Jesus.
If I found it hard to resist temptation after being left alone in this villa with him for less than one minute, how the hell was I going to last one week?
31
LAILA
‘It’s so lovely to finally meet you,’ Gabriel’s friend Cassie said as we stood in front of the stage that had been set up on the beach ready for the mystery celebrity performance.
‘Finally?’ I asked. ‘Have you been talking about me?’ I faced Gabriel.
‘A little.’ He placed his palm on the small of my back and I hated how much I loved it.
‘Gabriel told us that he is really enjoying spending time with you and now I can see why,’ Nico added. ‘You two are very good together.’
‘Oh, we’re not tog?—’
‘I need to wee,’ Cassie jumped in. ‘Will you come with me, Laila?’
‘Er, yeah, course,’ I stuttered.
‘So are you enjoying yourself?’ Cassie asked.
‘You mean at the hotel, with Gabriel or just in general?’ I said as we weaved through the crowd and towards the main hotel building.
‘In general,’ she clarified.
‘So you didn’t ask me to come to the loo with you so you could suss me out?’
Cassie flashed a mischievous grin, like that wasexactlywhy she’d asked me but didn’t care that I knew what she was up to.
‘Gabriel’s a big boy. He doesn’t need me to play the big sister role.’ She stepped into the ladies’ bathroom which of course was just as fancy as the rest of the hotel with white marble tiles and flooring and gold taps. ‘Anyway, Gabriel’s already told me and Nicoloadsabout you.’ Her grin widened.
‘Like what?’ I frowned as she stepped into a cubicle and shut the door.
I didn’t think that I wanted to go to the loo, but now I suddenly felt the urge, so I went into the cubicle next to hers.
‘I know that you’re a smart, strong, intelligent woman, you raised your son single-handedly and you do voluntary work on top of holding down a full-time job, right?’
‘That’s right…’ My voice trailed off. When she said she knew stuff about me, I expected her to talk about where I lived, my age and the fact I worked in car insurance. Instead, she made me sound like some kind of superwoman who worked by day and did charity work by night.
‘It’s not that big a deal,’ I clarified. It was nice that Gabriel said kind things about me, but I didn’t want Cassie to get the wrong idea. ‘I just help out once a week at a young mums’ support group. I don’t really do much. Just listen if they need someone to talk or share my experiences. I remember how lonely it felt raising my son alone, so I just try and do my best to make them feel supported and understood.’
‘Don’t sell yourself short!’ Cassie said softly. I heard her toilet flush, the door open and the sound of the tap outside as she washed her hands. ‘I bet they’re so grateful for your advice.’
‘I don’t know that I’m qualified enough to give themadvice. I spent most of Ricky’s childhood thinking I was doing everything wrong. And I think it’s important that I tell them that because most people don’t keep it real. They only talk about the good parts. So I know they’re grateful for my honesty.’
I joined Cassie at the sink and washed my hands before wiping them with one of the thick cotton flannels that were laid out. Yep. There were no cheap paper towels at this hotel. Wouldn’t surprise me if these flannels were pure Egyptian cotton.
‘I bet!’ Cassie and I stepped out of the toilet and headed back outside. ‘I used to do volunteer work at a retirement home. One of the residents there, Doris, who’s in her nineties, God bless her, is now one of our closest friends.’
‘I love that! I’m really fond of some of the mums at the group too. It’s hard not to get attached. I’ve even found myself offering to babysit so they can go for job interviews.’
If I wasn’t already convinced that I didn’t want any more kids before, then those few hours spent looking after two-year-old Elijah last month would’ve done the trick. It was worth it though when his mum, Dahlia, called a couple of weeks ago to say she got the job.
‘That’s amazing. I run a foundation that provides support, opportunities, scholarships and training to help disadvantaged people. I’d love to chat more about the stuff you do.’
‘Me?’ I frowned, then winced. Of course she meant me, I was just surprised that she’d be interested in my opinions. Imposter syndrome was real. ‘Course, yeah, I’d love that, thanks.’
