I booked the penthouse. I could hardly ask Ava to leave hers for anything less. The navy and silver décor is traditional, oozing opulence and luxury. A huge sleigh bed punctuates the bedroom, dressed in plush pillows and expensive sheets. I hope Ava likes it.
I shower and shave in the huge mosaic tiled bathroom. The last thing I want to do is mark Ava with my stubble. Actually, that’s not true. I’d love to leave a burning reminder of our night together. That is, if she hasn’t changed her mind. I haven't heard from her since the texts we exchanged on Monday night.
Maybe she’s been busy organising tonight’s party.
Or maybe she’s got cold feet.
Either way, I’m about to find out.
I dress in a black Tom Ford suit and white shirt, spray some cologne and head downstairs, too impatient to wait for the lift. A fifteen-foot white frosted artificial tree punctuates the hallway, and an open fire roars welcomingly as I pass.
The spacious bar is buzzing with chatter. No need to wonder if I’m in the right place. Huge red helium balloons in the shape of hearts sway from the ceiling, sporting the HeartSync logo I recognise from the sign-up form. Hard to believe that was just over a week ago.
Over a hundred people congregate in small clusters, picking canapés from the trays of passing waiters. In the corner of the room, a blonde woman in a black Bardot dress croons sultry jazz songs. My eyes home in on Ava. She’s clutching a glass of champagne in one hand, while her other hand rests on the muscled arm of the mountain-sized man next to her. He has his back to me so I can’t see his face. What’s very clear though, is the affection she holds for him. Her eyes sparkle up at him.
A rush of something unfamiliar whooshes through my chest and my molars grind together so hard they could crumble.
I strut across the room on instinct. Those hazel eyes flit away from Mr Muscle and her smile widens as I approach. The tension in my chest eases a fraction.
‘Speak of the devil, and he arrives.’ Ava shoves her companion aside and reaches out for me, throwing her arms around my neck in a dramatic PDA. Burying her nose in my neck she inhales deeply. ‘I’ve missed you.’
Her acting skills are so convincing, if I didn't know better, I’d be utterly convinced her feelings for me are real.
‘I missed you too.’ I grit out, finding her waist with my hands. Mr Muscle hovers beside us quietly, but I deliberately don’t look at him. Do I have to pee on her to make him go away? To make him realise she’s mine, for tonight at least.
‘Well, fuck me, you’re real.’ Mr Muscle lets out a deep belly laugh and slaps my back.
I turn to him with my steeliest stare. When our eyes lock, I inhale a sharp breath.
‘Cillian, this is my pain in the ass of a brother, Nate.’ Ava takes a small step back from me and slides her hands away from my neck. ‘Nate, this is my boyfriend, Cillian.’
Nate’s green eyes glint with amusement. He’s normally so serious looking on the big screen. Then again, it would look a bit weird if he was smirking while saving the world. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’
‘The feeling’s mutual.’ The words come out stilted. Formal. I’m just glad they came at all. The guy’s a Hollywood movie star. And as impressive as he is on the screen, in the flesh, he’s even more remarkable.
Though, he still has nothing on his little sister, who looks dangerously delectable in a killer lace dress, the same shade of dark fuck-me red as the heart-shaped balloons.
A petite brunette dressed in a gold dress approaches. She’s clutching a tiny baby to her chest. ‘Hi, I’m Holly.’ She shifts the baby onto her hip and offers her hand. ‘We’ve been dying to meet you. Frank and Penny have been raving about you!’
‘Actually, Holly. I think I know you.’
Holly blushes and Nate tenses, all trace of amusement evaporating from his eyes.
‘My daughter goes to St. Jude’s. You might remember her? Phoebe Callaghan. She was in your junior infant class last year.’
Holly clicks her fingers, and the tension evaporates. ‘That’s right. How is she?’
‘She’s great. Thank you.’ I slip an arm around Ava’s waist. It’s not strictly necessary. We’ve already convinced them we’re a couple. But the need to touch her is overwhelming. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to chase after her the other night.
Another woman approaches, introducing herself as Natalie, Ava’s sister. She has the same dark hair as her sister, but shocking chartreuse eyes like her brother.
Natalie nudges Ava playfully. ‘Did you check Cillian’s ankle for tags?’ From her teasing tone, she’s joking, but Ava flinches.
Nate turns to me. ‘We all thought it was hilarious when Ava started a dating agency. Especially given her own long list of dating disasters. How can she charge people extortionate amounts of money to set them up, when she couldn't even set herself up!’
Ava sucks in her lower lip. Her body tenses beside me, like she’s waiting for the next onslaught. No wonder she’s insecure when her own siblings aren't exactly supportive of her. Lillian and William might have preferred me to go into the family business, but they’ve always been supportive of my career choices, even when they haven't approved.
The itch to defend Ava scratches my throat. ‘She had a run of bad luck.’ I squeeze her tighter to me. ‘Worse than you’ll ever know. It takes guts to open a business. And blood, sweat, and tears to run it. Cut her some slack.’
