Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Maybe she should send the message again in case it had got lost in the ether somewhere. Just as she was about to try again, her phone beeped. She snatched it up and scanned the message.
An hour, it said. Maybe more. J xx
An hour. It was a ridiculous amount of time. Too short to take a swim in the health spa or to walk into the city. Too long to sit here twiddling her thumbs. She would normally have phoned Annie but – miracle upon miracle – her sister’s stuck-in-the-mud husband had decided to take her away again on a whim. The second time this century.
Far be it for her to interrupt her sister’s romantic interlude to moan about her own. Besides, what if she was busy chatting on the phone and Jude was trying to get through?
There was nothing for it. She opened the champagne, kicked off her shoes and put her feet up. Surfing through the channels on the television again, she settled on a programme called Animal Park which seemed marginally less dull than Live Snooker.
A rare deer had just got its antlers stuck in the perimeter fence of its compound and Lauren was beginning to feel very anxious about how its keepers would release the poor thing, when her phone beeped again. Her heart leaped at the sound. That surely would be Jude letting her know that he was about to arrive? Lauren switched off the television and laughed to herself. It would be just like him to be standing outside the door.
She threw open the door to the suite. Just in case. But he wasn’t there. Then she saw that the text message read: Can’t make it. Forgive me. J xx
Chapter 41
Lauren drank too much – she knew she did. But it stopped the pain. Well, mostly. She was curled up on the bed, mascara tracks down her face. One bottle of champagne had been drained and she was about to call the butler to ask him to bring her another.
There was no way she could drive home now, she was too far gone. Besides, Jude had paid for this extravagance for the weekend, so why shouldn’t she enjoy it? If only she could stop crying, then she was sure that she would.
His family won all the time. Whenever it was her versus them, they won. She was the one who was always left alone. She was the one who suffered. They didn’t even know that she existed.
Her fingers played over the keys of her phone. She wanted to call him. She wanted to rant and rave and cry and beg for him not to leave her here alone. This should have been their weekend together. This should have been him making up for a thousand small hurts. Where was he? Why did he care so little for her feelings?
She shouldn’t call Jude – she knew she shouldn’t. But it was tempting, so tempting. Instead, she called Annie. She was desperate. Annie would understand. Her dear, dear sister always did. But Annie’s phone went straight to voicemail and, dismayed, Lauren hung up. She cried on her pillow some more.
Chelsea would never understand her pain. Her elder sister disapproved of her relationship with a married man. She never came out and said as much, but Lauren could always sense it. Perhaps it was because her sister secretly worried that one day her little life might be turned upside down by another woman. In her perfect world, perhaps Chelsea preferred to pretend that these things didn’t exist. Anyway, she’d be out and about on a Saturday doing important things to make the wheels of her family’s life turn smoothly.
Then, before she realised what she was doing, she’d pressed Zak’s number. A second later, he answered.
She sniffed her tears away. ‘Hi.’
‘Ooo,’ he said. ‘Someone doesn’t sound too good.’
‘No.’ More sniffing.
‘Are you hurt?’ His voice was concerned now.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m in the world’s swankiest hotel in Bath all alone. And I shouldn’t be.’
‘Ah,’ Zak said. ‘A no-show from Jude?’
Lauren nodded even though she was on the phone.
‘Oh, Lauren,’ her friend sighed. ‘What are we going to do with you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Where is the main man?’
‘I don’t know that either,’ she admitted. ‘Not with me. With his family.’
‘Come on,’ Zak said. ‘You have to be strong. Dry those eyes.’
She pulled a tissue out of the box next to her and blew her nose into it.
‘Don’t sit there by yourself,’ her friend advised. ‘Take yourself out, see the city. Pick up a hot guy, take him back to your hotel and shag him senseless at Jude’s expense.’
Despite her tears, she laughed at that. ‘If only it were so easy.’
‘Actually, that’s a really bad idea. You should scratch that last suggestion.’
‘I have a bit of a downer on hot guys at the moment,’ she reassured him.
‘You sound as if you’ve been hitting the bottle.’
‘Just a little champagne,’ Lauren said. But she might have slurred. ‘I’ll stay here. Entertain myself.’
‘Now that sounds too kinky.’
Lauren laughed again. ‘Now I know why I phoned you.’
‘I’m glad you did,’ Zak said.
‘I’ll be okay.’ Lauren put on her bravest voice. ‘I’m cool.’
‘You are a very cool lady, Ms Osbourne. Don’t ever forget that.’
‘Thanks, Zak,’ she said. ‘You’re a good friend.’
‘Don’t ever forget that either,’ said Zak, and then he hung up.
Now, for some reason, she felt even more lonely than ever. Lauren curled up into herself and cried and cried and cried until the tasteful cream linen was black with her tears.
Chapter 42
In the end, Lauren had sent for another bottle of champagne. She couldn’t face going out sightseeing or finding a hot man to shag as Zak had suggested. The butler might have been an outside possibility, if he hadn’t been a slender boy of about twenty-six. But, as she’d said to Zak, finding a replacement man was the last thing on her mind.
She’d poured herself another glass or two, had languished in a long, hot bath, sobbing intermittently about the unfairness of falling in love with someone who belonged to someone else, and had let herself get all wrinkly. Then she’d tortured herself by putting on her sexy black underwear and the high heels especially brought for the purposes of seduction.
Lauren stood in front of the mirror and posed provocatively. Who wouldn’t want to have sex with that? Did Jude realise what he was missing doing whatever he was, wherever he was with his wife? Georgia probably wore big, comfy pants and tights. She stared at her reflection. Look at her. She was hot. Hot and alone. As the tears flowed again, she wrapped herself in the fluffy bathrobe provided, laid on the bed and wished for sleep – even though it was only four o’clock.
Lauren hadn’t yet returned Jude’s text. What could she say? That it was okay? That she didn’t mind? She wasn’t inclined to send a forgiving note. Instead, she hugged the phone to her chest and sobbed a bit more.
The next thing she knew, there was a soft rap at her door and Lauren woke with a start, not even realising that she’d dozed off. It would probably be the butler wanting to see if she needed her drink replenished. She’d long since given up hoping that Jude would still turn up unexpectedly.
Pulling her dressing-gown around her, Lauren went to the door. When she opened it, she smiled.
‘I came to entertain you,’ Zak said. He was holding out the board game Scrabble.
‘Where on earth did you get that?’
‘I’m a wicked master of the manipulated word,’ her friend said. ‘This has been gathering dust in my cupboard for too long.’ He tapped the game’s box. ‘You’re going to have to think of some tricky words to get them past me.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I was worried,’ Zak said, leaning on the doorframe and fixing his puppy-dog eyes on her. ‘I couldn’t stand the thought of you being here alone.’
‘You drove all the way down?’
He nodded. ‘As soon as you hung up.’ Then, lowering his voice, he said, ‘Jude didn’t turn up, did he
? I’m not interrupting anything?’
Lauren held open the door to the suite. ‘Nobody home but me.’
Zak came into the room and glanced around appraisingly. ‘Very flash.’
‘And too big for one.’
‘We could go out for dinner. The night is young. So are we. Allegedly.’
‘I can’t face putting the war paint on.’ Or leaving this room ever again, Lauren thought.
‘I assumed you wouldn’t want to go out,’ her friend said. ‘I have extensive experience of love-lorn women. Therefore, as well as a fiendishly distracting board game, I have brought along a selection of rubbish girly DVDs for your delectation too.’ He opened the man bag that was slung over his shoulder and from the inside pocket pulled the promised bunch of DVDs. Slapping them down on top of the nearest coffee-table, he reeled off the titles. ‘27 Dresses, Sweet Home Alabama, Enchanted, Sleepless in Seattle – bet you can’t get through that one without crying – Bridget Jones’s Diary, Pride and Prejudice, and, last, but certainly by no means least, the inimitable Mamma Mia!’
‘They’re all pretty rubbishy,’ Lauren concluded. ‘Perfect viewing.’
Zak scooped up the DVDs and tossed them on to the bed. ‘You can’t beat a bit of Colin Firth or Tom Hanks for a broken heart.’
‘You have a point there. Sleepless in Seattle is, indeed, my favourite film. And I will need the Kleenex to hand.’
‘Wonderful.’ Zak pointed at the champagne. ‘You can pour me a glass of that and we can begin our evening’s entertainment in earnest.’
Lauren touched his arm. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I warn you though, I might be rotten company.’
‘You always are,’ he told her brightly, as he stripped off his jacket. ‘That’s why I like you. The more miserable you are, the more fun I seem.’
And Lauren couldn’t help but laugh at that.
Chapter 43
Grabbing another glass, Lauren curled up on the bed and poured out more champagne. She kicked off the fuck-me shoes, pulled the dressing-gown around her and tucked her legs under her. Zak tugged off his Converse trainers and tossed them to the floor. He sat sprawled out in front of her.
‘You look very drunk,’ Zak noted.
‘I am,’ she admitted.
‘I bet you haven’t eaten either.’
‘Not a thing.’
‘Then may I select something for you from the room service menu, madam?’
‘I don’t—’
Zak held up a hand. ‘I’m going to stuff my face at your boyfriend’s expense and I suggest you do the same thing.’
‘I have a butler,’ Lauren giggled.
‘Then let’s force him to bring us burgers and fries.’ She rang the bell and, sure enough, the butler appeared to take their order.
When he’d gone, Zak spread out the films on the bed. ‘Close your eyes and pick one.’
She did.
‘Enchanted. Oh, yes. A fine choice. Particularly cheesy, Ms Osbourne.’
He slotted it into the DVD player and then set up the Scrabble on the bed, climbing on so that the board was between them. ‘Have you played this before?’
‘Not for years.’
‘It’s like riding a bike – the minute you get back on, you remember how to do it.’
‘I never had a bike.’
‘Now you’re being pedantic,’ he warned and Lauren giggled.
Zak rolled up his shirt-sleeves and flexed his fingers and did some neck circles. ‘Ready?’
Lauren nodded. She waggled her fingers at him. ‘Bring. It. On.’
They selected their letters. Seven each. ‘Ladies first,’ Zak said graciously and Lauren took the opening turn.
She slapped her letters down on the board, enthusiastically.
‘S.H.I.T.B.A.G.’ Zak raised an eyebrow. ‘An interesting opening gambit.’ He studied her word. ‘I don’t mean to be a stickler but the words are supposed to come from the Oxford English Dictionary. I don’t think you’ll find S.H.I.T.B.A.G. in there.’
‘S.H.I.T.B.A.G.’ Lauren pointed at the board. ‘Lots of points.’
‘I see,’ Zak said. ‘We’re going to play dirty Scrabble.’
He countered with S.E.X.Y.
‘Pathetic.’
‘Eight points for the X alone, I think you’ll find.’ He cracked his knuckles.
The butler brought cheeseburgers and chips and they ate them from the tray he put between them. Lauren couldn’t remember the last time she’d had chips or had enjoyed them so much. She dipped each one in ketchup. Lots of it. Between chips, she clinked her letters down on the board.
‘B.A.S.T.A.R?’ Zak queried. ‘That’s definitely not a word.’
‘You get my drift.’
‘I put it down to you being inordinately drunk and will let you have the points anyway.’
‘It’s not easy being one D short of a bastard,’ she said, and laughed uproariously. Enchanted played away in the background. It was at the point where the fairytale princess landed up in New York in the hands of a cynical lawyer. It was a beautiful, optimistic film in a harsh world. And, of course, Giselle finds her handsome prince in the most unlikely of men. Lauren sniffed away a tear.
‘Don’t cry,’ Zak instructed sternly. ‘It’s nowhere near the sad bit. Concentrate on the game.’
Lauren helped herself to a tissue and focused on the Scrabble board.
Her friend tried A.D.O.R.E.D.
‘Hmm,’ Lauren said. ‘Lame.’
‘Sixteen points. Double word score,’ he shrugged.
Lauren slapped down B.I.T.C.H.
‘You’re technically not allowed to put that there.’
Lauren shot him a look. ‘Why?’
‘Your pieces are butted up against another word, rendering it nonsensical.’
Lauren folded her arms and stared him down.
Zak held up his hands in surrender. ‘But I’m not arguing with you in your current state of mind.’
‘Good move.’
‘Want to tell me who we’re talking about?’
‘No one,’ she insisted, feigning innocence. ‘I wanted to make C.A.R.D.I.G.A.N. but I didn’t have enough letters.’ Then she picked up the champagne bottle again.
‘Are you sure you want more?’ he asked.
‘Just a little.’
When they’d finished the bottle and were all Scrabbled out, they leaned back on the pillows and watched the end of Enchanted and Lauren cried again when the fairytale princess ended up with the uptight, pinstriped city slicker who was really a softie, because in real life no one really ended up with who they should be with.
It was getting dark outside now and they watched Sleepless in Seattle because it had to be done. She had a little cry again because it was so sad and Tom Hanks had been the cutest person alive at that time and Zak dabbed tenderly at her cheeks with a tissue.
Lauren rested her head on his shoulder and her eyes started to roll with tiredness and she snuggled down on the bed next to him.
It felt nice having Zak here with her. More than nice. She let her hand wander to his chest. The heat of it made her mouth go dry. Her dressing-gown fell open and she made no move to cover herself.
‘I have to assume that’s not the sort of underwear that you put on every day, Ms Lauren Osbourne, otherwise I’m never going to be able to look at you in the same way again.’
‘What if I said it was?’
‘Then I’d be lost.’
‘There are worse things to be,’ she murmured, her mouth against his neck.
Zak sat up abruptly. He swept the Scrabble letters from the board at their feet and then started to rearrange them. A moment later, he held it up to her. C.O.L.D.S.H.O.W.E.R. it said.
‘That’s what I’ll need, if we go any further,’ he told her.
‘Double-word score and it goes over the middle star thingy,’ she informed him. ‘I reckon that gives you forty points.’
‘Whooping your arse at Scrabble is no longer my major consideration.?
??
‘Zak.’ Her voice faltered. ‘We could spend the night together.’
He shook his head. ‘You’re with Jude.’
She held out her hands. ‘Not that you’d notice.’
‘You know what I mean, Lauren. Two wrongs don’t make a right. There’s nothing I’d like more than to spend the night with you. But you’ve had a lot to drink, you’re with another man and you might well regret this in the morning. I’m happy to Scrabble you within an inch of your life but that’s as far as it goes. I’ll stay here tonight if you want me to. I’ll curl up on that rather comfortable-looking sofa over there.’
Lauren ran her fingers down his chest. ‘Sure?’
‘If you hear the shower running in the night then you know that I’m having second thoughts,’ he said with a laugh.
‘You spend a lot of time on sofas on my behalf,’ she reminded him.
‘You’re worth it.’ Then he stood up and briskly moved the food tray and the Scrabble from the bed. ‘Settle down,’ he said. ‘I’ll tuck you in.’
When she was snuggled between the mascara-stained sheets, Zak kissed her softly on the lips. His mouth was warm on hers, soothing, and she didn’t want it to stop there.
Lauren watched Zak pottering round the room for a few minutes, then he lay down on the sofa and pulled the throw from the bed over him. Lauren realised that she hadn’t thought of Jude for hours.
‘Goodnight, Ms Osbourne,’ he said.
‘Goodnight, Mr Reynolds.’ She blew him a kiss.
Zak put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. Lauren pretended to go to sleep, but she didn’t. Watching him in the dark made her smile.
Chapter 44
‘I missed you on Saturday morning, Sexy,’ Blake Chadwick tells me when he swings into the office on Monday morning.
The colour floods to my cheeks as it always does when he talks to me. ‘I’m sorry.’
Blake shrugs. ‘No worries.’
‘My husband took me away for the weekend,’ I tell him. I don’t mention that it was an utter disaster on every level.