‘I haven’t been there yet,’ Marco says with genuine delight. Their voices fade into everyday chatter as they move out of the room. Chatter that I’m fully aware would never include me. Not in a million years. I’m not part of this world. Standing hidden behind the closed doors, I realise exactly what it is that I am – the dirty secret.
MARCO
I’m not entirely sure how we get from the public rooms to the small room upstairs. One minute we’re downstairs drinking in this woman’s voice. I mean, the singer in the Connaught Room has a beautiful voice, but, the next minute, I’m taking Clara onto the balcony over the secret garden. I know it’s amazing. I know it has this kind of special charm about it. I’ve been going there since I was a kid, mainly to avoid my parents. But tonight, I just want to be a bit closer to Clara, and the balcony is small!
‘Isn’t it incredible?’ I say with a proprietorial air, like I own the place.
She has both hands clamped over her mouth, and her eyes are wide with awe. I have to admit, it’s prettier and more enchanting than I remember. The courtyard below is lit up by golden lights hidden in the wall, which cast glittering ripples across the water. It’s like some piece of magic. There’s the sound of the water, the trailing plants – jasmine and bougainvillea. The place is a knockout.
Then she leans forward over the balcony; stupidly, I do the same and my hand brushes hers. The feeling that shoots through my body is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I pull away, but then she’s pulling me back towards her. She has to feel it too – this attraction, this force between us. Soon she’s yanking me down by my tie and gripping my hair as I hoist her up onto my body. I no longer care about our boss–employee relationship. I’m not interested in business. Hell, I don’t even care about the missing songbird. All I want is Clara, with her silk-covered waist, her beautiful curves, and her hot mouth against mine. My hands roll across her body, loving every inch of it. I’m kissing her lips, her chin, her neck, as if I’m a drowning man and this is my only possibility for life, for air.
Once we’re both satisfied and spent, I keep my arms locked around her, not wanting to give her up. Never wanting to let go of her, not for as long as I live.
‘You okay?’ I ask, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear and nuzzling my chin against the top of her head. Nuzzling it hard, wanting to do it all, every moment, all over again. Suddenly, my heart stops. The breath in my lungs catch in my throat. Voices. There are voices outside. Someone is coming towards the balcony. The secret balcony. Someone is going to be breaking in any moment and finding us. I can’t do that, not to Clara. I need to protect her.
Telling her to wait, I pat myself down and bluster out through the door, pushing it closed behind me. I have to keep Clara away from prying eyes.
‘Hey, Stella, Ezra…’ I call out brightly. ‘Bit of a bummer. It’s all closed off. Health and safety. Loose banister.’ I steer them back towards the main door, leaving Clara safely behind us.
CHAPTER 14
CLARA
We are sitting in the dim interior light of the car, parked just outside the dark, cavernous cave of the hotel’s underground garage.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Minty asks, looking in bewilderment at my phone with its cracked screen, no doubt wondering if he can fix it himself.
Cheeks streaked with tears, dress up around my knees in a scrunched mess, I’m no longer the fairy princess that I’d thought myself to be only hours earlier. I am dishevelled, abandoned, and feeling used and naïve. I just let some rich, entitled, over-privileged womaniser have his way with me in a public place. My cheeks burn with shame. It’s not just my phone that’s damaged goods. I had rung Minty from the balcony, the mobile had at least held together for that. I’d asked my brother if he could bring a car around to the back. He did.
‘What happened?’ he says, still scrutinising the pathetic phone with its dim, pleading lights emanating out through the damage.
‘I stood on it,’ I say glumly.
He shoots me a worried look. ‘Nah, C. I didn’t mean the phone. I mean the tears?’
‘It was a disaster.’
He nods as if this is oh-so predictable. ‘Music types. So, job’s gone belly up, it’s no strawberries in the fridge?’
Despite myself, I manage a small, sad smile, as I attempt to fight back the tears. ‘Sorry.’
He clears his throat, an irritated look flashing over his features. ‘But this guy, sis, he didn’t hurt you, did he?’ Minty peers at me in the mirror.
‘No, nothing. Not really.’ I grab a handful of hair and push it back up into the clip that once held it. I need to get a grip. ‘I’ve just been a little bit foolish.’ I sigh. ‘That’s it.’ It wasn’t entirely the truth, but my foolishness certainly has a good deal to do with the mess I’ve found myself in.
Minty shrugs. ‘My middle name’s “Foolish”.’
‘Well, that makes two of us. You’d have thought Mum and Dad would have been more inventive.’
He laughs. ‘Yeah, all that arty-farty stuff and still couldn’t sort us out a state-of-the-art middle name a piece.’
‘Some parents,’ I say with a smile.
‘You said it. Hey, you want to stop for a full fry-up?’
I could do with getting the dress back to Nelly. I shan’t be needing it again. But I can’t face Marco’s friends without backup. I love Nelly, but I know his loyalties will always be with his best mate, and I don’t even want to talk about Marco. It all feels too raw. I need somewhere neutral.
‘Brekky?’ I say, muscling a little optimism into my voice. ‘Oh, go on then.’ I manage to text Nelly, avoiding the crack in my phone screen. I tell him we’ll be at Jack’s. It’s by the meat market. They’re open all night. He can bring my clothes and I’ll give him back the frock. I don’t want to have anything more to do with Marco and his entitled lifestyle.
