Chapter 17
The last proper night out I had, as in not after work and not rushing home to look after my dad, was far too long ago, which is obvious given the show I make of getting ready.
From the appointment with the beauty salon to smarten up my waxing, washing and creaming my skin, giving all twenty nails a base coat, three colour coats and a top coat, and blow-drying my hair into a mousse-induced, high-volume do, I manage to fill the day.
‘You’re going to be late.’ Gregory appears, leaning against the doorframe of the walk-in wardrobe, watching me flick through my dresses in a fluster.
‘So now you do want me to go out.’
‘No. I’m making conversation so that I can enjoy the view.’
Looking down at my black, lace thong and matching bra, I bite my lip to stop my grin from giving me away. I’m still feigning my earlier mood. I shouldn’t have to be the one to apologise.
‘Smart Guy’s a conversationalist now?’
‘Shh, your mouthful of attitude is ruining my moment.’
I select a black, fitted dress with spaghetti straps that’s probably a little too short.
In fact, I’ve only ever worn it once because it’s so short but Amanda convinced me to spend too much money on it during a dry martini-fuelled shopping trip and given it has been a long time, I should make the effort.
I bend forward, fully aware of the lace thong slipping between my cheeks, and rummage through shoe boxes, knowing too well where the strap shoes are that I’m looking for but enjoying the torture I’m inflicting on Mr Unreasonable.
‘Keep going, Miss Heath. Please keep going and give me a reason to come over there and spank that arse until you’d rather scream my name than go out.’
I’d always rather do that but now isn’t the time to flatter his ego.
With purpose, I slip my feet into my heels and buckle the thin straps at my ankles, then slide the tight dress down over my breasts, wiggling my hips as I pull it down to my thighs.
‘Are you planning on coming to bed with me?’ he asks.
I flash him a dirty scowl.
‘Right. Fine. Then you can take that negligee off right now.’
‘Excuse me?’ My hands move to my hips for maximum effect.
‘There’s no way you’re going out in that excuse for a dress.’
‘I think you’ll find I am.’
‘Take it off, Scarlett.’
‘Quit treating me like a child, Gregory.’
‘Then quit acting like one.’
‘I hate it when you say that to me.’
He moves towards me. ‘I can take it off or you can.’
‘No.’
He grabs my hand and pushes it against his length, hard beneath the dark denim of his jeans. ‘Do you feel that? I’m not having other men looking at you and getting a hard-on, Scarlett. Take it off.’
Oh how I’d love to stay home and fix his problem.
‘Fine.’
‘Fine.’
As soon as I manage to wiggle free of the dress, I throw it in a heap on the floor and start rummaging again through the hanging clothes. ‘There’s nothing I want to wear.’
‘You really are cranky tonight, Miss Heath; what’s gotten into you?’ It’s a rhetorical question, more to make his point than actually obtain a response, so I don’t bother offering one. But I am insanely cranky; that I would both have to agree with and blame him for.
‘Here.’ He holds out a black, strapless all-in-one, fitted to the waist, with tapered bottoms. ‘This is nice. It’s sexy and sophisticated and other men won’t be able to see my spanking target if you bend over.’
Despite myself, I giggle, and take the jumpsuit from him.
‘You look stunning,’ he says as I descend the stairs to the lounge. ‘Ready?’
I nod, afraid to speak in case I accidentally forgive him for the list of things that’ve made me mad at him in the last few days. He slips a grey blazer over his black T-shirt and pulls on his leather ankle boots.
We drive to Clapham in the Range Rover. A thoughtful choice of vehicle for two women in heels.
He beeps the horn once and Amanda comes running, tugging down her short, raspberry dress as she moves.
She slips into the back seat, still fastening her jewellery.
‘You look yummy, hunny,’ she says, popping her head through the gap between the front seats to give my outfit the once-over.
‘You too. New dress?’
She winks with a grin. ‘It’s allowance day.’
Gregory shakes his head. Amanda still gets a monthly allowance from her father and Gregory finds it as unbelievable as I do.
Gregory worked hard for everything he has.
At twenty-eight, he wasn’t living on Daddy’s money; he was a multimillionaire.
This is just another reason my boyfriend and my best friend can’t seem to get along.
‘Chelsea please, driver,’ she says, Gregory’s jaw tightening in response.
‘Are we meeting Luke there?’ I ask to change the subject.
‘Mm,’ she says, using her teeth to hold her bracelet in place as she fastens the lock. ‘And Shelley. Emily and Harry said they might see us out.’
‘Lawrence’s niece?’
‘Mmhmm.’
‘Perfect. It’s been weeks, no, probably months, since I’ve seen Shelley and it’d be nice to see the others if they make it. Where does Shelley live since she moved out of your place?’
‘Mm, near Monument, I think. I haven’t seen her for a few weeks either. She met a new guy, blah, blah.’
Luke is waiting on Kings Road, bouncing on the spot in dark jeans, waistcoat and blazer, a sign of just how cold it is without a cloud in the late-November sky.
Amanda bounds out of the car and runs into Luke’s arms.
‘Thanks,’ I say, unbuckling my belt.
As I turn to leave the car, Gregory grabs my wrist.
‘Kiss.’
I turn and look into those devilishly handsome, brown eyes. Stay strong, lady! With a deep breath, I snatch my hand away and open the car door.
‘Scarlett Heath, don’t you dare get out of this car without kissing me.’
‘Thanks for the lift.’ I step into the road and slam the door shut.
He reaches me before I’ve even managed to walk around to the pavement on his side of the car. He grabs my thighs and flips me upside down so I’m dangling in front of him, my head inches from the ground.
‘Jesus Christ, Gregory! Put me down!’ I check my strapless top to make sure nothing’s fallen out and thank God for my adequate but not large breasts. ‘You’re insane, do you know that?’
I glance up to find everyone on Kings Road staring at the ridiculous scene and Luke and Amanda crippled with laughter.
Traitors. He eventually flips me back upright and holds my waist until I’m steady on my feet, then he leans me against the side of the Range Rover, the cold metal against my back making me shiver.
He locks his thighs against the outsides of mine and subtly presses his crotch against my pelvis.
With his index finger, he lifts my chin. ‘It’s never acceptable for you to leave me without a kiss. Do you understand?’
The air has escaped my lungs so I nod my response.
‘Say you understand.’
‘I understand.’
‘Good girl.’
And then he kisses me, slowly, deeply, passionately, in a way that lets me know what will be waiting for me when I get home and tells every other man on Kings Road who I belong to.
Forgetting my surroundings, I moan into his mouth as his tongue lightly grazes mine and I pull his waist into me.
I’m dizzy when he eventually peels his lips away.
‘Call me when you want to come home.’
‘I’ll get a taxi; it’ll probably be late with these guys.’ I flick a hand in the direction of Amanda and Luke, who’ve finally stopped laughing.
‘What did I just say?’
‘I’ll call you,’ I say.
‘Thank you.’
Slipping between Amanda and Luke to keep my bare shoulders warm, I watch him drive away.
‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Who. Was. That?’
I close Luke’s open mouth with the tip of my finger. A rogue strand of hair falls from his carefully styled honey-blond and rests across his brow. He could be a model.
‘That is Scarlett’s billionaire client,’ Amanda confirms.
‘I actually have a stiffy.’ Luke moves in front of Amanda and me and pushes his crotch forward. ‘Really! Feel it!’
That’s all it takes to send Amanda back into hysterics.
‘Bloody hell, Luke, must you constantly remind me that you preferred taking baths with every man on Cambridge’s rugby team rather than me?’ I say with a shake of the head.
Luke drapes an arm across our shoulders, encouraging us towards the red canopy at the entrance of the bar. The queue of people to the left of the entrance stare as Luke dips his head to the two hefty doormen and we walk straight in.
‘I confess, the changing room orgy was a particular fantasy of mine,’ Luke says as we ascend the staircase.
‘Scarlett! It’s been too long!’ Shelley jumps from the booth she was nestled in and, as fast as her four-inch heels and body-con dress will allow, she hurtles towards me.
‘I always forget how squealy she is,’ Luke says, leaning into my ear. ‘Drink?’
‘No need! No need! We have Grey Goose and Bombay Sapphire and every mixer you can think of.’ Shelley throws her arms around me and yanks me into her suspiciously larger-than-usual chest.
‘Hi, it’s so nice to see you. Shelley. Shelley, I can’t breathe.’ I peel myself away.
‘Whoopsies!’ She giggles. ‘Come. Come. I want you to meet my new guy.’ She drags my arm, jerking it in the socket, and pulls me through the bar. I smile apologetically as a man I’ve been forced to bump into snaps his head quickly to look at the culprit.
Shelley’s new guy is stocky, with broad shoulders that seem part-muscle and part-just mass.
He rises from his seat at the far side of the booth and leans over three ice buckets full of alcohol and mixers to shake my hand and drop a kiss on my cheek.
I clock the Tag decorating his chunky wrist, the cuffs of his shirt clearly rolled back for effect.
‘I’m Dan,’ he shouts across the pounding bass of the music.
‘Scarlett,’ I yell through a smile.
‘Vodka or gin?’ Shelley asks, holding up both bottles as she drops into the padded leather booth with a thump.
‘Gin, please.’