Chapter 46
That bitch is crazy if she thinks I’m that easily intimidated! Her boyfriend doesn’t scare me.
Message from Randell to Edwin
Kate
Snowflake:
What pub are you at?
I shared my location with Henry. After everything that had happened with Randell, it made me feel safe when he knew where I was. And even if he didn’t say it, I could sense that he felt similarly. My confession about Randell had shaken him.
Me:
I’m with Rose and Grace.
Snowflake:
Is Rose the one who doesn’t like me?
Me:
Yes, but I think it’s mainly because she doesn’t like your dad. Don’t take it personally.
Snowflake:
Good to know.
Me:
Are you still at the office?
Snowflake:
Yes.
Me:
When are you wrapping up for the day?
Snowflake:
Why?
Me:
I don’t want to miss you.
Snowflake:
I need at least two more hours.
Me:
OK. See you later!
“Is everything OK?” Grace asked when she returned to the table with a pint. It was Friday evening, and the pub was full to overflowing. The air was stuffy and stale, heavy with the smell of beer and greasy food. The music coming from the speakers was drowned out by laughter and conversations.
I put my phone away and shouted above the hubbub. My cheeks glowed, and although I was only on my second pint, I was already feeling the alcohol. “Yes! I was just messaging Henry.”
“He should come if he wants!”
“He’s still at the office.”
“Really? It’s so late.”
“He always works late,” I said, wondering how much Grace knew and if I could tell her just how badly things at The Darlington were going. But I didn’t want to ruin the evening, so I decided against it.
“How’s the hunt for a second job going?” Grace asked.
“I have an interview next week.” It was the only positive response I’d gotten to my applications.
Otherwise, I’d received only rejections.
Either I was underqualified, or I wasn’t flexible enough, thanks to my job at The Darlington.
I wanted to ask Tilly about a position at Hope Harbour—my dream job—but I hadn’t been able to get a hold of her by phone for days.
“Where?”
“A 24-hour corner shop,” I replied. “They’re looking for someone to cover the night shift. The pay isn’t great, but the hours wouldn’t be a problem.” Except I’d probably see even less of Henry. But we would find some way to spend time with each other.
Grace made a face. “Sounds like a dangerous job.”
“No more dangerous than . . .” I bit my tongue. I’d almost let slip that it was no more dangerous than sleeping alone on the streets at night. “. . . than going out clubbing at night. Anyway, I’m sure the place has CCTV, and it’s card payments only. It’ll be fine.”
“If you say so,” Grace said, still sounding doubtful.
I changed the topic. “Have you signed up for that dating app yet?”
“Yes! Do you want to see my profile?”
“Of course.”
Grace moved Rose’s bag aside and shuffled closer to me.
While she opened the app on her phone, I glanced around for Rose.
I spotted her almost right away. She was still at the bar with the same man, her hand resting on his arm, their faces just centimetres apart.
I had watched Rose flirting hard all evening, but the sight still caught me off guard.
She always seemed so reserved at the hotel, but here, she was anything but.
“Look!” Grace said, and held her phone in my face.
I took it from her and scrolled through her profile. It was a colourful mix of photos and entertaining facts about Grace. “Have you had any matches yet?”
“Yes, but none of them have really impressed me.”
“What are you looking for? Maybe we’ll find someone here for you,” I said, only half joking.
The pub was packed with men our age. A few of them had already checked Grace out, which was no surprise.
She looked stunning—her long hair cascaded over her shoulders in waves, her lips were painted an alluring red, and she was wearing a black wool dress that emphasised her curves.
“I like tall men with dark hair and broad shoulders,” Grace said, counting off the points on her fingers. “He should also have beautiful eyes. I love beautiful eyes. Especially blue ones.”
I grinned mischievously.
She frowned. “What?”
“Do you know who you’ve just described?”
“Who?”
“Ethan.”
“Darlington?!” she said indignantly.
“Yes,” I said, and started counting off the points on my own fingers. “Ethan is tall, he has dark hair, and he’s sporty. He has a great face and really beautiful blue eyes.”
“You’re only saying that because he looks like Henry.”
“No, I’m saying it because it’s true.”
Grace snorted and started twisting the ring on her index finger. “Maybe, but he’s still not my type. I don’t like arseholes. I want a man who’s nice to me and treats me like a princess. Not a knobhead who dumps rubbish at my feet and whose used condoms I have to get rid of.”
“Gross.” I wrinkled my nose. “Did that really happen?”
“Yeah. Sometimes when he’s drunk, he just leaves them lying around.
But at least he uses them in the first place.
God forbid Satan’s spawn spawns yet more demons.
” She shrugged, and I suspected that her indifference had a lot to do with the three pints she’d already downed.
“Honestly, Ethan just isn’t my type. Maybe appearance-wise, but I want a man I can fall in love with, not one to just sleep with—and Ethan isn’t good for anything else.
He has the emotional intelligence of a rock. ”
I didn’t argue. If I was honest, I didn’t want her getting close to Ethan, not even physically.
Not because he was a loser, but because he very clearly was smoking weed, and I didn’t want to watch Grace be dragged into the same mess my mum had been in.
Ethan could do what he wanted for all I cared, as long as he stayed away from Grace.
We talked for a while about the dating app, with Grace showing me some of her matches, until Rose returned to the table and announced she was heading home with Shane.
We told her to have fun and decided to stay a little longer.
Grace and I played a round of pool with two men, and the cocktails they insisted on buying for us went straight to my head and made everything seem funnier.
I hadn’t laughed so much in a long time, and I loved the feeling of lightness and freedom the alcohol gave me.
So when the men showed up with a tray of shots, I didn’t say no.
By the time the pub closed and the bartenders kicked everyone out, Grace and I were pretty drunk.
The men asked if we wanted to go to a place a few doors down with them, but we declined and called a taxi.
The driver dropped me off at The Darlington before taking Grace home.
The hotel lobby was quiet except for a few partygoers heading up to the rooftop bar.
The restaurant had already closed, and most guests were either in their rooms or out enjoying London’s nightlife.
I picked up my key from Naomi at the reception desk, but I didn’t head for the lifts.
Instead, I entered the staff-only area at the back of the hotel.
The sound of my footsteps echoed through the long corridors as I made my way to Henry’s office.
When I knocked on the door, the sound seemed unnaturally loud in the stillness.
“Come in,” Henry called.
I pushed open the door and stumbled inside. The room was dim, lit only by the lamp on the desk Henry sat behind.
“Heeeeey,” I said, drawing out the word.
Henry grinned. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
I leaned against the doorframe—standing upright was too much effort, especially with the floor shifting so unhelpfully beneath me. Did Henry know that his floor was moving?
“Picking you up. You have to take me to bed.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No.” I giggled. “Yes!”
With his eyes on mine, Henry closed his laptop and switched off the lamp, plunging us into a darkness broken only by the lights of the city outside.
He came around the desk and stopped in front of me.
My heart still raced every time I saw him.
It was outrageous how good he looked after an absurdly long day of work.
His hair was tousled from running his fingers through it, and he had taken off his tie and undone the top buttons of his shirt.
I would love to undo the rest of them . . .