CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
‘You haven’t taken in a word I’ve just said, have you?’
Jolted from my lovely trance, I realised he was laughing at me.
‘No, I was listening!’ I protested. ‘Really. I was.’
‘Yes, yes. I think someone has had a little too much to drink,’ he said gently. ‘Look, I’ll get the bill.’ Smiling, he looked around for our waiter and signalled to him.
When I stood up, I swayed. But I held onto the back of the chair to steady myself and managed to walk in a fairly straight line to the door. I got there before Dan, which I was quite pleased about. Drunk, me? No way!
Unfortunately, it turned out to be the door to the kitchens.
But after my initial confusion, Dan managed to steer me seamlessly in the right direction.
In the lift, I sort of stumbled against him. But he chuckled and put his hand round my waist, so I don’t think I offended him. Then the lift bumped to a stop on the first floor but there was no one there.
I found this hilarious for some reason.
‘It’s Mr and Mrs Invisible! We’d better move along to let them in.’
Even Dan was laughing as I squashed him sideways to make room for the people who weren’t there. Then we both reached to press the lift button at the same time and somehow got tangled up.
As the lift lurched upwards, I suddenly felt something hard and bulbous pressing into my hip. I looked up at him, shocked.
‘Mr Darcy!’
It was out before I could stop it.
‘The aerosol,’ he said calmly, removing a travel-size anti-perspirant canister from his trouser pocket and holding it up. ‘I kept forgetting to give you it. So tonight, I put it in my pocket.’ He grinned down at me. ‘Did you just call me Mr Darcy?’
‘What? No!’ I gulped in dismay. ‘No, of course I didn’t.’ I gave a hearty laugh to emphasise just how riotous a joke it was. ‘No, I said . . . I said Lordamercy!’
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
I shrugged as warmth surged into my cheeks. ‘Old-fashioned expression. Gran said it all the time. Short for “Lord have mercy”?’
He was studying me as if I was an interesting but rather baffling science experiment.
‘And I was going to say, “Lordamercy! What on earth is that thing you have in your pocket?”’
‘Right.’ He nodded. ‘I see.’
I slumped against him in relief. I seemed to have got away with it.
‘Freda called me Mr Darcy last night,’ he murmured. ‘Must be the dark hair and the fact I’m tall.’
‘Ah, yes. It must be.’ I nodded enthusiastically.
‘So you did call me Mr Darcy?’
‘What? No!’
His mouth kinked up at one corner.
‘Oh, eff off!’
‘Charming,’ he murmured, but he was smiling.
‘I think I need coffee.’ I shook my head to try and focus properly. ‘But I’m afraid I might set the room on fire or something.’
‘Would you like me to make it for you?’ he offered patiently, as if he was talking to a five-year-old.
‘Yes, please. Oh, where’s my key? Damn, I’ve left it on the table.’
Smiling, he shook his head and guided me out into the corridor. ‘Wait there. Don’t move. I’ll get your key.’ He got back into the lift. Then he hopped out again, handed me the aerosol, and got back in again.
I couldn’t be bothered to find the words to explain that I’d actually bought one, so instead I leaned against the wall, trying to look sexy.
He held up one hand, the lift doors closed and he was gone.
I heard voices coming along the corridor and I quickly straightened up. It was Freda and Jeremy, and I was so pleased to see that she seemed to have recovered from her bump on the head.
Jeremy was opening the door of a room a few along from mine. But when Freda saw me, she waved and then hurried over. And I asked her if she was all right now.
She said she was and that she was so grateful to Dan for taking charge and making sure she was all right.
I explained about the key and she nodded. ‘You’ve got such a lovely man there.’
I stared at her. Did she think we were a couple?
‘He is lovely. And he’s very . . . ’ I searched my pickled brain for a neutral word that would make her realise we weren’t together. ‘He’s very . . . helpful.’
She looked a bit surprised by that. But then she linked my arm confidingly and murmured, ‘Well, good for you!’
I laughed uncertainly. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I’ve always said age barriers don’t exist where romance is concerned. We more mature women are still very much in our prime, aren’t we? We’re still more than capable of catching the attention of a younger man.’ She stuck up an admiring thumb. ‘He’s gorgeous. You go for it, girl!’
Alarmed, I stared at her. ‘But it’s nothing like that!’
She gave me a wicked smile. ‘Of course it isn’t, darling. Your secret is safe with me.’ She tapped the side of her nose, winked cheerfully and walked off.
Stunned, I watched Jeremy usher her into their room, my thoughts in an uproar.
Was that how Freda saw me? An older woman carrying on with a toyboy?
I felt quite sick, thinking about it.
Was that what everyone in the restaurant had been thinking?
Ooh, look at that sad old hag. Talk about mutton dressed as lamb. Do you think she’s paying that handsome young guy for sex?
The shock of her words had sobered me up more than a pint of black coffee could ever do!
Dan appeared with my key a moment later and instantly noticed the change in my mood.
‘Sorry I was so long,’ he said. ‘The waiter had taken your key back to reception.’
I shook my head. ‘It’s not that. Freda just said you looked like my toy boy.’
He laughed – far too loudly, I thought – and I glowered at him. Because it really wasn’t funny in the slightest.
‘Hey, relax.’ He smiled. ‘Some of my best friends are dating cougars.’
My horrified expression made him back-pedal immediately.
‘That was a joke, Lizzie! Of course you’re not a cougar. Whatever that is. You . . . look great, whatever your age.’
But all I could think was how stupid I was not to have seen what other people must have seen in that restaurant. What Freda had realised. I’d even been a little flirty with Dan in the lift! That had been because of the alcohol, of course. But how embarrassing. What on earth was I thinking?
I just wanted to go to my room and curl up in a ball on the bed and cry my eyes out with the shame of it . . .
‘Look, let’s get you that coffee,’ he said, opening my door for me.
‘It’s okay. I can manage,’ I told him, slurring slightly as I walked in. ‘We cougars are surprisingly good at boiling kettles.’
And I turned and shut the door in his face.