Chapter Fifteen
Fifteen
The exterior of the Harbour Club was grand enough, with its huge windows and elaborately painted tiles, but it was nothing compared to what greeted me inside.
Sumptuously styled with modern art on the walls, grey marble floors and linen curtains blowing in the breeze, this place was next level.
Well-groomed guests in designer sunglasses wandered past in clouds of expensive perfume and my imposter syndrome was in overdrive as the concierge welcomed me into the cool.
I made a beeline for Leo, who was sat waiting in the lobby.
He looked straight through me at first and it was only when I was stood in front of him waving that he did a double take.
‘Hey! Didn’t recognise you there for a second. Nice dress.’
‘Thanks. It’s my new Azorean lady look,’ I said, with a chuckle. ‘Not my regular choice.’
‘Luck be a lady, eh?’ His eyes swept me up and down. ‘Suits you.’
I felt myself blush and rifled around in my bag, pretending to look for something, but all that was in there was dirty washing. ‘Shall we check in, then?’ I mumbled. ‘I’m desperate for a shower.’
‘All done,’ Leo said, handing me a key. ‘You’re directly above me, so keep the noise down please.’
‘I’ll do my best. You must need a lot of beauty sleep for that pretty face.’
‘You think I’ve got a pretty face?’
I blushed again. ‘No…’ I stammered. This dress was knocking me off kilter.
‘Charming. Well, can you bear to look at it over dinner tonight or have you had enough of me for one day? I totally understand if you’d rather order room service.’
‘Oh, yes, there’s an idea. I mean, no. I mean, it would be a shame not to eat in the restaurant, wouldn’t it?
’ Why was I getting so flustered? He wasn’t asking me out on a date, for goodness’ sake.
We were just two colleagues, two rival colleagues, on a business trip who needed to eat.
It was work – and bloody hard work at that.
Leo looked confused. ‘You lost me with all those double negatives.’
I took a breath and spoke slowly and deliberately. ‘Yes. We should have dinner in the restaurant.’
‘Agreed. Separately? Or on a table for two?’
I rolled my eyes. He was infuriating. ‘Together is fine.’ I wasn’t used to being project-managed – usually it was me booking and paying for everything for Heidi and for the clients, and the team. And with men, now that I thought about it. Those half-hour dates didn’t schedule themselves.
‘It’s a date. I’ll see you on the roof terrace at eight.’
He sauntered off and left me panicking in reception.
A date? Was it? I’d never been very fluent in ‘man’ language.
Man-guage. I always took things the wrong way or laughed when they were trying to be serious.
This was the problem with all my three-month relationships, I rarely got close enough to a guy to truly understand what he was on about and the more it continued, the less I bothered trying. What was the point?
I made my way up to Room 602 and nearly cried with joy when I walked inside.
It was light and bright and HUGE. The balcony doors were already open, and a cool breeze rippled through the curtains.
At last, some fresh air on my hot, sweaty forehead.
I stripped off in the doorway and jumped straight in the shower, which was a full-on sensory experience, with wall jets and multicoloured lights, each one a different scent.
Never had water felt so good. I wrapped myself in the fluffy bath towel and sat out on the balcony, watching the sun set, feeling snuggled and rested and like I’d been to a spa.
It would have been rude not to crack open the complimentary half-bottle of Moet, and as I took my first sip I doubled down on that chilled-out holiday feeling: relaxed, excitable, and looking forward to a night out.
I hadn’t realised how stiff and swollen my body had been feeling, and it was such a treat to know I could just stop and relax.
I swapped my towel for a robe and slippers and spent a full hour luxuriating in my suite, lying against the stack of feather pillows with my champagne and staring out at the ocean.
I’d pop down for some dinner, then come back up and jump in the Jacuzzi. This was the life.
Eventually I had to get myself ready and it turned out the red dress wasn’t all that similar to the blue.
It was much vampier, with its silky batwings and plunging neckline, which was entirely fitting for such a glamorous hotspot.
It had been a while since I’d worn a dress that showed off my curves like this and I almost didn’t recognise myself in the mirror.
It was slinky and sexy and made me feel like a different person.
My blue dress was now washed and soaking wet on the balcony, so there was no other choice; the red had to go on.
Leo: I’m in the bar – would you like a drink?
Me: Vodka tonic please.
I wandered down to the lift, feeling completely out of place but rocking it in a red dress. Leo was sat on a bar stool, chatting with the ma?tre d’ and I suddenly felt shy as I walked over, relieved to see his cheeky face.
‘There she is,’ he said, his silver eyes shining. He looked every inch the Azorean man in his white linen shirt and tapered navy chinos.
The ma?tre d’ pulled out a bar stool. ‘Good evening, madam, welcome to the Harbour Club – my name is Ricardo.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, quietly, hopping up next to Leo.
‘The menus are here for you. For specials we have a king prawn with monkfish starter and a beef steak main with baked potato and feta cheese.’ There were so many options to choose from.
‘I’ll leave you to enjoy your aperitifs.
’ Ricardo backed away, head bowed, as if we were royalty, shuffling his shiny shoes across the marble floor.
‘Kinda nice here, right?’ Leo said. ‘Zach is livid. He’s having dinner with Heidi and Brooke and not looking forward to another night in the bunk bed.’
‘Unlucky!’ I sang, toasting him with my glass. ‘Poor Brooke, I wouldn’t want to be in the middle of an angry Zach and Heidi.’
Leo laughed. ‘Same. What is it with those two? They can’t stand each other.’
I shrugged, not wanting to give anything away. ‘They used to work together so I assumed it was just an ex-colleague thing.’
‘Hmm. Seems deeper than that and Zach is being very tight-lipped about it. He usually tells me everything. All fuel for the competitive spirit though, eh?’
‘True.’ My vodka tonic was ice cold and sliding down far too easily. ‘Leave them to it, I say. Why bring bad vibes when we’re surrounded by all this?’
The harbour was crammed full of boats in all shapes and sizes; shiny, white and seemingly still, illuminated by floodlights.
The chatter of yachty families and friends enjoying dinner buzzed through the air, as couples walked along the waterfront, going from menu to identical menu, trying to decide where to eat.
That gorgeous holiday feeling of freedom, when you’re in love or lust, or just full of expectation.
When there’s nothing to fill your mind other than where to sunbathe next, whether to swim or read, whether to have another ice cream and what flavour it should be.
Leo nodded. ‘Agreed. Let’s just enjoy it.’
He had a commanding way about him, and I felt myself surrender.
It was time to switch off and forget about Heidi and Brooke and the pitch.
To relax and enjoy myself for once. The ladylike swoosh of my skirt was helping, tickling my legs, which felt smoother and more moisturised than they had been in years.
I was always rushing from one thing to the next, to and from work, dinner with clients, drinks with friends, squeezing some sleep in, then repeating it all again the next day.
Being out here, I could shave and moisturise my legs to my heart’s content.
No more excuses. No more blaming the London life for being single, overstretched and hairy.
‘So how is Amplify surviving for a week without their big boss and creative director?’
‘I dread to think,’ Leo said, his phone lighting up the table. ‘I haven’t had a minute’s peace, that’s for sure.’ He switched it off and put it in his pocket.
‘The constant interruptions drive me crazy. I especially love it when the American clients start calling just as I’m wrapping up for the day.
’ I picked up an imaginary phone. ‘Kat’s PR hotline, how can I help?
They must think I’m super-human. Sitting around waiting for them to call, twenty-four-seven. ’
‘How long have you been at Northstar now?’
‘Oooh… coming up to six years.’
Leo gasped. ‘Really?! Quite a while then.’
‘Yep. I’ve only had two proper PR jobs since school – this was my first in London and I liked it, so I stayed. Loyalty is important to me.’
‘Your first paid job you mean? Don’t forget Engelman.’
‘My first real job in London. I’m not sure Engelman counts; it was only work experience,’ I said, dismissively. I didn’t like to dwell on my failures.
‘Of course it counts. That’s been my favourite job to date. The pair of us dicking around and having fun. Remember that bloke Roger who was always accusing the receptionist of stealing his lunch?’
I chuckled, despite myself. ‘Oh yes, poor Roger putting his sandwiches in the fridge every day – they’d be gone by eleven. He set up a camera in the end.’
‘I’d have laced them with laxatives. That’d teach whoever it was – and would’ve been a fun way to do the reveal. He could have TikTok-ed it.’
‘And that Christmas party where we dressed up as tube stations. We looked a right state at the after party – like a lost nativity scene. Angel, Parson’s Green, all those nuns for Seven Sisters, Shepherd’s Bush and didn’t you come as Charing Cross?’
‘No, I was an Ox with a clown nose for Oxford Circus. Janice decided on blue for Maida Vale and got mistaken for Mary.’
I laughed. ‘Ahh that was a good night, wasn’t it?’
‘The best. Not a care in the world. Although I don’t know what I’d have done if I hadn’t got that job. Did you apply for a lot of others?’ Leo asked.
‘Hundreds. Well, it seemed like hundreds at the time. Having Engelman on my CV helped open some doors but I was fighting a losing battle to be honest. I did some freelance for a few years in the end, to bridge the gap.’
‘Why?’
‘PR is impossible to get into unless you know someone who knows someone – or at least it used to be.’ I harumphed. ‘How did you do it? Was it Mummy or Daddy who got your foot in the door? Or both?’
He frowned. ‘I did it the same way you did – by applying and being accepted.’
‘You must have known people in the industry though? You strike me as a man who comes from a well-connected family.’
‘Some lazy assumptions there. My parents died in a car accident before I ever got to know them. My gran raised me and my brothers on a pension in Manchester.’
I sat back at that, stunned and completely mortified. ‘Oh my God, Leo, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.’
‘Why would you? We don’t know each other that well.’
‘But still, I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘Yeah. I know a thing or two about fighting for things as I’ve had to do it my whole life.
’ He gave me a cool stare, then seemed to change his mind and his face softened.
‘It was hard, but we made it work. I had a hardship grant at uni and that Engelman job was a lifeline. I was up to my ears in debt, and any spare money Gran had went on my younger brother.’
I was gobsmacked. All these years I’d been incensed at the injustice of it all, convinced he had a silver spoon up his bum and I’d got him all wrong.
‘I shouldn’t have said any of that; it was presumptuous and rude. You always seem so… well put together. Your voice, your clothes. I just assumed.’
‘Oh, that. Yeah, but it’s all learnt behaviour,’ he said, leaning in. ‘My northern accent wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I woke up one day and decided to try something different.’
‘What, just out of the blue? That must have surprised your gran.’
‘First day of uni,’ he replied with a wink. ‘New friends, new start, new me.’
‘There’s nowt wrong with a northern accent, lad,’ I said, attempting one.
‘Eh, that’s pretty good is that,’ he replied, much more convincingly, and my insides wobbled at his throaty timbre. Funny the things that remind you of home, and I was a sucker for a northerner.
‘I think I’ll stick with the Scouse, and my PhD from the University of Life.’
‘She’s a doctor, no less. Cheers to that,’ Leo said, clinking my glass. ‘More useful and much less debt.’
Ricardo came gliding over, all beaming smiles and teeth.
‘Are you enjoying yourselves? How are your drinks?’
‘Lovely, thank you,’ Leo and I said in unison, then looked at each other and laughed. Were we similar in nature, or just PR robots?
‘Are you ready for your table? I’ve got you the best view from the terrace as you are celebrating, isn’t it true?’ Ricardo said with a wink, snatching up our menus and marching off.
‘Celebrating? Where’s he got that idea?’ I whispered, horrified.
‘Erm… crossed wires. I said it had been a spontaneous decision to stay for the night,’ Leo said, striding after him.
Ricardo stopped at a gorgeous table for two, overlooking the harbour and out to sea. A red and white chequered tablecloth with a candle wedged into an old wine bottle, and a vase of pink roses. The relaxing lull of water lapping at the boats could be heard over the chatter and it was very romantic.
‘Please accept our congratulations and a glass of champagne on the house,’ Ricardo said, as a waiter scurried over with an ice bucket.
Leo looked at me with a glint in his eye. ‘Obrigado, Ricardo,’ he said and sat down.
It was against Scouse law to pass up a freebie – Mum would never forgive me. So, I followed Leo’s lead and sat silently as Ricardo popped the cork.