Robert gets a little tense. “Oh, yeah, and what grapevine would that be?”
“It was Eleanor Wallace, if you must know the details.”
“Kara’s mother needs to learn how to keep her mouth shut,” says Robert under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Yes, I moved out. Kara and I have ended things.”
Alan starts laughing and shaking his head. “She did you, mate. She’s a crafty one, that Kara. I would have had her out on her ear before she could get her claws into the place. Instead you run off with your tail between your legs and let her keep it.”
Robert gives his dad an irritated look. “It was a rental. It’s not like I gave her an apartment that was bought and paid for, Dad. Besides, I was getting tired of living there anyway.”
“Of course you were,” says Alan, looking pleased. “Women will try to take you for everything, son. You’ve got to start being wise to that now, or else you’ll find yourself in ten years’ time divorced and giving half of everything you own to some old bitch you got pregnant and who wormed her way into convincing you to marry her.”
“Jesus, who exactly are we talking about now?” Robert asks. “Because it sounds like you’re going on one of your bitter rants about Mum again.”
“He always rants about Mum when he’s drunk,” Sasha explains to me in a quiet whisper.
My mouth forms a round “oh” of acknowledgment. I’ve only ever witnessed Alan speak fondly of Liz in the past.
“Speaking of that old sow,” Alan slurs. “Do you know I invited her over for my party and she said no? She thinks she’s bloody better than me, living over there in her quaint little cottage. Ha! Don’t make me laugh.”
“Alan, honey, let’s talk about something else, yeah?” says Melanie, placing her arm around his shoulders. He becomes distracted by her cleavage, and Sasha rolls her eyes in disgust. I turn to Robert to see he’s staring out the window. He glances down at me then and rubs his thumb along my wrist. I close my eyes for a moment before pulling my hand away. He gives me a confused look but doesn’t try to touch me again.
When we reach The Dorchester, I find that there’s actually a few paparazzis outside, so there must be some celebs attending. A couple of cameras flash as we emerge, but they mostly seem interested in photographing Alan and Melanie.
Sasha links her arm through mine as we get out of the limo, and a moment later Robert takes my other arm.
“Do you get the irony?” Robert asks Sasha as a camera flashes in our direction. “You’re a pap who’s being papped.”
She shakes her head at him, laughing. “Yep, it’s a strange old world, bro.”
We make our way inside the ballroom, where Alan’s entrance is immediately greeted with loud cheers and whoops and people shouting, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
The place is decked out to the nines. There are chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and mirrors on the walls to give the illusion of even more space. In the centre of the room is a dance floor, with chairs and tables on the outskirts. A stage has been set up at the head of the room, and I have to do a double-take when I see the band.
“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that Duran Duran?” I ask Sasha in amazement.
She laughs. “He gets them to play every year. They’re his favourite; the ’80s were his heyday.”
I snicker. “Okay, now I’m just imagining your dad with blond highlights and a mullet.”
“I think I saw a picture of him in a white blazer once,” Robert puts in humorously. “Oh, and Spandau Ballet will be on later.”
I gape at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yep. You’ll never want to hear another keyboard again before the night is out,” he jokes.
“I dunno. I kind of fancy Martin Kemp,” I confess sheepishly.
“I like that song “Gold.” It makes me feel indestructible,” Sasha adds.
It takes me and Robert a second to get that one. When we do, we shake our heads at her simultaneously with suppressed grins.
“Please tell me you’re joking about fancying Martin Kemp,” says Robert, turning his attention back to me.
“Nope. He’s very well preserved for his age. Oh, and speaking of Kemps, I think I just spotted Ross.”
Sasha groans. “That’s not Ross Kemp, that’s fucking Jimmy.”
“The one who wants to date you?” I ask.
“Unfortunately, yes. Come on, let’s go sit down before he spots me.”
We join Alan and Melanie at a big round table full of fancily dressed people I’ve never met before. A waiter comes and hands us glasses of champagne. I’m aware that two glasses is my limit, so I savour it slowly and pick at some of the healthier-looking finger foods. Simon Le Bon is currently introducing “Hungry like the Wolf,” and the crowd are cheering like crazy.
“Okay,” I say, biting into a delicious cracker with cream cheese and smoked salmon. “I’m convinced I’m looking at one of the Loose Women.”
“Oh, which one?” Sasha asks. “I love that Carole McGiffin. She cracks me up.”
“I’m not sure. I think it’s the one with the boyfriend half her age.”
“That’s not really narrowing it down.” Robert laughs.
“Okay, then it’s the one who’s a bit mental.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down, either,” he goes on.
“Oh, I give up,” I say, laughing now.
Suddenly Alistair is standing at our table with an older couple who I presume are his parents. They both go to wish Alan a happy birthday, leaving Alistair with us. He kneels down by Sasha.
“Right, another hour or so here, and then we can start making our way back to mine. I left Jacob and Sandra there to organise things,” he says to Sasha.
She nods while taking a bite out of a tiny sandwich. “Sounds good to me. Dad is already drunk. Another hour, and he won’t notice whether or not we’re alive, never mind still here.”
“Do we have to leave so soon?” I cut in, unable to imagine Alistair’s as being more fun than this. “I really want to see Spandau Ballet perform.”
Alistair bursts into laughter. “I take it this is your first time at one of Alan’s parties?” he says. “Because if it wasn’t, you wouldn’t want to hear another ’80s tune ever again.”
“I already warned her about the keyboards,” Robert puts in.
“Fine, fine,” I accede. “I guess seeing Duran Duran will have to be enough excitement.”
Alistair grins at me and pulls Sasha up for a dance. “Girls on Film” has just started, and now Alan’s climbing out of his seat and proclaiming this to be “his song.”
Robert lets his face fall to his hands.
“You’ve gone scarlet,” I say, nudging his shoulder in amusement.
“Dad’s terrible when he drinks.” He pauses just as Alan begins chanting the lyrics. There are men and women all around him chanting them, too. “As you can see.”
“It’s his birthday. We’re all allowed to be embarrassing on our birthdays.”
“I suppose.” He turns his chair to face me, leaning one elbow on the table. Next, he runs his fingers along the edge of my dress where it dips down into my cleavage. I’m showing some skin but not nearly as much as some of the women I’ve seen here so far. His eyes have grown dark with desire, and his mouth hangs open slightly.
“Guess what I’m wondering?” he says in a low voice.
“How long before your dad gives himself a heart attack with those dance moves,” I reply, gesturing to Alan working it over by the stage.
His lips twitch. “No. What I’m wondering is if that champagne has gotten you tipsy enough to let me lure you off to a private room.”
I raise an eyebrow and lift my glass to show him how little I’ve drunk. “I’ve barely taken five sips.”
“Yeah, but you’re a lightweight.”
“True. I’m still not tipsy enough, though.”
“Dance with me, then?” he asks, taking my hand into his.
“Okay,” I answer, allowing him to lead me out onto the floor.
The band have started playing “Ordinary World,” and Robert twirls me around before pulling me to him for a slow dance. He brings his mouth close to my ear and whispers, “You’ve got the softest breasts I’ve ever touched.”
I cough and give him a wide-eyed look. His hands travel down the curve of my spine before resting on my hips. He moves my body from side to side as people dance around us. I catch Sasha’s eye from where she and Alistair are joking around, doing ridiculous dance moves. She sees me dancing with Robert and mouths “WTF?” I shrug, and then she shrugs back. We both laugh at the same time and return our attention to our dance partners.
“Great, that’s all I need,” Robert mutters, staring at something over my shoulder.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Kara’s just walked in with Gary and her parents,” he answers. His nose brushes against my temple, and I like how it feels.
“Oh. Well, I doubt she’ll start any trouble with you. You did take down that picture of her, right?”
“Yeah, I took it down, but only because you asked me. I took down those shots of you on the beach, too,” he goes on.
“That’s good.” I nod soberly.
“Fortunately, you never requested I delete them completely, so I can still look at them on my computer,” he tells me brazenly.
“Is your dad good friends with her parents?” I say to change the subject.
“Yeah. Our dads went to college together. Thick as thieves. Do you mind if I turn you so I don’t have to look at her? She’s giving me the evils from halfway across the room.”
“Sure, work away.”
He deftly swings my body around, one hand moving slightly towards my bottom. I hadn’t thought this whole thing through, because now I have to see Kara. Thankfully she’s not giving me evil looks like she’d been giving Robert. That’s one thing I’ll give her props for; she doesn’t fall into the typical stereotype of the girlfriend who despises any women who get close to her ex after the breakup.
“I think she might still have feelings for you,” I whisper to Robert.
“Oh, yeah, why’s that?”
“Because people only act bitchy or angry when they care about something.”
“The only thing she cares about is her wounded pride. She expects me to try and get her back from Gary, when as far as I’m concerned he can have her and her snooty parents. Besides, I’m doing this thing with you now…” He trails off, his eyes intense, and flattens his hand out on my bottom. I just hope Sasha doesn’t see it.
“What is this thing you’re doing with me?” I ask curiously.
“Well, right now it involves getting you out of this dress and letting me put my mouth on you again,” he whispers in my ear, his breath causing tingles to run down my neck.
“And how is that coming along?” My voice quivers.
He pulls back to study me, slanting his eyes. “Hard to tell. I’d say I have a fifty-fifty chance of discovering whether or not you’re wearing the lingerie I bought you before the night is through.”
His words make my heart speed up. “Okay, I’ll save you the bother and tell you that yes, I’m wearing them,” I whisper.
A slow smile spreads across his pretty mouth. He pulls me close and lets out a satisfied sigh, holding me as tightly as he can. “I’m really fucking happy to hear that,” he breathes.
The song comes to a close, and somebody dims the lights as several members of the waiting staff begin wheeling out a huge four-tiered birthday cake. The recognisable notes of “Happy Birthday to You” are sung as Alan gives the room a modest smile and a bow and prepares to blow out the candle shaped into the number 50.
Robert tugs me away from the dance floor and farther into the dark room. His hand cups my cheek as he ducks down to plant a quick, intensified kiss on my lips. His tongue slips forcefully into my mouth, and his hands feel like they’re everywhere all at once. Then everyone’s shouting “hip hip hurray,” and the lights are coming back on. He walks away from me, going to clap his dad around the shoulders and tell him happy birthday.
I make my way back to the table and sit down, still stunned by the level of emotion and need in the way he kissed me. I want to have another glass of champagne to settle my nerves, but I should really wait until we get to Alistair’s. The chair beside mine scrapes back, and I turn to find Sasha plonking herself down into it.
She knocks back half a glass and then settles her gaze on me. She seems contemplative.
“So,” she begins casually, “what were you doing dancing with Rob?”
I purse my lips and pick up a little fancy-looking pastry just to have something to do. “He asked me to.”
“Mm-hmm. You two looked…very cosy. Like you were in a couple or something.” She arches her brow at me questioningly.
I sputter a laugh and shake my head at her. “That’s ridiculous, Sash.”
God, why the hell am I lying to her? I’m just so bloody embarrassed about liking Robert. Admitting it to Sasha would be on a par to admitting I listen to One Direction in secret or something.
She frowns now when she looks at me, and her eyes seem sad. “I know Rob has his charms, Lana. The problem is he knows it, and he knows how to use them.” She pauses and lets out an agonised sigh. “Fuck,” she mutters. “I love that boy, he’s my brother, but I’ve seen him reduce cold hard bitches to broken women. You’re not cold and you’re not hard, and if he ever tried to break you, I don’t think I could forgive him, because I love you just as much as I love him. I’m not blind. I’ve noticed you warming up to him this past week or so. What’s even scarier is that Robert looks at you like he wants to kiss your face off, like, all the time. Please tell me I’m imagining it.”
I pull off a piece of the pastry and stick it in my mouth. “Okay, you’re not imagining it,” I answer, hardly a whisper.
“Say again?” Sasha asks, sitting up straighter now.
“You’re not imagining it,” I tell her louder.
“Ah, shit.” She slumps back down in her seat.
“Look, nothing’s really happened. We’ve just had a few…moments.”
“Elaborate.”
“He kissed me.”
“How very chaste of him. Whatever happened to the two of you being mortal enemies?”
All I can do is shrug. She takes the rest of the pastry out of my hand and shoves it in her mouth.
“What did you do that for?”
“You were irritating me fiddling with it.”
“Okay.”
“So, go on. What else did he do?”
I blush. “Ugh, Sasha, don’t make me go into details.”
Her eyes get wider. “You haven’t had sex with him, have you?”
“No!” I exclaim. “You know I’m clueless when it comes to that. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s not rocket science.”
I snort. “It might as well be.”
She turns to me now and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, one hand leaning against the back of my chair. “I’m not trying to lecture you. I just wanted this to be a fun summer break for you, and although you might think being with Robert will be a fun little distraction, I can tell you for a fact that it won’t be. It’ll be a fun distraction followed by some big drama followed by heartbreak. Shit, I thought you were smarter than this, kid.”
I’m about to reply to her when Robert shows up at the table and takes the seat beside her.
His eyes move from me to his sister. “Why do you both look like someone just pissed in your cornflakes?”
“Maybe because you did,” says Sasha, peering at him with a narrowed gaze.
“I’ll have you know I’m not in the habit of pissing in cornflakes. Nasty business, that.”
“Lana told me what’s been going on,” she says, ignoring his joke.
His expression sobers, and he gets defensive. “And that’s a bad thing bec
ause…”
“Come on, Rob. Don’t play dumb. You’re not good enough for her.”
“Sasha,” I say softly, touching her arm.
“No, Lana, I’m right. I’m not saying you’re better than him, I’m just saying that he’s still sleeping around, and that’s certainly not good enough for you.”
“Fuck you. I haven’t been with anyone in weeks,” Robert spits, his jaw tight.
“Oh, so you’ve turned over a new leaf?”
“Maybe I have.”
“And maybe you haven’t.”
“And maybe there was never a leaf to turn over.”
“Now you’re not even making any sense.”
Robert stands up from the table. “Yes, I am. I slept around because I was trying to fill a hole, a hole that was there because I couldn’t have what I really wanted, and what I’ve always wanted was her.” He throws his hand in my direction. “But I could never have her because you were constantly standing by like her fucking bodyguard.” He hisses these last words and then storms away from the table.
Sasha and I are left sitting there, shocked and speechless.
Twelve
My body trembles as Robert’s last words replay in my head. He’s always wanted me. Like, always always?
“I think I better go talk to my brother,” says Sasha, breaking my thoughts and standing up. I watch her leave through the same door as Robert. A server sets a slice of birthday cake down in front of me, but my stomach is in too many knots right now for me to even take a bite.
“Hey, Lana, where did Sasha rush off to?” Alistair asks, sitting down by me.
“She and Robert are having a talk,” I answer.
“I see,” he says, his dark eyes studying me. “Well, are you going to eat that?” He gestures to the cake.
“Oh, no, go ahead.”
He slides the plate in front of him and digs in. I twiddle my thumbs and keep glancing back and forth at the door through which Robert and Sasha could very well be having a massive argument. I can’t hear any shouting, which is always a good sign. Then again, I probably wouldn’t be able to hear them over the band anyway.
God, I’m dying to know what they’re saying to each other.