***
The girls got ready in the penthouse suite. Matthew was staying somewhere else in the hotel, with a group of his university friends. Sophie didn’t know the room number. All she knew was that they planned to meet at the party which was downstairs in one of the reception rooms. Sophie dressed in a short red dress and Carol wore a sleek, flashy number.
Mickey arrived, dumping a backpack on the floor as she walked into the penthouse. Her jaw dropped to the floor as she looked around. “So we’re all staying here the night?” Mickey raced around the suite, suddenly hyper, like she’d consumed too much sugar. She jumped on one of the beds. “Nice spring?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Yeah. I guess,” Sophie said.
“So this has to be a date,” Carol insisted, “It is a date, isn’t it?”
Sophie shrugged. “I dunno. He just asked us all to the party. All of us.”
“You are in mass denial,” Mickey said. “Tell us what’s going on. We’re all in Brighton in the bloody penthouse suite.” She flopped onto a bed.
“There’s not much to tell. Nothing has happened.”
“You should have the master bedroom,” Carol said, her eyes wide, innocent and rounded.
“Nope, that wouldn’t be fair. Besides, I couldn’t take him back to my room. That would be a promise of….”
“Ah ha. So you’ve thought about it. You’ve thought about having sex with him.” Mickey prodded Sophie’s shoulder. “Why not? He’s gorgeous, nice, and rich.”
“It’s not about him being gorgeous, nice, and rich. You make me sound like a gold digger.”
“Lighten up Soph, have a little bit of fun,” Carol chided. “He’s a good bloke.”
“If it’s going to work with Matthew, you’d better start by taking a risk,” Mickey mused. “The situation isn’t ideal, with Matthew being your client. You can’t control everything and if you like him, you’ve wasted enough time pretending you don’t.”