by Nana Malone
He looked so different, shaved head, beard, wearing white linen, looking as though he’d joined a commune of some sort. Gone were the designer shades and sharp suits. And the beard. What was that about? It wasn’t even a fashion beard. It was like an upside down nest on his chin.
“Listen, I’m not going to spoil your night,” he said, his eyebrows furrowed with what looked like concern. “I’ve been such an asshole.”
Selena’s eyebrows shot up. She wasn’t going to disagree with that statement, but it certainly hadn’t been what she thought would come out of that bearded mouth.
“I met this spiritual guide in Berlin,” Simon continued. “He showed me myself. The real me. And how I’ve been to the people around me. You’re my only family and I’ve treated you like shit. I’ve changed, Selena. And I’m sorry.”
She was speechless. She inhaled a long breath before exhaling slowly, while Simon watched with bated breath.
“Thanks,” she eventually said. “I’m glad for you.”
“Listen, I’m going to go,” Simon said, stroking his beard. “I just heard you were in France and I was camping only an hour away, so I wanted to see you. Can I call you sometime? The least you can do is give me a job when I get back to London. You’ve got everything and I’ve got nothing.”
Selena’s breath caught in her throat as her mouth dropped open. After a pause she responded, “Not so reformed after all. It’s still all about you.”
Simon’s brows furrowed and before he could retort, she cut him off. “How the hell could we work together after what you did?”
“You’re nothing but an ugly bitch,” Simon hissed, his happy hippy facade slipping.
“No, Simon,” Selena said, her voice strong and sharp. “It’s you who’s the ugly one. It’s always been you. I don’t need to take your shit anymore. Now stop causing a scene at my event, and get back to your compound. Go pray for your soul. Although I think it’s too late for that sorry burnt-out thing.”
Turning her back on the crowd, Selena took a deep breath and pep-talked herself back into boss mode. This was still the best night of her entire career so far. Her project had come to fruition without a hitch. Well, that’s not strictly true. A passionate affair with someone who was plotting to destroy her business could be classed as a hitch, but that one aside, everything else had gone well.
45
It was late at night and Nick was having trouble sleeping, which was nothing unusual. Ever since he’d begun sleeping on the sofa, his nights were long drawn-out stretches of tossing and turning between small portions of slumber. But knowing that his mother never had to clean piss off her hall carpet due to neighborhood thugs again was worth the sacrifice. He liked hearing her mumbling in her sleep through the thin walls. It gave him comfort knowing she was there.
He picked up his phone, temporarily blinding himself with the screen light so close to his face in the darkness. Once his eyes had adjusted, he clicked on FaceSpace to see what was happening. He scrolled through, stopping to laugh at his mates’ videos of drunken dancing and his cousin’s cute baby pictures. His heart stopped for a moment, however, when a picture of Selena in a scarlet dress on the red carpet filled his screen.
He ached just looking at it. She looked out of this world. Far better than Tamara What’s-her-face, who she was standing next to. The model had nothing on Selena. That subtle inch of cleavage, the long, tumbling honey coloured curls, the lips, red like hot chilis and those black heels. Damn, the black heels. Like the pair she had worn when he went down on her in her leather office chair. Shit. This picture undid all his healing in one fell swoop. He smiled as he read the Shades of Chic post that said “We did it. We launched in Gay Paris.” He couldn’t be happier for her.
That’s what she wanted. She did it. He scrolled down to see pictures of the rest of the team and was surprised to feel heavy-hearted at the sight of Nancy and Marnie. What he wouldn’t give to be back working there rather than locking up a grimy bar in the early hours of the morning. He missed those people. And he felt physical pain to see Selena again, smiling so wide her joy was infectious, in that group photo.
He bit his lip and considered texting.
No. Don’t be an idiot. The last thing she wants is to hear from you. But… what if she does? What if she replies?
Against his better judgement, he opened a new text, selected her number and began typing, his heart pounding.
Selena, you look absolutely stunning in the launch photos. I’m so glad you succeeded. You are a star. I will never forgive myself. X
If she never replied, it was enough for him to know he had tried to send her good vibes. He curled back under the blanket, sore, lost and full of regret.
Selena’s phone pinged. The launch after-party was limping to an end. Her red lipstick was well and truly faded, and bleeding at the edges, and her hair had flattened from all the bumping and grinding she and Nancy had done on the dance floor. The team, who were waiting for cars to drop their drunken asses back at the hotel, were slumped around a large round table littered with so many glasses it resembled a world record attempt at the most champagne guzzled in one sitting. She closed one eye to get a better look at her phone screen, her head blurry from alcohol.
Nick? Why the hell was he texting?
She turned to Nancy. “He’s a lovely, gorgeous, horrible man,” she slurred.
Nancy hiccupped. “Who is?”
“That man,” Selena replied. “I can’t say his name. That bastard. He was so, beautiful and such a liar.”
Nancy laughed. “You could be talking about so many men, dear. You’ll have to elabor— Oh wait. I know who you’re talking about.” Suddenly, Nancy’s face slumped onto the table and she gave a loud snore.
“Great, I’m pouring my heart out to you and you fall asleep,” said Selena, sighing.
She held the phone in her palm for a long time considering whether or not to reply. She clutched it for so long, the cars arrived and security men ushered them gently out, and still she hadn’t let go.
The next morning, Selena awoke in her hotel room, sprawled across the bed, still sporting the scarlet dress. Her head was pounding. The team had really made the most of their special night. They had practically drunk France dry of champagne. Still, it was the best night she’d had in a long time and a real bonding session for the team.
Memories came flooding back to Selena as she rolled over onto her back and rubbed her eyes. Simon. Oh God, he was there. Somehow, she felt numb towards him. Her anger was fading. He was no threat to her anymore. He was nothing but a spoiled little brat and she had finally learned to rise above him. It had only taken a quarter of a century.
Her handbag was on the pillow next to her head. She reached over for it to rummage inside for her phone. Her mouth was so dry, she would have to use the hotel phone to ring for a room service coffee. And juice. She would ask them to bring her all the liquid they could find. But first she would check her messages, as she did automatically every time she woke up.
Another memory bounced into her sore brain. Nick texted. Shit. I didn’t reply did I?
She quickly located the text and was relieved to see she only typed “Wha” and hadn’t clicked send. He would think she had simply ignored him. That was the best result. A drunken text, either hateful or full of nostalgic lust, would have been disastrous. She re-read his words and couldn’t help but smile. She was glad he felt bad. She was also glad he thought she looked stunning. Yeah, see what you could have had, Nick? You missed out on all that because of your silly games. Don’t mess with Miss Day.
She clicked delete, then located his name in her contacts list and deleted his number altogether. Shit. That’s him officially gone. Should I have done that?
She bit her lip and looked up at the ceiling with a forlorn frown. She was doing the right thing by staying strong and ignoring him, wasn’t she?
Her phone buzzed. Selena’s heart skipped a few beats. She grabbed the phone immediately to see a text from De
e and breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t acknowledge the disappointment that hid behind that sigh.
You killed it last night, Lena. Your pictures are all over the Internet and you look amazing. Congratulations to my high-flying, beautiful friend. X
She replied, Thanks gorgeous. I’ve saved you a goody bag. I think you and I need a holiday together soon. You in? X
She smiled at the thought of unwinding and laughing with the one person who was always there with a positive pep talk in life. She would lavish Dee with some proper treats soon. And having a project—holiday planning—would keep her mind off, other things. Things beginning with N.
46
Four months passed. Four long months of late-night bar shifts and sleeping on the sofa. Nick passed his master’s with flying colours. As he pulled on his black graduation gown, he stood tall. This was the moment he had been waiting for. He wanted to feel that certificate in his hands, as a confirmation that after several false starts, he was finally finished with studying.
“Well done, Nick,” his lecturer enthused with a hard pat on the back. “Remember to give my mate a call. He has an opening in the overseas marketing department which you would be great at. I’ve put in a good word for you.”
Nick’s grin was so large it was almost painful. “I’ll definitely call him, thanks Steve,” he said.
Life was finally drama free. Chris had been quiet for a while, which for once was a good thing. He was holding down a job and spending the rest of his time gaming in his living room—a far healthier habit than rubbing shoulders with dealers.
His mum held onto his arms and looked up into his green eyes. She was silently weeping.
“I’m so proud of you.”
Nick’s heart swelled. He kissed her gently on the forehead before putting on his mortar-board hat.
“Nick Harvey?” called the photographer.
He held the fake rolled-up certificate and flashed a grin towards the camera. Each step in this formulaic process of graduation was exactly what he had been longing for. It was the end of a gigantic struggle and he would savour every moment.
After the ceremony, where they all shook hands with the school Dean and listened to speeches by tycoons who had made it big internationally, the graduates spilled out onto the steps of the concert hall.
Nick bounced down the steps, clutching his scroll, grinning at his mum who was waiting on the bottom step. A black Mercedes passed and as the electric window wound down, the reflection of the sun bounced off the glass and caught his eye. Selena. His breath caught in his throat and he stopped in his tracks. Her hand pressed on the half-open window as she pulled her face out to meet his gaze. It was definitely her. He swore he could see a smile on her lips as the car continued down the road.
He stood, frozen on the third step, watching the car become a black blob in the distance and then disappear altogether in the throng of city traffic. His heart had lifted and swelled to see her, but now he was on a major comedown after that fleeting high. His chest ached and his breath was suspended, still trapped in his chest.
“Nicky? You all right, love?” his mother asked.
He took a sharp breath and shook his head out of its foggy daze. “Yeah, let’s skip the formalities here and do lunch,” he said, pulling off his long, black gown. “My treat.”
As they walked, his mother began to tell him about a new women’s social club she’d joined around the corner from Nick’s place.
“Brenda from the group says I’m a natural at floral arranging, you know. I think meeting new people has done me a world of good. I’d never have done that if you hadn’t made me move in with you. They’ve even been asking for deposits for the bus trip up north next summer. Do you think I should go?”
“Yeah,” Nick said, flashing his mother a grin. As she continued to talk, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. His heart was still attempting to settle into its normal rhythm after that blast from the past. It had been months since he last saw Selena, but the feelings were evidently as raw as ever. That had to mean something.
The surge of energy he’d felt at just the sight of her face. Surely it was a sign that there were still some glowing embers in the ashes of their relationship. He longed to know if she felt the same. He had to know if it was possible to nurture those embers back into flames. His rush of thoughts was interrupted by Mandy tugging on his sleeve.
“What about this place? I’ve never eaten French food,” she asked, flashing an excited smile. It was good to see her so happy. She looked so much brighter, younger even.
Nick’s eyes roamed over the bistro. Glittering chandeliers beckoned them in over the threshold and the floor was decked out in large black and white square tiles. Candles dripped in wine bottles on every table and pictures of the Eiffel Tower and kissing couples lined the deep red walls. It was Paris on speed. It was all a bit over the top for Nick, especially as it was the city he wanted furthest from his mind right now. Too many memories.
“Sure,” he said, forcing a smile and gesturing for his mum to enter first.
A large wooden mannequin, sporting a curled moustache and a dinner jacket with tails welcomed them with a chalkboard sign, which read, “Please take a seat… bon apetit.”
Over French onion soup and large glasses of rich Beaujolais, Nick’s mind began to wander again, while Mandy relayed the comings and goings of the upcoming flower contest she was entering.
His eyes darted over the framed photographs and the dusty wine bottles at the bar, making a mental list. He knew exactly what he needed to do to reach out to Selena. Whether or not she would welcome his attempt to give her a good old-fashioned wooing was another matter, but he was willing to take a risk. What was the worst that could happen? A slap in the face? Being publicly rejected by the most amazing woman on the planet? None of that could possibly hurt as much as the reality of never even taking another shot. He simply had to try.
47
Selena looked out onto the gently shimmering city scene framed by her enormous window. It would be dark soon and street lights and office blocks were casting a glow in the early evening twilight. She sat in silence, admiring the view for a few moments, tired and ready to call it a day.
“Selena, a courier just brought an urgent note in for you,” Nancy said, popping her head round the door.
“Oh?” She spun her chair round to leave the living artwork that was her window and reached out to take the note. Nancy lingered, but when Selena stuck a finger tip in the corner of the envelope and hesitated, shooting a quick glance from under furrowed brows, she quickly turned and scuttled out. Selena tore at the envelope and read the letter aloud. “Thank you for your generous donation to the Children’s Disfigurement Support and Counselling Service. What?”
She took a sharp inhale of breath and raised her fingers to her lips. She shook her head. She hadn’t donated to that particular cause. Who might have done so on her behalf? It couldn’t be the one person she thought might have done it. It had been too long since she’d given him the money.
She glanced over the rest of the note to see in red ink at the bottom, Meet me outside.
What? Now? She threw the note down and bit her forefinger. She had to go downstairs and see what this was about. But what if she wasn’t ready for this? What if was him? It had to be him. A rush of nerves circled her stomach. Oh hell, she needed to see his face. Even if only for an explanation, she convinced herself. She darted out of her office, clutching the letter, and made for the stairs. The elevator would mean waiting, and she was in no mood for waiting.
She stumbled out of the main doors into the crisp autumnal air, catching her breath slightly at the realization it was a bit chilly. There he was. As heart-stoppingly gorgeous as she remembered. His hair was tousled in a sexy mess above his angular face, his green eyes focused on hers with purpose. He took a step forward.
She waved the note. “This.”
“I told you I never wanted money,” he said, stepping even closer. “It wa
s never about that. I was going to bring a bucket and burn it in front your building, but I thought you’d get mad.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Besides, those kids could do with it.”
Selena let her breath out and quickly gulped in some air, as if she’d been starved of it. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything,” he said, his eyes searching her face tenderly. He walked over to the entrance to pick up two helmets and returned, holding one out for her.
“Want to go for a ride?”
“What? Where? Erm…” she shook her head. What on earth was going on? She had no control over the situation and although it felt bizarre, she was ready to surrender. She let him lead her down the steps onto the sidewalk where she gasped to see a pale blue moped parked at the curb.
“Is that yours?” she asked, laughing.
“It is for tonight,” he said, flashing her a knowing smile. “Want to be my passenger?” She swallowed and assessed the situation. Nick put one arm round her waist and pulled her close. “Just give me one chance,” he said gently. “I haven’t been the same since we met. I need to see you. I was a total prick and ruined everything, I should have just told you. I loved you then. I still do. Life is shit without you in it.”
Selena’s mouth was parted on a gasp.
“You don’t have to make any promises,” he continued, pulling her closer. “Just see where this night takes us. Please. I have a surprise for you.”
“Okay,” she finally replied. The feel of his hand on her waist brought back that comfortable feeling she’d almost forgotten about. But she hadn’t forgotten those emerald eyes or the way they made her stomach flip when they gazed right into her. Her breath was short as she weighed her options. Shit. There was no other option. Life without Nick was dull as a dishwater. Right there, in that moment, was the first time in months that she’d felt excited and full of hope. She felt truly alive. She had him in her grasp and the last thing she wanted to do was watch him leave again. She knew she had to go with him this time. Without saying another word, she pulled on the helmet and flashed him a nervous smile.
