Chapter 10 Mia
MIA
Dominic checked in on me every day via texts and phone calls, but didn’t drop around again.
I couldn’t explain why that made me sad.
I was supposed to be relieved to be left to my own devices, to enjoy some quiet time to watch trashy television shows and have hours long FaceTime calls with Char while she was in Paris.
But I wasn’t.
I found myself checking twice when a car pulled up outside, my heart racing in my chest as I thought maybe it was Dom pulling up in his shiny Aston Martin. But it never was, and I was too proud to ask him round.
Stupid? Maybe. But I wasn’t about to let another Graves get the better of me just because he’d cooked me soup and made me a cup of tea.
Char’s return from Paris coincided with a brand launch at a fancy new hotel in central London, and we decided to get ready at my place, like two giddy teenagers heading to the club.
“Babes, babes.” Char holds up her hands with great emphasis after downing her second glass of champagne. “The men in France? Seriously. I don’t know how they breed them down there, but I don’t think I’ve ever been so surrounded by handsome men in my life.”
“Should have brought one back with you,” I tease, running my curling iron through a length of hair. “At least one of us could be happy.”
“Next time, I plan on it.” She inspects the earrings that she laid out on the dressing table, deciding on a silvery pair of glimmering chandeliers. “Don’t know if any of those French blokes will measure up to Mr Daddy DILF though, after what he did.”
I roll my eyes and glare at her reflection in the mirror. “You know I still haven’t forgiven you for that. You know that, don’t you? How did you even exchange numbers?”
Char shrugs. “We were at a fundraising event a few months ago, and we were discussing yachts.”
“Yachts?”
“Yes, yachts. He wants to buy one, and I told him about the sale I’d helped out with, you know, the sheikh?” Char nods as though I know exactly how many sheikhs she’s sold yachts to in her lifetime, and I’m reminded that I definitely come from a very different world. “Yeah, so him, and DILFy-”
I groan loudly. “Oh fucking christ, do not call him DILFy.”
“Sorry, Dominic asked me if he could call me for some advice sometime.”
“And did he?”
Char frowns. “No, as a matter of fact he never did.”
“He was asking for your number, you twit,” I say with a laugh. “Yacht, my arse. He was picking you up and you didn’t even notice.”
“And then he didn’t end up calling? Rejected.
How will I ever live?” Char throws herself down in the armchair, draping one long leg over the other, tossing her copper-brown hair over her shoulder.
“So how was he, anyway? When he was here cooking for you with no shirt on?” She giggles into her champagne glass. “I would pay good money to see that.”
“His arms are ridiculous,” I mutter, plucking a nude-coloured lip gloss from the stand on my dressing table. “I mean, they’re massive.”
“Big enough to carry you to bed with,” Char says with a devious grin. “That’s kind of romantic, you have to admit.”
“It is not romantic, it’s-it’s bloody embarrassing.” My cheeks burn all over again at the memory of waking up in my bed. “And stop with the romance bullshit, he’s my father-in-law, you filthy bitch.”
Char holds up her hands. “I’m just saying, he’s fit, he can cook, he carried you to bed while you were sleeping without even waking you?” She clutches a hand to her chest and throws her head back against the arm chair. “My god, what a man! He’s the man women dream of!”
“Yeah, women who aren’t related to him, maybe.”
“I read enough smutty books to know this is exactly the kind of thing we all secretly dream of.” Char gets to her feet and sashays out of the bedroom. “More champagne, babes?”
“No, thanks.”
“Loose lips sink ships!” She calls from somewhere in the house in a sing-song voice, and I roll my eyes.
Bloody hell. How could Char be talking about me and Dominic, me and Dominic, in a romantic way? Am I being weird? Am I being obvious? I look at my reflection with alarm as I wonder if maybe I’ve been sending Dom the mixed signals and he thinks I want him.
Shit. I don’t though. Do I?
My phone lights up, showing a message from Jordan.
See you tonight. Ezra and Ricky will be there too.
Good, yes, footballers to take my mind off my stupidly handsome father-in-law. Christ, girl, fucking stop it.
My phone lights up again and starts ringing, and I frown at it when I see Billy’s name light up the screen.
“Hello, grandpa,” I say jovially. “You’ve just caught me heading out, you alright?”
“Yes, hello darling, Dominic told me you were headed out tonight.” Billy coughs, and it sounds painful and heavy. “Excuse me.”
“Don’t worry. How are you feeling?”
“Oh, fine, fine.” He clears his throat. “I just wanted to have a quick word with you about Archie.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Oh right.” I swallow hard, trying to ignore the sweat that’s broken out on my top lip. “Have you heard from him again?”
“No, only… I wanted to ask you something.”
“Of course.” I check my lip gloss in the mirror. “What did you need to know?”
“Did you know you couldn’t have children when you got married?”
The floor beneath me feels unsteady, and even sitting down I worry I’m going to tip sideways and go flying across the room.
“Billy, sorry, but that’s really none of your business.”
“Well I think you’ll find it is.” Billy exhales heavily, his breath crackling on the line. “Archie was very upset when I spoke to him, and it’s plagued me ever since. Now you know I like you, my girl, but if you led him into something unwittingly, I’d be extremely disappointed.”
I take a deep, steadying breath, gripping the edge of the dressing table so hard my sweaty hand leaves a foggy mark. “I was very clear with Archie that I didn’t want children when we got married.”
“Well, which is it then, you didn’t want them or you can’t have them?”
“Both,” I snap, and it feels so strange to be talking to him like this. “And Archie knew both.”
“Yes well, I mean it’s very sad that you can’t have them, but doesn’t that make you understand somewhat how he feels?”
“No, no, it doesn’t actually.”
Char comes swooping in with a wide smile, stopping instantly when she sees my face.
“Archie?” She mouths, and I shake my head.
“Billy, if Archie wanted to leave me over not being able to have kids, he could have. He could have chosen to not bleedin’ marry me. But he did.”
Char’s face is lethal, and she plants her hands firmly on her hips.
“What’s he bloody on about?” She raises her eyebrows. “It’s called Divorce, William!” She calls so she can be heard down the line. “A term you perhaps should have made yourself familiar with.”
Billy coughs and splutters down the line, and I can hear someone fussing over him in the background.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he chokes out. “I can hear you’re not alone there, Mia.”
“No, I’m not, my friend is here to come to the event tonight.”
“Yes, and we need to leave, now!” Char calls, tapping her foot on the floor.
“She’s extremely rude,” Billy says with a sniff. “No wonder Archie doesn’t like her.”
“Do you have a point to this conversation besides blaming me for Archie going out and shagging other women? Or was that it? Because for you to call just to hurt me, well… I did not see that coming.” My eyes burn, and I swallow down the lump that catches in my throat.
“You know I like you a great deal.”
I laugh harshly. “Yeah, I thought you did. Anyway, I have to go.”
He’s still protesting when I punch my finger against the screen and end the call. My hands are shaking, and I place them both palm down on the dressing table to calm myself.
“I could kill him,” Char says with a shrug. “Slip something into that oxygen tank of his, or stick my leg out when he’s trying to get down the stairs.”
My shoulders shake as I laugh. “He probably takes the lift.”
“Then I’ll cut the brake wires. I’ll figure something out.” She moves to my side, putting her hands on my shoulders. “Hey.”
I lift my eyes to meet hers in the mirror.
“He’s a privileged, pathetic old twat who neglected his wife and kids.
He’s not worth your worry, or your time.
You’re a million times the person he’ll ever be.
” She gives me a warm smile. “Archie’s choices are not your choices.
He chose this. And honestly, he’d have done it whether you’d had a baby or not.
Because it’s about him being an insecure little shit.
Not about you.” She wraps her arms around my shoulders, pressing her cheek to mine.
“You’re lovely. And you deserve so much better. ”
I run my hand along her arm. “Thank you.”
“The only thing Billy has going for him is his tits are bigger than yours,” Char says, and I burst out laughing.
“Well, now I feel loads better.”
“Good!” Char squeezes my shoulders again, and turns to retrieve her clutch from the bed. “Because our car will be here any minute, and we are going to have a good night!”
The launch is being held in a fancy hotel by the Thames, with some obscure name like O or 10, I keep forgetting which.
By the time I make my way inside past the press, it doesn’t matter anyway.
Char dazzles them all, talking animatedly about my next campaigns and my partnerships, doing an excellent PR job in Holly’s absence.
“You know more about my career than I do,” I murmur to her as we make our way into the artfully concreted lobby, underneath an abstract copper chandelier adorned with oversized light bulbs.
“Is Priest going to be here tonight?” Char asks, linking her arm in mine. “I really need to get a selfie with him to make my sister wildly jealous.”
I cover a laugh with my hand. “Yes, he said he’d be here.”
“Oh, good. My instagram is going to be the source of tears tonight.”
As we make our way past the groups of people, I scan for faces I know, and see far too many. London really is a village sometimes.