“I was thirty-eight, straight out of the forces when his father hired me,” he says, confirming my suspicions.
“Do you always drive his—” I pause, looking for the right word. “Female friends.”
I definitely wouldn’t call Mase my friend.
“No, you’re the only ‘female friend’ I’ve been asked to drive.” He says with a grin.
Hmm, interesting. Does Mason feel bad about calling me a prostitute, so now he is palming me off on his driver?
Or is he actually interested?
“He normally drives them himself?” I ask, and god, I sound pathetic.
“Maybe you should ask him yourself?” he says. I take the hint, not asking any more questions for the rest of the journey.
Vinny turns in his seat once we arrive at my building, passing me a card. “My number if you need a lift ever. Mr Lowell would be grateful if you’d call me when travelling alone.”
I roll my eyes, slipping the card into my bag with the rest of my junk. I don’t need my own personal taxi! Who even has that much money that they can just send a driver on demand? “Thank you again for the lift,” I say, climbing from the car and then waving him off.
* * *
I’m halfwaydown Oxford street, admiring my shining new phone screen, which I haven’t been able to use since Megan smashed it, and I’m shocked at how much I’ve missed it. Scrolling through my messages on the lock screen, I close my eyes, cursing my friends under my breath.
The messages are mostly from Lucy and Megan. They knew I was picking it up, and they’ve sent me a load of dirty messages. The latest one reading, ‘You left your vibrator in the shower again’. It’s the first message on the list, and there’s no way the repair guy wouldn’t have seen it.
I scroll down the list.
‘Ben called, he’s got the Syph! Better get checked hun’ I laugh out loud, unable to control myself. Those bitches! I will kill them!
Swiping across the screen, I see I have six missed calls, all from Joey. I really should check he is okay. I decide to call him back, and he answers on the second ring.
“Nina! Hi, I’ve been calling. Are you okay?” he rushes out, sounding genuinely worried.
My step falters with his tone, his concern throwing me off. “Hi Joey, I’m fine. I smashed my phone screen, and I’ve just picked it up from the repair shop.”
“Ah, yeah. That makes sense. Do you want to meet for a coffee? I am working just up the road from your studio today.”
“I’m actually heading home, Joey. Sorry,” I lie and instantly feel bad. I start to backpedal. “Maybe tomorrow?” Oh god, stop talking, Nina. I put my hand on my head as I try and worm my way through the conversation. I might as well have met him today. Get it over and done with.
“Yes! Tomorrow is fine. I will meet you at the studio. What time?”
“That’s okay. I’ll meet you at the café. Is The Elm okay? Let’s say, at twelve o’clock?”
It’s close for me to get back after and I’d rather go somewhere I know, in case I need to make a quick exit.
“Sounds good Nina, I’m looking forward to seeing you.”
“You too, Joey. See you tomorrow!” I hang up, regretting calling him in the first place. He is obviously okay.
I want to launch my phone at the ground because of my inability to say no. I refrain myself, though, glaring down at my reflection in my shiny new screen.
* * *
It’s latewhen I finish my last lesson. Henry left an hour ago, locking up the gym behind him. I had one of my under fourteens in for a one-to-one session this evening. It’s a great little money booster for me with bills to pay, but more importantly, it shows me their passion for dancing.
The studio lights illuminate the room as darkness blankets the vast world outside. It’s my favourite time of day to be here and the only time I allow myself to switch off fully.
Making my way over to the speaker, I plug in my phone and find the song I want. Alessia Cara pours from the speakers moments later, singing about being beautiful just the way you are. I close my eyes and let the music take over my soul, dancing around the studio as I get lost in the only form of therapy my body knows.
