Chapter 6
LAILA
I didn’t think I’d been this nervous since I went for my last job interview years ago.
Even when I went on those odd dates from the apps, I didn’t feel like this.
My palms were clammy, my heart was racing and I swear I’d weed three times in half an hour before I finally left my room two minutes ago and took the lift to the restaurant on the ground floor.
And wearing these new heels wasn’t helping.
I hobbled along the perfectly polished marble floors, desperately trying not to fall. If I didn’t slip and break my neck then the pain of squeezing my feet into these torture contraptions people called stilettos was sure to get me.
Normally I lived in comfy flat shoes or trainers so this was a real departure. So was being sucked into this figure-hugging, cleavage-spilling red dress. I felt like a stuffed turkey.
‘Good evening, Laila,’ Claude greeted me as soon as I stepped through the restaurant doors.
The huge room was the kind of place I’d imagine the rich and famous hiring for a wedding reception.
It had the same tall white marble columns that I saw in reception, but what really struck me was the striking domed glass ceiling.
As it was starting to get dark, I couldn’t see much right now, but I’d imagine that in the daytime the room would be flooded with lots of lovely natural light.
The square tables were covered with thick white tablecloths and gold-trimmed plates and gold cutlery were neatly arranged on top.
They didn’t even have normal dining chairs. Instead, they were elegant gold armchairs that looked so comfy, you could probably sit in them for hours without your bum hurting. I supposed they’d done that deliberately to encourage couples to stay and chat with their match all night.
‘Hi!’ I said.
‘Is your room to your satisfaction?’
‘Everything’s perfect, thank you.’
‘Excellent. Your match has arrived safely at the hotel and will be here shortly. In the meantime, please allow Beno?t, our ma?tre d’, or in Love Hotel language, your Dining Director, to show you to your table.’
‘Merci,’ I nodded, excitement pulsing through my veins.
This is it.
I was now just minutes away from meeting the man of my dreams.
Crazy to think that before Juliette, Marjorie and Cordelia showed me the deposit receipt, I had very little interest in meeting anyone. But now I was so excited I felt like I was about to explode.
Ever since I’d got here, I’d tried telling myself to lower my expectations about my match.
But everything about the hotel so far had been first class: the transportation, the hotel interior, the champagne (I may have asked for an extra glass), my room and the customer service, so as cynical as I typically was, it was hard not to expect that my match would be perfect too.
I followed Beno?t to the table, where he pulled out a chair for me and I sank into the plush seat (which I’m pleased to report was even comfier than it looked), my heart thundering against my chest.
‘Perhaps you would like to look at the menu whilst you wait?’ he suggested.
‘Yes, please. I need something to calm my nerves.’
‘I understand. I am sure that your match will be perfect.’
‘Here’s hoping!’ I said, before glancing at my watch.
I started looking over the menu. Everything sounded so delicious. Just as I was trying to decide whether to opt for the steak frites or the fancy French stew, the scent of a rich, delicious-smelling aftershave surrounded me and I heard Claude’s voice.
‘Madame Laila, I am delighted to introduce you to your match!’
A wide grin spread across my face and my head snapped up, eager to see the man of my dreams who already smelt amazing.
But when I saw who was in front of me, my smile dropped and my expression switched to shock, then confusion before shifting to sheer disbelief.
It couldn’t be.
‘G-Gabriel?’ I stuttered, my throat contracting as I struggled to speak. ‘Wh-what are you doing here? This is—’
‘Incredible!’ Gabriel finished my sentence.
‘You have met before?’ Claude looked at me, then at Gabriel and back again.
‘Yes! Gabriel’s… He’s my… best friend’s son!’ I gasped, my heart was thundering so violently I was certain it was about to shoot out of my chest. ‘There must be some mistake!’ I looked at Claude, praying that somehow he’d introduced Gabriel to the wrong person.
‘There is no mistake,’ Claude said calmly. ‘Gabriel is your match.’
How could he be so relaxed?
Did he not just hear what I said?
This was a disaster on so many different levels.
‘It is wonderful to see you again.’ Gabriel flashed me a warm smile and for a second I found myself marvelling at how perfect his teeth were. All dazzling white, straight and surrounded by beautiful plump lips and…
What the hell?
I shouldn’t be looking at his mouth!
Or how muscular his body looked in that crisp white shirt with the top few buttons undone that exposed a hint of his smooth chest.
This was Juliette’s son.
It didn’t matter that he was a grown man.
Gabriel was her pride and joy.
The most treasured person in her life.
Her universe.
There was no way on God’s green earth that she would be happy about me, a woman who was at least twelve years older, dating him.
Even though she’d used her rich lover’s money to pay for me to come here, she’d be pissed if she knew thousands of pounds had been spent for me to be matched with her son.
No, no, no. This couldn’t work.
Hell would freeze over before she accepted this.
‘I am sure that the two of you have a lot to catch up on,’ Claude said, clearly oblivious to the alarm bells sounding in my head. ‘I will leave you to it.’
I wanted to scream, No! Whatever you do, do not leave me alone with him, but Claude had already disappeared.
‘May I?’ Gabriel gestured to his chair, but I couldn’t even answer.
My head was still spinning as I tried to process the enormity of what was happening and most importantly how I could get myself out of it.
Fuck.
I thought coming to this hotel was a dream, but now that I’d been introduced to my match, it’d just become my worst nightmare.