Chapter 25
Write to M about V.
Note on Henry’s phone
Henry
The first journalists were arriving at the press conference where I was about to announce the Pearl Gala.
I could hear their voices, the clicking of their cameras, and the snapping of their tripods being tested and set up.
I paced restlessly back and forth in a small room behind the stage, using a ballpoint pen to correct the speech that Vivian had handed me this morning to read out.
It wasn’t an announcement, though. It was a bad joke.
Twenty-five percent of it was about the hotel and the gala, the other seventy-five waxed lyrical about my dad’s dedication and commitment, as if he gave a shit about the gala.
He only cared about how it could restore his reputation.
He hadn’t even asked me what organisation we were supporting this year.
“Mr. Darlington?” came a bright voice from next to me.
I looked up to see a woman with auburn hair and gold-rimmed glasses.
She was wearing a colourful jacket adorned with a rainbow broach.
This could only be Matilda Gallagher from Hope Harbour, a national organisation dedicated to helping the homeless.
Its headquarters were in Glasgow, but it had branches across Britain and Ireland.
“Mrs. Gallagher?”
She nodded. “Yes, but you can call me Tilly.”
“Henry.” I shook her hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose nervously. “Thanks for having us. Everyone at Hope Harbour is completely over the moon. It’s incredible that The Darlington chose to raise money for us at this year’s gala. We thought at first that the request was a joke.”
I laughed, which, thanks to my headache, felt terrible. “No, we’re completely serious.”
“I can tell,” said Tilly, glancing in the direction of the journalists’ voices, which were growing ever louder. “Still, it really surprised us. We asked your grandmother a few years ago, but she turned us down because she thought it would be better to support international charities.”
“Yes, Hope Harbour is the first local organisation we’re supporting.”
“Can I ask how this has come about? Rakesh told me on the phone that it was your suggestion.”
“A friend, Kate, gave me the idea.”
The door opened, and my dad came in with Vivian.
My shoulders tensed and the atmosphere in the room changed immediately.
But perhaps I was just imagining it. Vivian put on her most charming fake smile and made a beeline for Tilly, who nervously adjusted her glasses again even though they were sitting perfectly.
“You must be Mrs. Graham from Hope Harbour.”
“Gallagher,” Tilly corrected. “But you can call me Tilly.”
“I’m Mrs. Edwards, and this is Mr. Richard Darlington,” Vivian said, as if my dad were incapable of introducing himself.
“We’re so happy that the Pearl Gala can support Hope Harbour this year.
Mr. Darlington chose your organisation himself.
The well-being of Londoners is a matter very close to his heart. ”
“I know, we were just talking about it,” Tilly said and gave me a warm smile, a stark contrast to the cold looks Vivian and my dad were shooting me. They’d become even icier when they noticed that I’d cut the praise for my dad from the speech.
“Henry suggested it, but it was Mr. Darlington who made the final decision to support Hope Harbour.” Vivian’s voice was sweet, but her words were bitter and laced with an unspoken warning that I hold my tongue.
I ignored her. “That’s not true.”
My dad let out a hollow laugh, and the wrinkles around his joyless eyes deepened. “Henry, let’s be honest.”
“In which case, you should try telling the truth for once,” I retorted.
I wasn’t interested in praise. Rakesh was welcome to take all the recognition from Hope Harbour.
He’d selected and contacted the organisations, and all I’d done was give my approval at the end.
My dad, on the other hand, hadn’t lifted a finger in the last weeks, neither for the gala nor the hotel.
Meanwhile, I’d been working eighteen-hour shifts for days, hunched over my desk until late at night, cleaning up his mess.
The Darlington now had an average occupancy of just 50 percent, and the numbers were trending downward.
If reservations didn’t pick up soon, we’d have to lay off even more staff despite the many resignations, because there just wasn’t enough work to go around.
The hotel was a service business, and if there was no one to use the service, the staff were paid to do nothing.
On top of that, I was frustrated—I hadn’t seen Kate in days while my dad had been off doing god knows what.
He was probably screwing Vivian. How else could I explain their mutual sucking up?
“Mrs. Gallagher . . . Tilly,” Vivian said, “how do you feel about getting a coffee?” Before Tilly could answer, Vivian grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away from me and my dad. He waited until the two women were out of earshot before speaking.
“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed.
“I could ask you the same thing. You chose Hope Harbour? I bet you didn’t even know the name of the organisation until Vivian whispered it to you at the door,” I retorted, defiantly looking him in the eye. The vein on his forehead stood out more with every word I spoke.
My dad took a step towards me, and a cloud of his heavy, musky aftershave hit me in the face. We’d been the same height just a few years ago, but he’d shrunk a couple of centimetres with age. “We agreed that we’d communicate it that way.”
“You and Vivian agreed. I never did.”
My dad’s eyes narrowed, and he looked at me with more disdain than a parent should feel for their child.
I didn’t want it to hurt, but there was a stabbing in my chest that was hard to ignore.
“It looks like running the hotel has gone to your head,” he said, his voice cutting through me like a sharpened blade.
“I hope you know that you’re only in this position because a couple of sluts think they can fuck me over.
As soon as I’ve taken them down in court, I’ll take over running the hotel again.
You should bear that in mind before you start playing the big man. ”
I clenched my teeth. The Darlington was my hotel, and he would get it back over my dead body.
Regardless of what happened in court, my dad and his reputation were the reason why there might soon no longer be a hotel.
If I managed to save it, I sure as hell wouldn’t let him have it without a fight.
But telling him that would have been a waste of breath, and I had to prepare for the press conference.
I needed to impress the journalists, and I couldn’t do that in my current state.
“I’m going for a piss,” I said, bumping him with my shoulder as I pushed past him. It was a childish move, but it gave me a small sense of satisfaction.
“Henry!”
I stopped and immediately regretted it. I waited with my hand on the doorknob, refusing to turn around.
“While you’re at it, ask your mum if she has concealer she can give you. You look like shit.”
Because of you, I thought, but I wasn’t about to open up the discussion again. I swallowed down the words and left the room.
I met Tilly in the hallway. She was holding a coffee, but Vivian was nowhere to be seen. I told her I’d be right back and headed for the nearest men’s restroom. I quickly checked if the stalls were empty—I needed a moment to myself.
I was alone. After using a urinal, I washed my hands. I caught my reflection in the mirror. My dad was right—I couldn’t sugarcoat it. I looked like crap.
I had had a sleepless night. I hadn’t been able to get Kate and the image of her in the bath out of my mind.
And after that, I couldn’t shake thoughts of the upcoming press conference, and how much I wanted the Pearl Gala to be a success.
Not just for the sake of the hotel but, more importantly, for Hope Harbour, who could put the money to good use and create meaningful change in the city.
Sometime well past midnight, I had given up trying to sleep and got on the elliptical trainer to quiet my thoughts and burn off all that destructive energy.
But even that hadn’t helped. After taking an ice-cold shower to shock myself even more awake, I’d finally gone to the office—at 4 a.m. So yeah, I looked like shit.
At least I wasn’t a piece of shit like my dad.
I breathed deeply to gather myself, preparing for a barrage of unpleasant questions.
Vivian had informed the journalists that I wouldn’t be making a statement about my dad, but they would probably still dig for answers.
A few weeks ago, I’d thought we’d survived the worst of the media frenzy, but I had been wrong.
It had been a shitstorm before, but we were now about to be hit by a shit hurricane. I knew I would have to face it.
I let go of the sink I had been clinging to as if it were a climbing hold at the bouldering gym, but my balance was short-lived. I tensed my shoulders as a sudden wave of wrenching dizziness hit me and I staggered, grabbing the porcelain sink again for support.
Fuck!
I squeezed my eyes shut, but even in the darkness, the world still seemed to be spinning wildly.
Again, I concentrated on my breathing. It took a while for the dizziness to subside.
The throbbing in my head had intensified, and I carefully let go of the sink to reach for the pillbox in my suit jacket pocket.
In that instant, a sudden knock sounded at the door.
I withdrew my hand as Olivia came in. I had told her about the conference, but I hadn’t thought she’d come. We’d not seen each other much lately. We’d both been busy with our own lives.
“Hey,” she greeted me.
I smiled weakly. “You came.”
“Yes. I thought you could use a friendly face,” Olivia said, taking a step towards me.
As always, she looked fantastic. She was wearing elegant trousers and a tight-fitting olive-green top that accentuated her athletic figure.
Several gold chains hung around her neck, and her blond hair cascaded down her back in perfect waves. “Why are you hiding back here?”
“I needed a moment to myself.”
“Understandable.” She leaned against the wall. “That Vivian woman is awful.”
I grinned, but even that was enough to send a stab of pain shooting through my head. Perhaps I’d overdone last night’s workout. “What did she do?”
“She was bossing your mum around when I arrived, as if Amanda works for Vivian and not the other way around. And then she had a go at me for letting you date that grungy girl, Kate. Her words, not mine,” Olivia clarified immediately when she noticed my scowl.
“Have Commander Vivian and your parents even realised yet that she works at the hotel?”
I had told Olivia before Kate’s first day of work that I’d given her not just a room at the hotel but also a job.
Olivia had been thrilled and regularly asked me for updates.
Not that there’d been much to report until last night’s chatting.
I’d barely spoken to Kate, even though I’d thought about her a lot.
“No, they wouldn’t notice unless there was a headline about it,” I answered, attempting to straighten up my twisted tie.
“Which there could be if someone from the press spots Kate here.”
“Then so be it. They’ll find out sooner or later anyway.”
“How is it going with her?” Olivia asked. My mouth twitched, and a spark appeared in my best friend’s eyes. “Tell me everything!”
“We messaged for a while yesterday.”
“Messaged?” She sounded disappointed. “You both live in the hotel.”
“Yes, but I don’t leave the office before ten these days. I gave her one of my old phones so we can at least write to each other.”
“So what did you message about?” Olivia asked. She pushed herself away from the wall and came to straighten my obstinately wonky tie. She smelled of expensive perfume—vanilla with a hint of coconut.
“She sent me a selfie of herself in the bath,” I said with my eyes on Olivia, who was loosening my tie to retie it. “And I replied that I was imagining her naked.”
Olivia looked up abruptly. “You’re kidding! How did she react?”
“She said she wanted a photo of me.”
“Wow. Which one did you send her?”
“The one you took on the C?te d’Azur.”
“That’s a good one. You look very fuckable.”
I grinned. “I know.”
Olivia laughed. She had finished with my tie and took a step back to assess her work from a distance.
Satisfied, she nodded and gestured for me to look in the mirror.
I still looked like shit, but at least my tie was straight.
My thoughts turned from Kate to the journalists, who were probably already waiting for me impatiently.
“Thanks for sorting out my tie.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Can you tell Vivian that I’ll be there soon? I need a minute.”
Olivia nodded and patted my arm before she left the bathroom.
I’d initially liked the idea of a press conference, but that had been before the shit hurricane had blown into my life, and now I wasn’t so sure anymore.
All I wanted was to run the hotel and carry out the plans I’d told Kate about.
I didn’t want to deal with journalists. But it was too late to pull out now.
I took a deep breath to brace myself, and took out the box from my jacket pocket once again.
I swallowed a pill without water, hoping it would cure my exhaustion as well as my headache.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to wait around for it to work its magic.
I straightened my suit one last time. Then I stepped out into the corridor . . .
. . . to meet my fate.