Chapter 10 Mia #2
Char squeals, and suddenly I’m dragged towards a corner of the room.
“You’re here!” She exclaims, and accosts a startled Jordan with a hug. “Mia said you’d be here, I’m so glad we finally get to meet properly.”
Ricky and Ezra both laugh and clap Jordan on the back.
“Picked up already, brother,” Ricky teases.
“I guess so,” Jordan replies, and extracts himself from Char’s embrace. “Am I to suppose a lovely lady like you is Mia’s sister?”
Char squeals again and gives me a wide, open mouthed smile. “Ah, he’s so smooth!” She turns back to him and clears her throat. “I’m practically her sister, I’m her best friend. We met back when we started out modelling a million years ago, she lived in the flat next door to mine.”
“Char had no roommates and I had four,” I say over her shoulder, and Ezra and Ricky both chuckle.
Char smiles sweetly over her shoulder. “Yes but that’s why I let you have so many lovely sleepovers at mine.”
“True, true.” I turn to Ricky and Ezra as Char continues to chat animatedly to Jordan. “Sorry I missed the last game. Guess I really am your good luck charm.”
“Ah, it’s alright, Ezra wasn’t on his game that night.” Ricky gives Ezra a sly, sideways smile. “We can blame it on him.”
“Yeah yeah, some defender you are,” Ezra says, shaking his head, and the smile on his face is tight with irritation. “Anyway, how are you, Mia? You know, how… how are things?”
“Fine.” I force a smile, not wanting to even hear Archie’s name tonight. “Really good, yeah. You know, the usual work and all that. I was sick at home for almost a week, this is my first time out.”
“I saw that,” Ezra says. “Dominic’s post on instagram, you poor thing. Was it the flu?”
“Dominic’s post?” I ask with a frown. “What post?”
“The one where he was cooking in your kitchen,” Ezra says, reaching into his pocket to fish out his phone. “It was so sweet, honestly.”
“What a good papa,” Ricky says with a grin. “It’s nice you two are so close now.”
Ezra turns his phone around to show me the post. It’s a photo of Dominic’s forearm, his hand planted flat next to a chopping board covered in vegetables. My eyes drop to the caption, and my throat goes dry.
Looking after the family always comes first. Sorry everyone, but my girl is sick and she needs me.
“See? So sweet.” Ezra tucks his phone away again, and looks at me questioningly. “Mia?”
My girl needs me. The room tips a little, and my face feels hot.
“Very sweet,” I say softly. “That’s… it was really nice of him.”
My girl needs me. Why would he put it like that? Why would he label me like that? What must everyone be thinking? Oh god, no wonder Billy called me. Fuck, he suspects. Jesus Christ, suspects WHAT, Mia?
Ricky puts a hand on my arm, his face clouded with concern. “Hey, you look pale.”
“I’m fine, I just need… Oh it’s just hot in here, I think I need to cool off for a minute.”
I grab Char away from Jordan, and drag her towards the back of the foyer to the balcony doors.
“Mia, what is going on? Mia?”
I slam my hand against the door and shove it open, cold river air hitting me right in the face and flooding my lungs.
“It’s bloody freezing out here,” Char protests, rubbing her arms. “Let’s get our coats, you were just sick.”
“Did you see his instagram post?”
Char stops short. “Whose? Jordan’s? Did he post already?”
“No, not Jordan’s, Dominic’s.”
Char relaxes visibly even if her skin is pebbled with goosebumps. “Oh, that. Yeah, I did. It was sweet.”
I turn away from her, shaking my head. “Why would he put it like that? Why would he say that? Saying his girl needs him? Oh my god.” I rake my fingers through my hair, my scalp feeling ten sizes too small. “What are people going to think?”
“Think of what?” Char tries to hold onto my arms but I wiggle out of her grasp. She watches me pace the balcony with a puzzled expression on her face. “Babes, why are you so upset?”
I turn to her with a loud sigh. “Because how does that make me look? How does that make us look? Sitting together at the football, going out for dinner, and now he’s posting about ‘his girl’ and looking after me? People already think I drove Archie away, and now-”
“No one is going to think that.” Char shakes her head slowly. “Everyone just saw a man looking after his daughter-in-law.” She tilts her head, narrowing her eyes slightly. “It’s made you feel a certain way though, and I think that’s why you’re freaking out.”
I inhale sharply through my nose. “I’m not freaking out.”
Char laughs lightly. “Mia, I can recognise one of your freak-outs.”
“I-I… I just…” I don’t even know. I can’t explain why this has thrown me, why I’m so terrified of what people will read into that stupid post.
“Come on,” Char says, linking her arm through mine. “Let’s go enjoy the party, and file this away for later, hmm?”
I let her guide me back inside, my brain still whirring and my heart thumping against my rib cage.
Jordan looks at me questioningly, but doesn’t say anything, bless him.
I pull my mask into place, smiling and milling about with all the familiar faces.
I make small talk with a few people, heat prickling at the back of my neck as I wonder if they can feel the shame radiating from my face.
What is wrong with you?
I excuse myself from a conversation to go and find Char, and run straight into a wall.
No, not a wall.
Dominic sodding Graves. He looks dapper in a grey suit with a light blue tie, the white shirt making his bronzed skin glow. He smiles down at me, and I want the ground to swallow me up.
“Hello, love. Feeling better then?”
“Yeah, fine.” I tear my eyes away from his. “Took a few days, but I’m fine now.”
He dips his head a little, trying to catch my gaze. “Did I do something wrong?”
I shake my head, still not looking at him. “No, what would you have done?”
“Sorry I didn’t pop round,” he says, lifting his hand as though to touch me, but pulling back. “I wanted to leave you in peace to recover.”
My gaze snaps back up to his, and I can’t explain why I’m angry. Am I angry? What is this feeling? It’s just turmoil, and terror, and fear, all mixed in together, because I can’t explain what I feel when I look into his deep blue eyes.
“Why did you make that post on instagram?” I hiss, and Dom’s eyebrows shoot up.
“What post?”
“The one in my kitchen. My girl needs me.”
Dom laughs and rolls his eyes. “Oh that one. I just wanted to make sure no one gave us any guff over missing the football game, y’know?” His smile falters when he looks at my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you know how that made us look?” I dare quick glances to either side of us, making sure no one can hear what we’re saying. “Calling me your girl. What do you think people are going to say?”
“They’re going to say that I care about you.”
“But as what, Dom?”
We stare at each other for what feels like minutes, but it’s probably only a few seconds. Dom slowly raises his hand to my shoulder, cupping it and stroking it ever so gently with his thumb. So gently that no one would see.
“You know as what, Mia.” His gaze is intense, and for all my worry about what that stupid post would make people think, standing here staring at each other with his hand on me is going to make everything so much worse.
I take a step back from him, out of his grasp, and fumble with the latch on my bag to take my phone out.
“I’m not feeling well,” I say quickly, pulling up the taxi app on my phone. “I shouldn’t have come out yet, it’s too soon. I-I have a headache.”
“Mia.” Dom tries reaching for me, but I move further away, still staring at my phone.
“I’ll just go tell Char, and then I’ll go meet my cab.” I spin on my heel, half looking at the app on my phone and half scanning the crowd for Char’s face.
I finally find her, taking ridiculous selfies with a now loosened-up Jordan, and she waves when she spots me.
But her face instantly freezes into a look of concern, as she no doubt sees something is not quite right.
Her eyes flash over my shoulder for a second, and I don’t doubt that Dom is right behind me.
“I have to go,” I say, clearing my throat and putting a hand to my chest. “I think I overdid it a bit.”
“I’ll come with you,” she says, and I quickly shake my head.
“No, no, you stay, you’re having fun.” I force a smile, and now Jordan’s eyes wander behind me, wondering why his boss is pursuing me through the room. “I just want to go home and sleep.”
“Oh. Not a worry.” She takes a hold of my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.” I give them both a quick peck on the cheek and turn tail, stalking straight past Dominic. I ask for my coat at the cloakroom, where he manages to catch up with me.
“Mia, please talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to say,” I murmur, giving him a side glance. “I’m being stupid. I’m tired, and I was ill. It’s all just too much.”
“Mia.” He reaches out to take my hand that’s tapping on the counter, but I slide it away quickly.
“Stop it.” I smile at the attendant and take my coat, ignoring Dom’s attempts to help me into it. I hurry out through the hotel doors, and of course there’s fucking press waiting for me. The flashes start going off, and hotel security try to hold them at a reasonable distance.
I check my phone for the cab, and see it’s only a minute away.
“Mia! Mia!” The calls come, and I shrug my coat up around my face to try and block them all out.
“Mia, you must be devastated at the loss of your father!”
I recognise the voice. I know it’s Paulie Hardcastle. But the words. The words he said….
I turn slowly towards him, just as Dom emerges from the hotel. He stops short, following my gaze, then looks back at me.
“What did you say?” I’m suddenly not at all cold, but numb all the same. “What did you say?” I ask again, louder this time, taking a few shaky steps towards the throng of photographers. They quiet down, unsure of what to do.
Paulie’s silvered head pops up, his camera at the ready.
“Your father, Mia! You dumped him in a care home four years ago, and haven’t seen him since!” He snaps his camera, the flash burning my eyes, but I can barely blink. “Do you regret not seeing him one last time before he died?”
The press all look at Paulie, then turn back to me, unleashing a tsunami of shouted questions on me. I’m going to faint. Black spots dance in my vision and sound drowns out, my legs numb and weak and threatening to collapse all at the same time.
“Dom,” I gasp, and before my hand’s even reached out, he’s there.
“I’m here, love,” he says in a low voice, shielding me from the photographers and guiding me to the black cab that’s just pulled up. “I’ve got you. Let’s go.”
I clasp onto his arm, still not believing it. I climb into the back of the cab, and with shaky fingers try to find the number for my father’s care home as Dom gives my address to the driver.
“I don’t understand,” I stammer, dialling the number and putting the phone to my ear. “I don’t…Oh my god.”
The phone rings five times, and then a matronly voice answers.
“Barnabus Home, this is Helen speaking.”
She sounds so cheerful. How can she sound so fucking cheerful when someone just died?
“H-hello, my name is Mia Graves. Uh, Mia Brookes. I mean…” I snap for air, and Dom curls his hand around mine. “I-I was just told that my father… My father…”
I can’t hold the phone. My hands are shaking too much.
“Dom,” I murmur, and gently, he takes the phone from my hand.