‘Aimee.’
I turned round and, again, it was Mr Arrogant. If he’d looked disappointed in me before, now he looked horrified.
‘It’s Grace,’ I said. ‘Not Aimee.’ I was right…he was just playing with me. He didn’t even know my name.
‘I’m sorry?’ he said.
‘It’s Grace.’
As my words sunk in, he looked stricken. ‘Grace, of course, I’m sorry…that’s what I meant.’ He stepped forward and took hold of my wrist. His hand felt cool against my skin, and he held me gently but firmly, his fingers encircling my arm in a grip I knew I’d be unable to break if I tried. ‘Grace, where are you going?’
‘I…’ I hesitated, looking down at the floor before raising my eyes to meet his gaze. For a moment, I was too ashamed to admit it, but the look of disapproval in his eyes made me defiant. I didn’t have to answer to him, not for smoking, not for anything. ‘I’m going with them.’ I nodded at the guys. They were milling around by the lift, looking over at us impatiently.
‘Where?’ he asked me.
When I didn’t reply, his eyes narrowed and he turned to them. ‘Where are you taking her?’
‘To my room,’ said the one I’d spoken to first. Christ, I didn’t even know their names. I was getting worse. At least, last night, I’d been told the guys names, even if I didn’t catch them all. ‘What the fuck’s it got to do with you?’
‘Do you know who she is?’ Mr Arrogant moved in front of me, still gripping my wrist, as if he thought they might suddenly grab me and run for it.
‘Nah,’ the guy said. ‘But she’s up for it. Have you got a problem with that?’
I could feel the muscles in his hand tense, and he was about to say something when one of the other guys stepped forward. ‘I know who she is,’ he said. ‘I’ve just realised. She’s that bird off the news. The footballer’s wife.’
‘She’s nobody’s wife,’ Mr Arrogant said, then he turned to the doormen. ‘Take them into the office. I’ll deal with them in there.’
The doormen opened a door which I hadn’t even noticed. They held it open for the guys, who hovered in the foyer uncertainly.
‘I’d go in of your own accord, if I were you,’ Mr Arrogant said, coolly. ‘I’d seriously advise against pissing me off any further.’ Then he turned to me. ‘Go to the ladies or whatever you need to do. Then wait for me here. I’ll be five minutes.’
He let go of my wrist and stood there, watching, until I did as I was told and went back into the bar. As I looked over my shoulder at him, I saw him turn and, presumably, follow the rest of them into the office.
Once in the Ladies, I stood with my back to the wall and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was ruffled and my dress was hanging off my shoulder but, more than that, I looked stunned. Hell, I was stunned. I was actually panting, and I felt like I might cry.
I was so angry with him. He’d done it yet again…humiliated me and left me feeling about an inch tall. I didn’t know who I was more cross with…him or myself. I was such a fuck-up. What had I thought I was doing? What if he told Max? Would I have done it if I’d known he was still there? I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected I would have, regardless.
I was tempted to try to make a run for it; to get out of the hotel while he was dealing with the guys in the office. His office, I now realised. The words had only just sunk in. He either managed the place or…
No, he wasn’t the kind to manage anything. He owned things. I wondered if he owned the bar, or the whole hotel. I was inclined to think the latter.
Was it too late to make a break for it? It seemed the best idea. I wasn’t sure I could face seeing him again but, even as I thought about trying to leave, his words came back to me; ‘I’d seriously advise against you pissing me off any further.’
I had a feeling those words had been meant as much for me, as for the guys.
My mouth was dry. I ran some water and leaned forward, cupping my hands to drink it. Christ, I was in one of the most exclusive bars in London, and I had to resort to drinking from the washbasins. It’s my life in a snapshot, I thought, pushing my hair back from my face.
I took one last look at myself. I felt like I was going to my execution, or at least to see the Headmaster at school. Wherever, I was going there. I didn’t have a choice. I’d have to go and wait for him, or risk him coming to find me in the toilets.
And if there was one thing I knew right now, it was that I didn’t put it past him to do it.
When I got back to the foyer, the guys I’d been planning to leave with were just coming out of the office. A couple of them glanced over at me, but the rest didn’t even look in my direction. They just got in the lift and left.
Mr Arrogant followed them out and, after a brief word with his doormen – which I strained to hear, but couldn’t, frustratingly – he came over to me.
‘Shall we go?’ he said, holding his arm out towards the lifts.
As we stood waiting for one to arrive, neither of us spoke. He seemed oblivious to my humiliation. I didn’t know where to look. When I looked around, I kept catching his eye. Every time I did so, he threw me one of his mocking smiles. It was infuriating. In the end, I just looked down at my nails and ignored him.
When the lift arrived, he stood back to let me enter first. I went reluctantly in, and waited while he pressed the bottom button. As the lift started its descent, he turned to me. ‘Smoking’s really not going to help anything,’ he said.
I shrugged. I knew that – I didn’t need him to tell me.
‘Neither is getting yourself screwed by a bunch of guys.’
I looked up at him in shock. It sounded so real, him putting it into words like that…so raw. I was mortified all over again.
Thank god it was one of those super-fast lifts. We reached the ground floor and the doors opened. I immediately headed out, hoping to give him the slip in the foyer and call a cab.
Only it wasn’t the foyer. It wasn’t even the ground floor. It was the basement level – a car park – and there weren’t any cabs. He put his hand in the small of my back, and guided me to a car which was parked just across from the lifts. It was an Aston Martin, low, sleek and charcoal grey. Expensive, without being ostentatious. I was surprised. From my experience with him, I expected to see a bright yellow Lamborghini, at the very least.
He opened the passenger seat door for me. I hesitated. I didn’t even know this guy. What was I doing getting into his car?
‘I’m a friend of Max’s,’ he said, sounding amused. ‘You know this, and yet you were more willing to go off with a group of complete strangers, who were definitely after sex, than to get into a car with me.’
Put like that, it did sound absurd, and I swung down into his car without any further protest.
I just sat there, trying to get my head around what was happening and, once he was in the car, he leaned over and pulled my seat belt across me.
As he leaned into me, I felt myself reacting to his proximity, in spite of myself. My breath caught in my throat and my chest swelled. I could feel myself tingling all over, and I hated myself for it. He was infuriating, but he was also almost irresistibly handsome. ‘I can do up a seat belt,’ I said.
‘You haven’t though, have you?’ He pulled the belt down to the buckle, his hand grazing against my thigh as he did so. ‘You seem entirely incapable of looking out for yourself, if you don’t mind my saying so.’
‘I do mind,’ I said angrily, pushing his hand away and fumbling to do up the belt. ‘I’m perfectly well able to look out for myself, thank you.’