Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ella
Friday evening had come around incredibly quickly, and I found myself pacing my living-room floor, waiting for Philip Khan to pick me up.
I had already FaceTimed Zola and Katy three times, questioning my night, my outfit, and my entire existence on this earth.
Truth be told, I wasn’t up for an evening of cheesy chat-up lines and his suave efforts to wine, dine and sixty-nine me.
Nevertheless, as planned, I wore my silky black dress and tonged a loose wave into my long blonde hair.
I added dark eyeliner and subtle makeup to my face.
Despite my trepidation, I felt good. It was the first time I had been dressed up this way for a long time, and although I didn’t want to give Philip the wrong impression – that I had made all of this effort for him – at the same time, I wanted an excellent write-up for the Dicktionary Club to go live.
Our launch date was fast approaching, now just a week away.
And while the girls racked up the reviews, I knew Philip would be the perfect candidate for our standout feature.
Most women would be intrigued by what a night with the multi-millionaire was like, and I also accepted that, from a marketing perspective, this would help sell the hell out of subscriptions to the website.
So, cautiously, I flicked back my hair and waited for him to arrive.
I’m here. P x
Instantly, my heart began beating fast in my chest. I lifted my bag, phone and keys, applied another layer of gloss to my lips, then headed out into the hallway.
I fastened up my bag, and as I headed down the old stone tenement staircase I watched Philip’s eyes gawp at me through the glass pane once more. I pulled open the door and smiled.
‘Hey,’ I said.
Philip looked unbelievably smart in a black tuxedo, so I was immediately glad about my dress choice.
‘Hey, yourself.’ His eyes darted down my body and eventually returned to my face. ‘You look incredible,’ he said, edging forward in an attempt to kiss my cheek.
I dodged the kiss by taking a small step towards the outside stairs and turned back to him. He was smirking.
‘Not a hugger or a kisser? Noted.’
I faced the road, feeling somewhat in control.
‘Yeah, I’m not much of either,’ I said, trying to hide my amusement. ‘Where’s the car?’ I asked.
Philip caught up with me and pointed to a black Range Rover. A man was sitting in the driver’s side.
‘You’re not driving?’ I asked.
‘No. I thought I’d join you in the back. I got us a nice bottle of champagne,’ he said, heading towards the vehicle and opening the door for me.
There was no denying it: this man had exceptional manners. I slipped into the back and watched the twinkling lights on the ceiling give a starry-night effect. My Fiat 500 was lucky if it had half a tank of fuel in it.
Philip wandered to the other side and joined me.
‘Thanks, Pat. That’ll be us now,’ he said in his deep voice to the driver.
Pat pulled out and we headed towards the motorway.
Philip poured me a glass of champagne and handed it over; I waited for him to pour his own, then held my glass up.
‘To your new bar. I wish you all the luck in the world with it,’ I said.
Philip’s dark eyes hung on mine for a second, then he grinned. ‘Thank you. And to your exhibition! It’s getting closer.’
‘Yep, next week.’ I grinned.
We clinked our glasses together, and I sipped at the bubbles.
‘Which door do you actually live at, by the way?’ Philip asked as he took a swig.
‘What do you mean?’ I laughed. ‘You were just at my house.’
‘No, I was outside your home. But normally, people let me up. It is courteous, you know, rather than leaving someone outside in the cold.’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t let strange men into my home. Plus, it’s like twenty degrees, Philip.’
‘Strange men? Wow.’ He sank back into his seat.
‘You know what I mean.’ I laughed it off. ‘I just like my space to myself, I guess.’
‘I bet you’re a secret hoarder or something. Do you have pets? Maybe you have a zoo up there and don’t want me seeing how you really live,’ he suggested playfully.
I paused, wondering if this was some reverse psychology trick to get back to my apartment later. ‘Yeah, I’m a secret hoarder. How did you know?’
Philip smirked, knowing I wasn’t falling for his tricks.
‘Have you always lived alone, Pilates?’
Fuck, every time he said that name, it gave me the fear. I rolled my eyes at him for teasing me for it.
‘No, not always.’
Philip hummed. ‘It’s going to be a long night if you don’t engage in conversation.’
I simpered. ‘Well, nosy, I lived with my ex, Joshua, for a while. It was another flat, though. I’ve always lived alone in this one,’ I told him.
‘And why is Joshua an ex?’
I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I didn’t want this man’s pity or to look like a damsel requiring rescue, so I mimicked his earlier hum.
‘We were young, and I wanted different things. I was really passionate about my career, he was passionate about other things, so ultimately, we were incompatible.’
‘Ahh. I see.’ Philip pondered. I could tell he was thinking up his next question, but I didn’t fancy chatting about Joshua again.
‘Have you ever lived with anyone?’ I asked.
Philip sighed. ‘Oh yes!’
I started to laugh, unsurprised.
‘I was married,’ he said.
I felt my brows rise to my hairline. Jesus, my Google searches hadn’t told me that!
‘But we divorced after a few months. I like to think of it as an expensive mistake.’ He laughed, but we both knew it wasn’t funny. ‘And after that, I suppose I was never interested in settling down.’
My ears pricked up a little, knowing this could be the moment I needed for the website.
‘Do you date a lot now then?’ I tried to ask him as casually as possible, taking another drink.
‘I wouldn’t say date.’ He adjusted his bow tie.
Permanent fuck boy status , I thought.
‘More like, have fun.’ He shrugged.
My mind searched for a reply that wouldn’t make me sound like I was judging him. I wanted him to expand, but at the same time, I felt the need to stand up for the women he’d undoubtedly hurt along the way.
‘Do the women you have fun with realise they are just playthings?’
Philip seemed surprised. He turned to properly face me. ‘Well, I do try to make it clear. Let’s say, I wouldn’t invite them to a bar opening or anything with substance like that.’
If this was his attempt at flattery, a way to say I was different from the rest, then he was doing a terrible job of it.
‘So, you would just turn up at their workplace with flowers and Chinese takeaway?’
Philip laughed uncomfortably. ‘Most women would be happy with that gesture, you know.’
I rolled my eyes and turned to face out the window. Suddenly, I felt Philip’s warm hand touch my chin, turning my head back to his.
‘I don’t look at you like a plaything. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say here.’
I gazed at his perfect bone structure. For a moment I understood exactly how irresistible this man could be. He was breathtakingly gorgeous.
I pulled my face free from his grasp.
‘Men love a challenge, and personally, I think you are only so interested because of how uninterested I am,’ I replied.
Something curious flashed behind his eyes, but then he smirked. ‘And yet, here you are sitting in my car,’ he whispered.
I could feel my heart pound like I was running alongside the car on the motorway at seventy miles an hour. What the fuck was happening? I felt as if I was almost panting for breath.
‘It was the least I could do for securing the art gallery.’
Philip hummed a little once more. ‘How is that going? Tell me all about the plans.’
For the next forty minutes, I divulged everything I could about hosting Alexander’s night at Kelvingrove and my ideas for promoting him as an artist in Glasgow. My heart rate eventually settled as we talked more casually about my work, his work, and his up-and-coming business trip to Berlin.
I grinned, noticing the view from the window had changed to a picturesque landscape of Edinburgh.
It was only a short car journey away, but the entire backdrop was different.
From the hilly cobbled streets to the jumble of medieval-looking buildings, Edinburgh seemed a million miles away from Glasgow, but every bit as beautiful.
Eventually, the car pulled up onto a bustling, crowded street in the Old Town.
Philip glanced out the window and let out a small puff of air, making the glass steam up a little.
‘Well, it certainly looks busy!’
For the first time since knowing him, he seemed nervous.
‘Of course, it does,’ I reassured him, glancing out the window. ‘The Cocktail Castle,’ I said, reading the sign that lit up the bar in gold shiny letters. ‘Nice!’
The street was lined with people hoping for a spot at the newest bar in town, and I couldn’t blame them; from the outside the place was the picture of sophistication, situated in the heart of the Royal Mile with spectacular views of Edinburgh Castle.
I gulped down the last of my champagne and peeked up at him. He was still glaring out of the window, taking it all in.
‘Hey,’ I said, snapping him from his trance.
‘Yes, sorry?’
‘Will we head in?’ I asked.
He was biting his lip, clearly anxious about his newest venture.
‘It’s going to be a great night. Look how rocking it is already!’ I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. He immediately rested his hand back on mine.
‘Thank you.’