favor, really. At least I didn’t waste my evening.”
No, it was far worse. That arsehole had ruined her evening and her confidence. “He’s a dickhead.”
“He was just being honest.” She was trying to let him off the hook but I could tell by her sad eyes that cake wasn’t enough to erase what he’d done.
“He was rude,” I replied. “He could have stayed and had a drink.”
“What, and faked an emergency after an hour? Would that have been better?”
“I don’t know.” What was the matter with him?
Couldn’t he see how amazing Hartford was?
Not that he’d had a chance to get to know her.
“He should have realized he was bloody lucky to go on a date with you. You’re clever and funny and beautiful.
He doesn’t deserve you if he can’t stick around long enough to find out how bloody great you are. ”
She looked from her cake to me and scrunched up her nose in a you-have-to-say-that expression. “You’re excellent BFF material. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
“I’m serious. You have so much going for you, and he wasn’t man enough to stay and find out. So that’s his loss. And fuck Mulberry. I’m going to drop them as a client.”
Hartford laughed and the sound tugged at the corners of my lips. “You are not going to drop Mulberry as a client.”
She was probably right. “I’ll find a way to make him pay.”
“He didn’t break my heart, Joshua. You’re very sweet, but really, I think you’re more upset than I am at this point. I’ve had two mouthfuls of cake and I’m feeling a lot better.”
“You are?” I asked. She seemed to have brightened up a little. “Well, at least I can make you laugh.”
And then all of a sudden, those sad eyes were back.
“It’s my own fault. I didn’t exactly put in a lot of effort.
I assumed a bit of mascara and something other than scrubs would be enough.
But I guess most guys are looking for contouring—whatever that is.
And a fake tan and eyelash extensions. I’m never going to be that girl who looks like she just stepped out of a magazine.
My arse is always going to be slightly too big, my hair unwieldy in the rain, my smile a little sideways.
When it comes down to it, I just don’t care enough to do anything with make-up that takes more than five minutes. ”
It was true that Hartford didn’t spend time or effort on make-up or some of the other glamorous things certain women did, but that didn’t make her any less stunning in my book.
And whatever she wore wouldn’t make her any funnier, kinder, or more interesting.
Those were the things I appreciated about her most, liked about her most .
. . All things about her that I didn’t want to lose.
“What are you talking about? Your arse is perfectly . . .” I didn’t know a good way to finish that sentence without sounding like a dick. And her hair was gorgeous whenever I’d seen it down, which wasn’t very often.
She tilted her head. “Joshua . . .” she said, her tone warning me not to bullshit her.
“I mean it!” How did she not see I was being completely serious? I put down my glass and turned to face her. “You don’t need bloody contouring or any of that . . . stuff.” For a guy who was meant to be smooth, I couldn’t find the words to convince her.
She rolled her eyes. “He was just being honest and—”
Before I could overthink it, I stepped closer, closing the distance between us, cupped her face in my hands and pressed my lips to hers. My heart raced like it was freewheeling downhill from the top of a mountain, and my fingertips buzzed like I’d brushed a live wire.
And then a firm hand at my chest pushed me away.