He frowns.‘You do know this is a Christmas party?’
‘I’m well aware,’ I say dryly.
He nods at my dress. ‘You need a bit of colour then.’
Before I know what’s happening, Bailey pulls something out of a tote bag, stands up, and plonks a Santa hat on my head. ‘That’s better. You can keep it. I’ve got spares.’
I yank the hat off and throw it at him. ‘No thanks!’
‘Leave her alone, Bailey. Not everyone’s into dressing up like you,’ interjects Lewis from the sidelines.
Bailey bends down to pick the Santa hat from off the floor, his face crimson. I feel a little disconcerted that he’s not saying anything. But his Santa hat move was pushy, and why is he so into Christmas?
Thank God I never have to see him again to find out.
Chapter 3
Lewis leans in closer. ‘So you’ve told me all the ice cream flavours you don’t like. Which onesdoyou like?’
We’re on our fourth round of drinks, and the rum is starting to work its magic. My head feels distinctly floaty and disconnected from my body. The string quartet has been replaced by a DJ, the lights have been lowered, and there’s a mishmash of people dancing. Bailey is out on the floor with Andrea, who’s wearing the Santa hat. His bow tie flashes merrily as he does some kind of jerking robot move. Just seeing him annoys me.
I try to focus on Lewis’s face, which is starting to roll sideways. ‘I like Ben & Jerry’s Pish ... Pish ... Oh no, I can’t say it.’ I lightly bump Lewis’s shoulder. ‘You try.’
‘Pish ... Phish Food,’ he manages. ‘God, you’ve got me going now.’
‘I think Iampished. I was meant to leave an hour ago.’
He smirks. ‘Isn’t this better than an early night and a cup of Horlicks?’
I look away, slightly offended. He’s obviously pinned me as some kind of loser. ‘I’m just not a party person. I should go,’ I mumble, reaching for my purse.
He pats my shoulder lightly and peers into my face. ‘Hey, I’m just teasing. You’re fun to talk to. Stay for a bit longer.’
‘OK. Just for a bit, though,’ I counter. Bailey is now bobbing up and down and it’s making me feel tired just watching him.
So I take it you’re not a fan of elves?’ Lewis says slyly when he sees me staring at Bailey. I quickly look away. ‘Yeah, I had a run-in with a perverted elf when I was a kid,’ I remark before I know what I’m saying.
Lewis snorts but stops laughing when he sees I’m serious. I don’t elaborate on that.‘Er, let’s just say Christmas isn’t my favourite time of year. I find the commercialism nauseating.’
‘I get that, but it’s also a chance to RR&R—reconnect with family, relax, and refocus,’ he says. ‘And presents don’t have to be expensive. It’s the thought that counts.’
I sense Lewis is one of those curious, bordering-on-nosey people who, once they get a whiff of mystery, keep digging until they find out the raw truth. I just shrug. I’m not about to spill my life story to a willing ear at a Christmas party.
The DJ turns up the volume, and I wince at the noise.
‘Why don’t we go somewhere quieter? Have a nightcap,’ Lewis suggests.
I’m instantly suspicious. ‘Where?’
‘My suite.’
I’m impressed despite myself. ‘You have a suite?’
‘My father owns the hotel—of course I have a suite. Come on, it’s getting hard to hear ourselves think out here. And I want to show you the recycled bottle duvet.’
‘Sounds remarkably like you want to show me your etchings.’
Lewis holds up his hands. ‘There’s nothing dodgy in it, I promise. I have a girlfriend.’
