“Yeah, Monty was pissed then too. I think he sees you as a challenge. Maybe let him chase a bit more. But seriously, Monty’ll be good for you. Have some fun before you start being a serious student again.” She was already half-way through the mimosa. “What shall we do tonight? I fancy going to a club. Getting pretty and making a night of it.”
“Just me and you?”
“Maybe ask Monty and whoever’s staying with him. Carl too. When he’s finished work.”
I wasn’t sure if I was sold, but it was better than staying at Safir with Clara Reynolds working her magic to try and get me to be interested in her son.
“Let’s do it.”
Lala nodded, finished her drink and went back to her book.
Buddhababa on a Friday was decadent.It was open air for most of it, mango wood tables and draped material, plush velvet sofas intermingled with tropical plants and waterfalls. The deejay played a chilled mix until later on, once everyone was drunk or high enough to let loose, and then it became a hedonist’s paradise.
Lala liked it for the freedom. I liked it because I could blend here. Not that what I was wearing would let me blend.
We’d gotten ready together, smuggling champagne into Safir and breaking Livi’s alcohol ban. I’d done Lala’s hair, and she’d done my make-up, then for some reason – maybe because of the champagne – I’d let her choose my outfit.
It was a short, tight-fitted dress, in a dark blue silk that Lala had acquired from a modelling shoot. No one at the club would actually care what I was wearing; there would be some people partying in bikinis, or even less by the end of the night. The neck of the dress dipped almost to my navel, still showing less skin than if I’d been wearing a swimsuit, but it was definitely more Lala than me.
We got there early, an area reserved for our party, which had grown as the day had worn on. Monty, a couple more of his friends who had just arrived on the island, Dino Jules, who was a friend of ours who had just come back to Ibiza for the summer himself, and his sisters, plus their friends, and then there were some of the group we’d grown up with. Word had gotten round that we were both holidaying here, and for some reason, others had thought it was a good idea.
Champagne and cocktails flowed. A few pills were discreetly shared. A couple of people disappeared to the private bathroom either to fuck or get high, no one knew or cared. I kept to my usual pattern: a glass of champagne or a Pornstar martini, then water.
I didn’t speak to Monty, other than the kiss he pressed to my cheek when he first arrived. He was surrounded, as usual, girls and men wanting his time and his attention. I grew up surrounded with people who were magnets and I learned not to be jealous. I also didn’t flock.
I watched. Listened. Smiled.
“Do you want another drink?” Monty had finally untangled himself from Dino’s sisters. His hand ran up and down my arm. “I’ve been wanting to speak to you all night.”
He glowed with his usual enthusiasm and charm. I took in his face, the perfect angles, the eyes that projected laughter, the lips that were soft and probably kissed like a teenage girl’s wet dream. He was what Livi would’ve adored if she’d seen him on my arm, even though she’d pretended to adore every boyfriend I’d ever introduced to her.
He was what should make my summer something to remember.
“I’m good.” I was. I’d had my fill for now. One day I’d be a party girl, like Lara. But for now, I was me. The one who everyone thought could hold her drink because no one was sober enough to realise I drank more water than anything else.
“You sure. Do you want anything else?” His meaning was clear.
“Thanks, but no.” Not my scene. I didn’t know if it was Monty’s. Possibly. Probably. He’d grown up with money, which made things other than alcohol accessible. And he’d grown up with peers who made it acceptable, just like I had.
“Can we go somewhere and talk?” He’d caught my fingers in between his. “I feel like every time we’re together we’re surrounded by other people who want your attention.”
He was wrong; it was his they wanted. Although I hadn’t been sat like a lemon all evening; there’d been plenty of people to talk too, to dance with and laugh at. So maybe he was right; we hadn’t had chance to talk.
Did I want to?
He was everything I should be interested in and attracted to. Only I felt like I was going through the motions.
“Sure. It’s quieter over near the garden.” The club had an outdoor area, hammocks and swinging seats laid out. The music played by the deejays was pumped through stereos, but in certain parts of the garden it was quieter, so you could hear yourself think, or speak.
Monty took my hand and led me over to a swinging seat, shaped like an egg. This area was still part of the VIP section, and a waiter had already taken note of us, and that our hands were empty of drinks.
The seat made it so we had to press closer together, my body pushed towards his. He smelled of expensive cologne and the sea, and I wondered how he’d spent his day.
“Lara said you’re staying on Ibiza for the summer.”
He slipped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me even closer. The alcohol had given me a slight buzz, enough to feel relaxed enough to rest my head against his arm.
“Lara’s right. All my shoots are around Europe. I’ve got one in Milan next week, and another in Barcelona, but I promised myself a holiday, so I’ve rented a villa with Andrey. Thought I’d hang out with you some more.” He brushed my hair from my neck, his touch tender and careful.
