Chapter Seven
Elle
I slanted my eyes to the side and sighed.
‘Wow. That didn’t take long,’ I muttered.
‘For God to answer your prayers and send me?’ A stocky man with cropped hair, sun-bleached at the tips, took up the space between me and Keisha.
I’d learned enough from my dad about reading people to be able to tell immediately from his dominant body language and over-groomed appearance that this man was the nightmare jock she’d been talking about.
If misogyny wasn’t his middle name, narcissism probably would be.
‘For two women enjoying a night out to have it interrupted by a man,’ I corrected him.
‘You didn’t sound like you were enjoying it.’
‘And yet, I was still having more fun than now.’
‘Well ain’t you sassy.’ He looked down at me and puffed out his chest. ‘Or should I say nasty.’
I widened my eyes and looked at Keisha, seeing if she agreed that my next response should be to stab him with my candy cane.
‘Look, we’re not interested in anyone joining us, OK? I’m sure any other time you’d be great company,’ she blatantly lied, ‘but we came here to have a quiet chat about some work issues. That’s it.’
‘So, you’re saying that on another night, you might like to hook up?’ All his attention was on her now. This was the problem with letting men like him down softly – but it was a million times harder for Keisha because if she was anything other than “nice” she got accused of being aggressive.
I tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention back again. ‘We’re saying: no thanks, leave us alone.’
‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ He turned on me so abruptly I recoiled and would’ve toppled off my stool but for the surprise appearance of a firm, warm palm pressing into the middle of my back.
It wasn’t the pest touching me, it was some helpful other person who had appeared, his hand lending me a barrier of strength just long enough for me to regain my balance, before immediately relocating to the table, his shoulder inserted between me and the rabid jock.
My rescuer was clad in a pale blue shirt, only the back of his dark head and a sliver of sharp jaw with a neat short beard visible from the way he was standing in front of me.
‘Logan, let’s leave these women to their drinks. My food’s arrived and I haven’t said hello to anyone else from work yet.’ His accent was English, his voice smoother than Manuka honey and oddly familiar.
I craned my head around on an angle like a demented owl, trying to see his face. It couldn’t be…
Logan set his jaw. ‘I was getting somewhere with—’
‘No. You really weren’t.’ Mystery British Guy interrupted Logan-the-Loser and clapped him on the shoulder in a way that loaned good nature to the outright contradiction.
He was the taller of the two and although not beefy, he held himself so straight, so poised, he radiated confidence, but I could sense tension there too – and no wonder as he was challenging his meat-headed co-worker in front of us.
Logan shrugged him off but moved away to the bar in a sulk, without another word to us. Mystery British Guy watched him go and threw a brief glance and an apology in our direction as he started to move away: ‘Sorry about my colleague’s behaviour. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.’
He disappeared into the crowd of customers waiting at the bar before I got a chance to see his face properly, but my heart was skipping along. God, I really, really thought it might be him…
‘That was a shame,’ Keisha commented.
‘Huh?’ I stopped straining my neck to see over the crowd and gave her back my attention. ‘The unpleasant interruption?’
‘Yeah, but also that the cute British guy didn’t stick around.’ She folded her arms on the table and leaned closer to me. ‘You liked him, right?’
‘No, that’s not it. I think I know him, but I didn’t get a chance to see his face properly.’
‘Yeah? Who d’you think he is?’
‘Stephen, my friend’s boyfriend’s brother.’ A thrill of excitement and dread zoomed down my spine as I said his name. ‘I met him at Christmas when I went to stay in England.’
‘You sure? Wouldn’t he have said “hi”?’
‘I doubt he’d be happy to see me.’
‘Why? What did you do?’ Her eyebrows lifted.
‘What makes you think I did anything?’ I batted my eyelashes innocently.
‘Elle. C’mon. I know you. What happened?’
‘He tried to break up my friend and his brother.’
‘No way, what for?’
‘My friend – you’ve heard me talk about Beth from the hotel? – thinks it’s because he was being protective and suspected her of taking advantage of Nick. She’s got a good heart. I’m more inclined to think there was a touch of jealousy and control-freak personality motivating him.’
‘Wow. This is juicy. So, you got involved in some way?’
‘Yeah. He’d given me his number, but I used it to track down his brother for Beth by pretending I was going to go over to his place on New Year’s for a night of passion.
’ My belly did a little flop as I remembered how I’d felt when he gave me his number.
Just like when Justin from the football team asked me out in high school.
Of course my ego was desperate to believe a gorgeous man was genuinely interested in me – but now I was older and wiser, I’d known it was because I was the only other eligible female available at the hotel.
‘I gave the address to Beth so she could find her soon-to-be boyfriend and they could reconcile and live happily ever after.’
‘Elle.’ She bit her lip. ‘You are diabolical in so many wonderful ways.’
‘Uh-huh.’ I allowed myself a smug little smile. ‘Undermined his evil schemes plus struck a blow to his ego.’
‘I still don’t think he could’ve recognised you just now though – if it was him. I mean, why would he have intervened if he was pissed at you for standing him up?’
‘Good point. Maybe it wasn’t him - he didn’t have a beard at Christmas…
Or maybe he grew one but just forgot what I looked like.
It was six months ago, and he gives his number out to a lot of women, I’m sure.
’ Beth had told me plenty of stories about Stephen’s female visitors when she’d been staying the night with Nick at Stephen’s apartment, how she’d got used to a different woman slinking past them at breakfast time every other week.
Exactly the type of behaviour I expected from a man as good-looking and arrogant as him.
I tapped my candy cane on the edge of my glass, ignoring the little twinge in my chest at the idea that he could really have forgotten me.
It hadn’t exactly been a normal kind of Christmas.
Maybe he hadn’t been particularly attracted to me – I’d been just one more face in the catalogue of females he thought he had to choose from – but the stuff that went on would surely have made it memorable?
I mean, diabolical plan aside, at one point we ended up driving a woman in labour through a blizzard together.
He’d been pretty helpful that night, actually.
Stephen was so hard to predict. I’d got this undercurrent as I spent more time with him at the hotel, that there was something else going on beneath the surface than a self-satisfied banker with a silver tongue.
But then he’d gone and messed things up with Beth and Nick and, like I’d said to Keisha, the jury was still out on his motivations for that.
I really would have loved to figure it out. I hated leaving mysteries unsolved.
‘We should find out for definite if it’s him,’ I announced. ‘It’ll drive me mad wondering.’
‘Fine. But if he’s with his horrible friend you’re not going to join them, are you?’
‘Oh, good Lord, no. We’ll just go for a wander out on the roof garden to see if we can find a spot to enjoy our drinks. If we happen to walk past and get a good look at him that’ll be a bonus.’