Jane covered her face with her hands. She’d bottled it. She’d completely bottled it. His brother arriving made her lose her nerve. She looked down and saw her hands were shaking. Zeph was a little shit – too clever and cocky for his own good – but he’d hit the nail on the head with his brother. She wasn’t good-looking enough for him. They were completely different. She lived on a scruffy houseboat, he was a top exec probably with a penthouse office and a view of the world. He liked order, she was all over the place – she didn’t even know yet what her own version of normality was. He lived tight and controlled and she had been taught to live like the wind. She had no tethers, no ties. He had a great big company that he carried on his back like a snail shell.
She wasn’t his type.
And yet he’d hung around on the doorstep clearly wanting to stay. She wasn’t so far out of the dating pool that she couldn’t read the most blatant of signs.
And she’d shut the door on him.
For what? What was she doing tomorrow? she thought, looking at her neatly arranged sofa cushions and the cleared-away table. Someone else would be sleeping in this room, her dream would be over. She’d be hauling her suitcase in the heat back to the Tube and back to her boat.
In what way was that better than possibly having one crazy, sexy night with this really hot guy?
Who was she kidding?
She wasn’t better than him or above all this.
She was just stupid and afraid and nervous and she’d bottled it.
She turned and looked at herself in the mirror. Jane, you idiot. You complete blithering idiot.
She couldn’t go to sleep now, her brain was too wired. Too busy berating her.
What a fool.
She glanced at Will’s robe hanging on the bathroom door, then across to the huge big bed in her room. She could be being seduced right this second. But then, maybe not. When she thought he was going to kiss her he’d simply touched his head to hers. Why hadn’t he kissed her? Had he thought her unkissable?
Stop thinking about it. It’s over.
What time was it?
Twenty to twelve.
The bar was still open for twenty minutes. As Will would say, enough time for an Old Fashioned.
Stop thinking about Will.
Could she go to the bar on her own?
Yes. Of course she could. This was the adventure and she’d already messed up one key element by letting him go. But she couldn’t go down dressed in her shorts and hoody, so she pulled her damp jeans back on and the white top with the red buttons that had dried, tied back her hair and rubbed a bit of bronzer on her face so she didn’t look so pale. Slipping the almost-dry sandals back on, she grabbed her purse and her phone and went down to the bar.
It was quiet in the corridor but the lights were still blazing. She felt like she should tiptoe. Like she was heading off for a midnight feast.
The air smelt heady of roses.
‘Evening, madam,’ said the concierge as she walked past the desk.
‘Hi.’ She gave him a little wave before aiming for the bar.
Before she had a chance to reach for the handle, the concierge had slipped out from behind his desk and held the door open for her.
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re more than welcome, madam.’
Jane’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness. There weren’t many people left. A couple of girls sipping cocktails at the table nearest the door. A man sitting alone at the bar that she thought for one heart-stopping second might be Will but then she saw a strip of bright-red sock and realised that it wasn’t.
The barman who had served her earlier was still behind the bar.
‘Hi again,’ she said.
He glanced up at her and for a second clearly didn’t recognise her, but when he did his face looked shocked.
‘Yeah I’m back,’ she said with a laugh, thinking his surprise was due to her late-ish night-cap. ‘Can I have an Old Fashioned, please?’ she asked and he nodded, giving her a quick wary glance before he turned around to fill a glass with ice.
Jane reached up to see if she had something on her face, then stood up on her stool and tried to check her reflection in the mirror behind the bar.
It was then that she saw him. Will.
She sat back in her seat for a second before turning round, hoping maybe she’d made a mistake.
She swivelled the stool round.
Yep, it was him.
Will was sitting in one of the leopard-print armchairs along the back wall, he’d pulled it round so it was pushed right up close to the chair next to it. His arm was draped over the back of the other chair, his fingers toying with the long blonde curls of the woman who was sitting in it. He’d managed to twirl one whole curl around his forefinger and was tugging it gently.
Jane reached up and touched the strands of her hair that had come loose from her ponytail. The same strands he’d touched earlier.
The girl was giggling. Her legs were crossed and her bare knees angled to her left so that they pressed up against his thigh. As Jane watched, the woman leant over and picked up Will’s drink – what looked an Old Fashioned, same as Jane’s – and took a sip, screwing up her face at the strength of it and giggling again. He lifted up his hand and wiped the remains of the liquid off her bottom lip. Her tongue nipped out and licked his thumb.
Jane didn’t know what face to make.
She felt shattered. But she was never going to let anyone see that.
Instead she did a big huff and said, ‘Unbelievable,’ as she turned back around towards the barman. Then, ‘You could have warned me,’ she said as he put the Old Fashioned down in front of her, a little sheepish.
She looked down at the drink that she didn’t want at all, picked it up, ditched the lemon slice and drank it in two huge gulps. Her whole body shuddered.
‘Right. Well,’ she said, standing up and giving her head a quick shake from the aftershocks of the alcohol, desperate to get the hell out of there. She put the glass down and said, ‘A worthwhile trip,’ to the barman who was watching her with pity.
Jane didn’t want to turn back and take one last look at Will with the blonde. She wanted to leave the bar with her head held high.
But she did take one last look, she couldn’t not. She saw his hand as it moved up her thigh, resting just under the hem of the woman’s tiny skirt. She saw him say something and the woman giggle again. Then she saw his head turn as if he sensed something and his eyes met hers across the room, his expression stalling in shock.
She didn’t see what he did next because she had left the bar and was walking to the lift, past the huge great roses and the empty piano and all the empty chairs, past the two girls who’d been in the bar posing for photos under the chandelier. Capturing their moment in The Ritz.
It was a fantasy. Will was right. And for Jane it had come to an end.