Chapter 8
Nora
The evening is warm, and my dress is red.
I'm treading a fine balance between looking professional—after all, I'm appearing in front of Miles’ family's business associates—and dressing to kill.
And when I say kill, I of course mean I want to slay Jonathan's heart.
And other parts of his anatomy.
Holy Christ is Theo’s reaction when he picks me up in an obnoxious red sports car.
‘I seem to have matched my dress to my fake boyfriend’s car,’ I say archly as I slide into the gratuitously low passenger seat with as much dignity as I can muster, given the tightness of my dress.
‘Your fake boyfriend is not complaining.’ His gaze slithers up my legs to where the dress’ slit exposes my thigh. ‘You look fucking amazing.’
‘Thank you. You look very nice too.’ He does, in slate-grey trousers and a white shirt that may have one too many buttons undone, but he’s making it work for him.
As he twists in his seat, I catch a sliver of tanned chest and a dusting of dark hair.
His stomach, under what looks from here like a perfectly fitted shirt, is washboard flat.
How this guy is British, I’m not sure. Everything about him screams Euro trash playboy.
Dear Lord. I even spot the unmistakable H of an Hermes belt buckle.
‘Thought I’d make an effort.’ He winks at me.
I’m nervous, which prompts me to be a bitch.
‘I’m not sure why you bothered. It’s not like you can openly go on the pull tonight.
’ Obviously, we’ve pre-agreed that Theo needs to keep it in his pants while we date.
Nothing would spoil our ruse faster than him being papped leaving a club with some scantily clad socialite.
‘I made the effort for you,’ he says evenly. He’s pretty good-natured; I’ll give him that. Not easily ruffled. ‘And for Jonathan, because the better I look, the more it’ll piss him off when he sees me getting hot and heavy with you.’
My stomach flips. ‘There’ll be no getting hot and heavy, Romeo. It’s a work function, remember? You don’t want to disgrace yourself in front of your family, not when they all seemed so happy with you at the weekend.’
‘Shame.’ He gives me a tight grin. ‘But you’re right. I need to remember that the less I behave like my real self, the more my family will approve of me.’
That’s just… awful. Awful. My heart twists, and I pat him on the shoulder maternally.
‘I’m sure that’s not it. If your family didn’t think you were amazing, that you had lots of potential, then they wouldn’t be upset with you for squandering it.
Your mum adores you, I can tell. I suspect if you gave her half the chance, she wouldn’t shut up about you.
I suppose she can’t boast to her friends about threesomes’—this earns me a little smile—‘so let’s change the narrative, shall we? ’
He groans and grabs my hand. Gives it a squeeze. ‘Ugh. If you say things like change the narrative in front of Mum, she’ll have an orgasm. Seriously. She loves that shit.’
I snort. ‘So let’s give your mum a happy ending then, shall we? Ideally, in a non-sexual way.’
‘So I have to ravish you enough to make your ex jealous while not being remotely inappropriate, and also charming my parents and their business associates. And I’m driving, so I can’t even get leathered. I didn’t really think this through, did I?’
‘Hey.’ I squeeze his hand back. ‘This is a two-way deal, remember? I’m here tonight to fluff you up in front of your parents’ friends and help you carry the conversation.
It’s good you’re driving, because then you won’t be tempted to get drunk and act out.
And you just have to try to act like you fancy the pants off me in front of Jonathan. Then we’re done, and we can escape.’
‘Acting like I fancy the pants off you will be the easy part, sweetheart. Believe me. Look at you.’
The tone of his voice has my head jerking up to look at him. He flashes me a look that packs some heat before returning his eyes to the road. His jaw tenses as he continues.
‘Kurt, the outgoing MD for Manhattan, will be here tonight.’
‘Jesus. That’s a big deal. Does he have any say in who succeeds him?’ I can’t believe Theo didn’t mention this until now. I would have read up on the state of the Manhattan hotel industry if I’d known.
‘Yes and no. Mum and Dad will take his view on board, because he knows the market best, but it’s their decision, at the end of the day. That said, I want to keep close to this guy tonight, see what intel I can get from him. Where he sees the market going, what he thinks the job requires.’
‘Definitely.’ I sit up straighter in my seat.
This is good. I need a focus for tonight that doesn’t involve obsessing over where Jonathan and Lucy are all evening and worrying about Theo kissing me.
‘Well, we have a goal then. Tell me everything you’re thinking about the Manhattan opportunity before we get there.
We’re going to charm his pants off, you and me. ’
The bar the Montagues have hired for this event is still pretty empty when Theo and I show up, his arm slung around my bare shoulders for good measure (never let it be said we’re not committed to this ruse). So I spot him immediately.
Jonathan.
And he’s alone. My eyes do a swift scan of the room, but I can’t see Lucy. Maybe she’s just in the loo. I’m not sure whether to say hi to Jonathan or hide against Theo’s firm chest, but the decision is taken out of my hands when he clocks me and makes a beeline for us.
‘Oh, shit.’ I freeze, and Theo rubs my upper arm, dipping his head to whisper in my ear.
‘You can do it. This is the precise reason we’re doing this, remember? He saw us arrive together—this is good. Go knock him dead.’
Jonathan’s steps slow as he approaches, like he’s having second thoughts. He looks from me to Theo and back again, and the sensation of having thrown him off balance even the tiniest bit is like a warm glow.
‘Hey, Holmes.’ Theo releases my shoulder so he can give Jonathan a shake that looks slightly more manly than necessary.
‘Montague.’ Jonathan says the name on an exhale before turning to me. ‘Hi, Nor.’
Before he can close the gap between us and kiss me, Theo pulls me back in and kisses my temple.
‘I’ll grab us some drinks.’ He slaps me on the bum—hello, gratuitous gesture?
—before turning on his heels and heading for the bar.
Jonathan stares at his retreating form before visibly shaking himself and catching my eye.
We both laugh nervously as he puts a hand gently, respectfully, on my shoulder and kisses me on both cheeks.
Yep. The double kiss coming from the love of my life feels just as shitty as it did at the engagement party.
‘So, how are you?’ I ask at the same time as he says, ‘You look lovely.’
Ugh. Kill me now.
‘Thanks. How are things?’
Yes, my personality has deserted me. I’m too busy feeling to be able to speak.
Too flooded with emotion, with memories, as the scent of him washes over me and my eyes soak up the vision that is his dear, handsome, familiar face.
His is a classical British look, with his fair hair and skin, high cheekbones and aquiline nose.
Not like Mr Mafia behind me. Jonathan is my home.
My safe place. He was supposed to be my future.
He breaks my train of thought. ‘Yeah, all good, thanks. I haven’t got myself fired yet, so that’s something.’
I laugh politely. ‘So you’re enjoying it?’
‘Very much. They’re a good bunch, the Montagues. Most of them, anyway.’
He frowns, and I suppress a desire to snigger. No prizes for guessing which Montague he’s excluding from his compliment.
‘And the work is fascinating. It’s an interesting time to be getting stuck into the hotel industry, but hopefully things will continue to improve.’
‘So you’re glad you made the leap in-house?’
Jonathan’s always been ambitious. He had his sights set on the career path at Deloitte’s at one time, but he got restless, tired of giving advice to other people instead of managing businesses himself.
He’s smart. Commercial. I knew going in-house to a large company would be a great move for him.
Holding his hand while he contemplated jumping ship on Deloitte’s was one of the last things I was able to do for him before he jumped ship on me.
‘Very glad. I knew it was the right call to make.’
Er, no, he didn’t, actually. He hummed and hawed for months while I waited for him to come to the conclusion I knew all along was right for him.
‘That’s great. I’m happy for you.’ I clear my throat. ‘So, are you here alone tonight?’
‘Yeah.’ He takes a swig of what I assume is a G&T. ‘I thought it would be more professional if I came on my own.’
Isn’t that fascinating? He always used to bring me along to Deloitte events. He joked that having me with him made him look smarter. But it doesn’t come as a remote surprise that that’s not what he considers Lucy’s main—ahem—asset to be.
‘Makes sense.’ Who am I to argue with that logic?
‘So.’ He frowns. ‘You’re with… er… Montague?’ He jerks his head in the direction behind me.
I cross my arms. ‘Yep. I am.’
‘Miles mentioned he’d seen you at a family lunch.’
Did he, now? Who knew Miles would prove so useful a grapevine?
I smile innocently. ‘It was so lovely. My first time meeting Charles and Laura. They were all so welcoming.’
Jonathan takes a long swallow of his drink, his eyes not leaving mine. I’ve always loved his eyes. Blue. Open. Blonde-lashed.
‘I saw him mauling you at the engagement party, but I didn’t expect you to give him the time of day, to be honest.’
‘Why not?’ I open my eyes wide. ‘Some people would argue he’s quite a catch.’
‘Come on, Nor. Lucy filled me in on what he did live on camera, taking those twins off to bed. He sounds like a right dirty bastard. He’s not your type.’
There’s a righteous anger warming my veins. This is good. It’s what I need. I need to be angry with Jonathan. There are so many things I want to say to him right now, and it’s so tempting to spit them out.
At least he didn’t dump me for someone who looks—and acts—like a blow-up doll.
At least he can give as good as he gets. He doesn’t sit there and take it when I boss him around. Maybe I like a guy taking control for once.
I stayed with you far too long and played it far too safe. Don’t you think I could use a good seeing-to from a dirty bastard?
Okay, so I don’t mean the last one. I loved being with Jonathan.
I would have stayed with him forever, for Chrissakes.
I still would. But tempting though it is to say something cutting, it wouldn’t be worth it.
Because he’d know I was hurting then. And what little I know of men tells me I’ll be far more attractive in his eyes if I look like I’ve moved on from him.
I really wish guys weren’t so infantile when it comes to game-playing. But I can’t change nature.
So I smile an amused, humouring smile and make my voice cool. Calm.
‘Theo’s been a total sweetie, actually, and he’s very attentive. I think everyone deserves to be judged on their merits, don’t you?’
As if my fake boyfriend’s performance couldn’t get any better, I simultaneously register Jonathan’s increased scowl at something over my shoulder and a hand sliding around my waist, seconds before a wall of heat and muscle hits me from behind.
Theo nuzzles his nose, mouth and stubble into my neck and inhales, hard, before whispering loudly enough for Jonathan to hear.
‘You smell fucking incredible. And this dress is killing me, babe.’
Moments like this are almost worth having been dumped for.
I’m hyper aware of Jonathan’s gaze sliding down to my waist, and of the warmth of Theo’s fingers there as I cover his hand with mine and interlock our fingers.
That Theo has my back, quite literally, gives me the mental strength I need to draw myself up and throw Jonathan a friendly but unemotional grin as I incline my jaw closer to Theo’s hovering mouth.
‘We should go say hi to your dad, honey.’