I owned a chain of spas across London and now beyond, mainly high end, catering in exclusive treatments and experiences. I hadn’t gone to university; I’d barely managed to get through school, more interested in boyfriends and the man who promised to help me make it in the world of modelling but instead turned out to be a predator who ended up with a seriously damaged testicle in the end. I’d trained in beauty and found I liked the science side. Then I discovered that my experiences with idiotic self-centred men had given me some insight into how they worked, which in turn meant I knew exactly how to negotiate the rent on the building for my first beauticians and how to charm my way through a meeting with a room full of potential investors, ensuring I got exactly what I needed to launch production of my first skin care range.
Iceland was possibly my next venture – if I could get to grips with flying. Here was the ideal place for a luxury spa, limited bedrooms, high-end clients and privacy. As much as this trip was about Victoria’s approaching end of freedom, I had a little business to check out.
We were headed to what was the middle of nowhere to Hotel Ljos, a carefully selected spa in central Iceland and just under two hour’s drive from the airport, in a limo because that was how Jacob and Vanessa rolled.
I accepted the glass of champagne and joined in with the toast, Victoria’s wrath beginning to melt with each sip. There were jokes made at Maxwell’s expense, and Jackson’s, followed by Jacob making a comment about the size of Seph’s package.
I tuned out, watching the scenery as we left the city quickly and started the drive across a landscape that was volcanic and almost alien. The scenery was enough for me to be drawn into it, rather than the conversation, and I started to allow myself to properly exhale.
I hated flying.
It wasn’t something I’d ever become accustomed to, no matter what therapy I tried. Callum Callaghan’s fiancée, Wren, had a similar phobia and a job that meant she’d had to get over it – that or give up work and go into something else instead. I admired her.
The limo pulled over, three matching four-by-four vehicles with the hotel logo on the side. Where we were going was remote; tucked away next to natural springs and a lagoon in which you could float. The idea of it was almost enough to make me forget that getting here took a metal beast and a wing and a prayer, because this was the ideal: nature pampering the human spirit.
The air outside the limo was cold and dry, the sky above us clear. All of us on Vic’s hen party had met the week before for cocktails and food to discuss the trip and plan what we were going to do as the hotel had a range of excursions and activities from massages to dog sledding. Seeing the Northern Lights had been the top of most lists, the one thing we were all hoping to experience. The clear sky above us made me hope we’d get more than one viewing.
I got into a jeep with Vanessa, Jacob – Victoria’s best friend - and Max’s cousin, Lainey, who had recently moved back over from America. She’d told me last week she felt awkward being invited, not really knowing the bride-to-be or any of her friends, and after a couple of glasses of champagne, she’d confessed she’d felt like it had been a pity invite.
It hadn’t been. I knew Vic and Vanessa well, and pity invites weren’t their style. I’d told Lainey as much. And I’d suggested she used the trip to get to know people, now that she was living over here. Making a new life.
Something I knew a little about.
“Are you still swearing off men?” Vanessa narrowed her eyes at me.
“Yes. Six months.”
Vanessa frowned. “It’s less than that. What about that rock star person you left Simone’s restaurant with?”
I looked to the roof of the vehicle and silently said another prayer. “I didn’t sleep with him.” Possibly not one of my finest moves.
Vanessa frowned and then smiled knowingly. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
The leather seats now had the shape of my nails permanently embedded into them. “I helped him out. It was a traumatic evening for him.”
Leif Rossi, actually Liam Rosehill, had been a broken soul I thought I might’ve been able to fix. I should’ve known by then that it wouldn’t happen. Fixing men was something I’d been attempting to do for too long, and I’d never been able to master the art. Finding one that wasn’t broken was a problem, because I wasn’t entirely sure they existed. If any of us existed.
“Hmm.” Vanessa shook her head slowly and then turned to face Lainey. “How’s your love life since moving over here?”
Lainey tried to pick at her recently manicured nails. I couldn’t help but reach over and stop her. The technician had done a damn fine job and Lainey had to spend at least five days with them intact.
“Leave them. Twist your hair instead.” I guided her hand up.
She laughed. “Nerves.”
“Please don’t tell me you have some childhood trauma like Sophie here and are waiting on intense therapy.” Van’s eyes didn’t even stray over to me.
“No, not quite.” Lainey’s voice was stretched. “Big family. Shy girl. That’s why I prefer horses. They don’t communicate with words.”
“Sometimes Jackson doesn’t communicate with words either. It can be a grunt or a shrug.” Vanessa rolled her eyes so far back I wondered if she’d be able to see straight again. “And no one in Victoria’s hen party, at least, will corner you in to talking, so you needn’t worry about being ambushed. Although I’d watch out for him next to you.”
Jacob turned and smiled. “Nothing to be afraid of. I never interfere in people’s love lives.”
I laughed. Loudly. Jacob was beautiful; pristinely groomed and immaculately turned out. Since meeting him, he’d been my plus one to several dinners and shows, functions where it suited to have a man by my side, even though I didn’t need one.
He was a deterrent: stopping unwarranted passes by men who were married or should know better, because even in this era ofme too,it happened. I was a businesswoman, I’d made millions in my own right, and yet to a certain type of gentleman I was meant to be available.
Where’s your husband? Is he not here to advise you?
