CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SIXTEEN
The adventure isn’t you, the adventure isn’t us, the adventure is me …
– from ‘Adventure’, by These Exiles
‘I MEAN … IT’S THE right name. It was definitely the Phoenix Hotel,’ I told my sister, a little uncertainly. ‘But this can’t be where Patrick wanted to meet me … can it?
We were in a part of the city I’d never actually been in before.
Now I was here, I knew why. Everyone walking about looked as though they got daily blow-dries to match their pearls – and not the cheap kind I’d bought a few years ago, but the real deal.
The place was jammed with fancy cars without proper number plates, and boutiques without prices, and a patisserie that sold cakes that cost more than my rent.
And here was the Phoenix Hotel.
‘There can’t be that many Phoenix Hotels,’ Laura said with a shrug as she gazed up at the building, her coffee from our breakfast run still in her hands. ‘And he said he was meeting you here?’
I nodded. The hotel looked like something out of a Jane Austen novel – all pillars and marble. There was even a doorman dressed in some sort of livery. I pulled out my phone and reread Patrick’s message. I was definitely in the right place.
Paddy
I’ve got a work thing at the Phoenix Hotel until eleven. Meet me there before we go to lunch?
I swallowed. This was … not the sort of place I would tend to hang out – but we weren’t staying, were we? It was just somewhere to meet.
‘So … a hotel room?’ My sister asked with a twinkle in her eye. ‘You don’t think he –’
‘No,’ I said automatically.
Laura raised an eyebrow above her frames. ‘You didn’t know what I was going to –’
‘I knew exactly what you were going to say,’ I said with a wry smile. ‘And the answer is still no. He said he had a work thing here.’
‘OK, but still, you should really get on that man. He makes Ross look like an absolute loser, not that he needed much help there.’
I looked at her, unimpressed.
‘I’m just saying: blocking Ross’s calls is one of the best things you’ve ever done.’ Laura paused. ‘Or the best thing Anna’s done, anyway. He hasn’t been bothering you lately, right?’
Nope. ‘Ross is ancient history, I haven’t even –’
‘Did Derek mention that he’s been trying to get into your hotel?’
I stopped in my tracks. ‘What?’ This was the first I’d heard of it, and cold gripped my heart.
‘Yeah, he rang me to ask if Ross Bradley should be an approved person,’ my sister said, something like guilt sweeping across her face. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t tempted to go back there. I wanted to protect you from –’
‘You don’t have to keep protecting me,’ I said, vaguely annoyed she’d kept something so big from me. What if I had run into him in the lobby? Or outside the hotel?
Why the thought of my ex trying to worm his way back into my life made me so uncomfortable, I didn’t know. I’d just got truly free of him, and it had taken work. And now, big surprise, he wanted back into my life.
No thank you.
‘I know. I really am sorry – but anyway, forget him. You’ve got Patrick now. And doesn’t Karun have you meeting with some famous clients for work?’
He did. We’d agreed I would take time during my sabbatical to meet and network with some of GSR’s high-net-worth clients, and I hadn’t argued.
He hadn’t given me much of a choice – and it wasn’t like I’d had much else to do recently.
In the lead-up to the Songwriter Awards, my chances to see Patrick were growing fewer and fewer.
‘My little sister, on to bigger and better things!’ Laura wiggled her eyebrows. ‘Did you really meet –’
‘You know I’m just meeting these people for work,’ I shot back, trying not to notice a woman stare at us as we walked down the street. Her face felt familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. Please, don’t be a journalist, or, worse, a superfan …
‘You have to admit, you’re moving in higher circles now.’ My sister grinned. ‘Anyone would think that being wined and dined by the very –’
‘You’re Jessica Donovan, aren’t you?’
My twin and I turned to see the woman I’d noticed earlier approach us. She wore the most delicate heels and looked likely to fall at any moment, her gaze fixed on me.
Oh God.
Patrick had warned me this might happen – that, eventually, people would begin to recognize me and might approach me in the street.
I’d laughed.
‘Erm, hi,’ I said awkwardly.
Laura stepped closer to me, her arm brushing up against mine. ‘Who are you?’
Ever the protective sister.
‘I’m a fan. Just a fan,’ the woman said with a broad grin. ‘Patrick, what a rockstar, eh?’
She didn’t seem intoxicated or anything, just … just fixated. A prickle of discomfort warred with my wish to be polite. I mean, I got it. Hadn’t I acted the fool when I’d first met Patrick at Maria’s?
God, that felt like a lifetime ago.
But this woman seemed a little older than the usual age of Patrick’s fans. These Exiles were a popular band, but their core fanbase was under thirty. This woman was closer to being middle-aged.
‘How is it going between you two? It must be so exciting, being with a celebrity. Do you love him?’
My laugh was awkward and damned uncomfortable. ‘Erm …’
What the hell was I supposed to say to that?
‘Can I get a selfie?’ The woman pulled a phone from her pocket and smiled brightly. ‘Or your friend could take it for us?’
What was it Patrick had said – it was important fans always walked away with a positive experience.
My shoulders relaxed. Someone happy to hand their phone over to a stranger probably wasn’t going to do something weird. ‘Yeah, sure. Why not. Laura, do you mind?’
My twin gave me a look that said quite clearly that this was not what she’d signed up for, but she took the phone from the woman anyway and nodded. ‘All right, smile, you two.’
The woman threw an arm around me and held me close, far closer than was comfortable, but she was grinning at the camera, so I smiled as hard as I could and tried not to breathe in her sharp jasmine perfume.
‘Thank you so much, Jessy,’ she said with a grin. ‘I hope he’s treating you well, petal. Showering you with jewels, that sort of thing.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, my stomach twisting. ‘Well, it was nice to meet you.’
Thank goodness she got the hint, walking away with another quick thanks over her shoulder before turning the corner, her gaze fixed on her phone.
‘Weird,’ Laura muttered. ‘But I guess you are now with Patrick Tetlow, international celebrity. Bound to happen eventually.’
‘Yeah.’ No wonder Patrick wore those ridiculous hats and pulled them low over his face. If that was just one person, and it made me feel that uncomfortable …
‘Right, I gotta go. Those analysis spreadsheets won’t review themselves,’ Laura said, pulling me into a hug before glancing up at the Phoenix Hotel for a last time. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, yeah?’
This time my smile was natural. ‘No promises.’
‘Yes?’ The doorman’s gaze flickered over me in barely veiled disapproval as I stepped forward.
It was all I could do not to roll my eyes. I mean, what the hell did he think I was doing, other than walking towards the door? ‘I’m meeting someone. A friend.’
A friend.
The doorman raised an eyebrow. ‘Indeed.’
OK, fine, this was a fancier place than I had thought, and I definitely wasn’t dressed for it. The sudden downpour of summer rain as I’d left my hotel meant I’d thrown on an old raincoat that had definitely seen better days, but underneath I was wearing a pretty passable sundress.
‘Right. In y’go.’
It wasn’t the warmest of welcomes, and it was perfectly matched by the unimpressed expression on the receptionist’s face as I stepped towards the front desk.
‘Are you lost?’ he asked with a look of pity.
I did my best not to scowl. OK, I looked a little out of place – but some of the richest people in the world wore tatty old clothes, didn’t they? Wasn’t that the point of old money, that it looked like they didn’t have any money at all?
‘I’m here to meet Patrick Tetlow,’ I said, pulling my raincoat around me a little tighter. ‘I’m Jessy Donovan.’
The moment I dropped Patrick’s name – or revealed mine – everything changed.
The receptionist rose to his feet and inclined his head as though he were bowing – actually bowing. What the –
‘Of course, I quite understand,’ he said, deference dripping from every syllable. ‘I hadn’t realized – but, of course. Upstairs, second room to the left. The Winter Suite.’
The staircase was one of those that swooped around, all marble handrails and red velvet carpet. The landing was opulent, there was no other word for it. Chandeliers and fancy paintings galore.
The Winter Suite.
Unsure of whether I was supposed to be waiting for Patrick outside the room or not, I opened the door slowly … and immediately wished the floor would swallow me up.
‘– and that was the inspiration for – ah. Jessy.’ Patrick’s smile was warm as he glanced over at me from where he was sitting on the sofa.
But he wasn’t alone.
Beside Patrick, sitting in an ornate armchair that looked as though Marie Antoinette might have used it to play whist, or whatever it was she did, was a woman. She looked roughly my age, was dressed impeccably and held a phone in her hand. It was recording.
Oh, shit.
‘Jessy,’ Patrick repeated, his smile making me a little weak in the knees. ‘Are we running late?’
‘I’m sorry, I hadn’t really noticed the time,’ the woman said, shooting daggers at me like I’d interrupted something important.
Which I probably had, from the looks of it.
‘Wait.’ The woman’s gaze sharpened as she took in my still-soggy raincoat and surely messy hair. ‘Jessy? Jessy Donovan?’
I looked instinctively to Patrick, unsure of what to do.
‘Our readers will love this,’ the woman continued, gushing. ‘An intimate conversation with the lead singer of These Exiles … and his new girlfriend.’
My stomach was desperately attempting to leave my body, and the trouble was, I wanted to leave with it.