“If it becomes anymore, I’ll let you know.” Which I would, because when she wasn’t wafting make-up brushes around like they were weapons of mass destruction, she was damn good with the advice.
It wasn’t going to be more. I had no idea what he did, although I was pretty sure it had something to do with sports at some level, just because of the way he was cut, and he hadn’t clicked with who I was, unless he was a seriously good actor himself, which I doubted.
“You do that. Did you hear about Maisie Mowena?”
“No. Do tell.” Maisie Mowena had gotten a part that I’d been desperate for, and she’d rubbed it in viciously in an interview she’d done recently. Any gossip about her was very welcome.
“Well, this is what I heard…”
I exhaled and let myself get lost in a little bit of gossip, hearing about my arch nemesis getting something of a comeuppance.
The charity event was fun. Sometimes they could be pretentious, filled with people who just wanted to be seen, which we all did to an extent, but some were all about that. This was more about us having fun, trying out the products and donating to charity, which was one that worked with the homeless in London. Simone Wood and her husband, Jack, had connections with it, as did her friend, Sophie, who was the owner of Beauty by Belle. Sophie’s husband was Leif Rossi, former rock god, and the place had been filled with rock royalty, leaving me star struck and speechless on a couple of occasions.
I bought an outfit that I might never wear, but the proceeds went to the charity and I forgot all about fitting into next week’s costumes and ate everything that was off-plan according to my trainer. I had every intention of burning it off later tonight.
My phone had been silent, silent of any messages from Ryan, and part of me was fearing that he wouldn’t be at the address he’d given me. Maybe it would be revenge for pretending that I wasn’t me – well, I had been pretending I wasn’t me, but really wasn’t me – yesterday.
I checked again as I left the party, the event starting to quieten down anyway as it was never planned to be a late one. No message from Ryan.
Angsty Otter started to rear her head, so while I sat in the back of a taxi, I messaged him, just to calm the needy me down.
Me: On my way! Will you answer the door naked too?
Might as well stick to being bright and breezy. The whole answering the door naked to him had not been planned; I had been getting changed and I had figured it would be him, because no one else knew where I was staying.
The journey was halfway over before he replied, which was fine, because it wasn’t like I was anxiously waiting or anything.
Ryan: You’ll be Otterly surprised with what I’m wearing…
I laughed, probably making the taxi driver think I was slightly insane. It was a terrible joke, and one I’d heard so many times over the years, but given Ryan hadn’t known my name until less than twenty-four hours ago, it made me feel – happy.
Me: Give me a hint.
Ryan: It’s what every woman dreams of.
Me: Tell me. I hate surprises.
Nothing came through, which I’d expected. Out of the two of us, he seemed the most stubborn.
London traffic was kind, and I arrived outside the address given me quicker than I expected. It was a Georgian Regency townhouse, a building from an era I now knew plenty about, and it told me straight away that Ryan had a job that meant he could afford more than the ripped jeans and hoodie he was wearing in Houston.
My brain was bursting with a thousand questions, and before I knocked on the door, I debated turning around and running away.
This wasn’t meant to be a Q and A session. We weren’t on a date. We weren’t playing getting to know you.
I wasn’t staying over.
I wasn’t going to walk round this amazing house and wonder who lived in a place like this, because it didn’t matter.
But I did knock on the door, and I did almost drool when Ryan opened the door wearing a pair of grey sweatpants that were far too thin and no top.
I heard my gulp when I looked up into those chocolate velvet eyes. I suspected he did too.
“You came.” He looked surprised, but happy.
“I’m hoping I come again later.” Why I wasn’t born with a filter, I didn’t understand.
“Many, many times. You look gorgeous.”
