Million Love Songs

by Carole Matthews

  ‘Well, this is all very lovely,’ I whisper.

  ‘You like it?’

  ‘It’s fab. You say it hasn’t been open long?’

  Mason shakes his head. ‘A couple of weeks. This is one of our ventures too.’ I can’t help but notice the pride in his voice. ‘Well, it’s my baby, really,’ he adds. ‘We’re aiming it at couples who want something a bit out of the ordinary and are prepared to pay for it. We want it to be classy, a cut above.’

  ‘You’ve certainly done that.’ I bet membership here costs a fortune.

  ‘We haven’t even had a proper launch party yet,’ he says. ‘I wanted to give the staff chance to find their feet. You’ll have to come along when we do.’

  As if I’m going to say no. I’d go to the opening of an envelope and perhaps my one desperately underused party dress will get an airing.

  The waitress comes over. ‘Hello, Mason. Nice to see you.’ She gives him a winning smile and they exchange an intimate glance. Hmm. Wonder if this one is another of his many conquests. ‘What can I get for you?’

  ‘Hi Cindy, I’d like a Jack Daniel’s on the rocks, please.’ He turns to me. ‘For you, Ruby?’

  ‘I’d like a Hendrick’s gin with Fever-Tree tonic and a slice of cucumber. Thanks.’

  Cindy dips and puts out two cocktail napkins and a small bowl of wasabi peas. I realise that I haven’t had anything to eat all evening and fall on them.

  ‘We should get some food,’ Mason suggests.

  ‘I haven’t eaten all evening. I could kill for some chips.’

  ‘I’m sure we could organise that.’

  When Cindy comes back with our drinks, he orders two club sandwiches and fries. I’m getting to like this man more and more. And they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. There’s a short cut straight to mine.

  I settle back into the sofa. ‘This is beyond cool,’ I marvel. ‘Thanks so much for bringing me here.’

  ‘I value your opinion. You’re very straight-talking, Ruby. I like that.’ Mason glances round the room and I can see the pride on his face too. He’s clearly pleased with his little self and why not? It’s fab. Most of the tables are full, with couples or small groups of friends, but there’s no lairiness like there is in so many clubs now – one of the main reasons I don’t go to them. Plus I’m about twenty years older than the average clientele. Here, the atmosphere is great. ‘If it goes well, then I’ll roll it out in a few other cities.’

  ‘Bye-bye Butcher’s Arms?’

  ‘Jay is doing a great job. I’m really surplus to requirements there. I know a lot of the staff feel that way.’ He gives me a wry glance and I say nothing. Mason is obviously more shrewd than he appears. ‘I’ve had a very privileged life, Ruby, and I’ve spent a lot of time jetting about, shirking my responsibilities. Now I’m ready to step up to the plate and I’ve managed to let my father give me free rein with a few of my own projects. I want to take on a new role in the company and make my mark. This is my first chance.’

  ‘Looks like you’ve done it with good style.’

  ‘I’ve put my heart and soul into it. It needs to succeed. My old man might have once had a soft spot for the black sheep of the family, but even he’s run out of patience. He won’t cut me any slack if this place flops. It’s his dosh behind it.’

  ‘I can’t see that it will.’

  Mason smiles. ‘Thanks for your confidence in me. I have a lot to prove. Both of my brothers are successful businessmen and my sister is a barrister. I’m the no-good waster of the family.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that.’

  ‘My dad does and what he says is law. He’s a very difficult man.’

  I think of my own family, who are as soft as putty and have ceaselessly supported me through all my trials and tribulations.

  ‘I have a lot to prove,’ he continues. ‘My family look down on me and I’ve played along with it just to wind them up. One of the reasons I spend so much time away is to avoid their scrutiny and their censure. It doesn’t work though.’ He shrugs his shoulders. ‘Now I’ve got to grow up and make something of myself. I can’t sponge off my parents for ever.’ Then he grins at me. ‘They’ve said as much themselves.’

  I laugh at that and we clink our glasses together. ‘Here’s to growing up.’

  ‘How boring,’ Mason says, but we down our drinks anyway.

  I’m surprised that he’s being so candid with me, but I like this softer, more thoughtful side of Mason.

  The waitress brings our food and Mason orders more drinks. We busy ourselves with eating and, when we’ve finished, we settle back in the sofas.

  ‘I’ve talked enough about me. What about you, Ruby Brown? What do you want from life?’

  ‘I’m still trying to work that out too,’ I confess. ‘I’m recently divorced and am finding being single more difficult than I thought I would.’ Perhaps the gin – both doubles, I’d guess – is loosening my tongue. Mason is also surprisingly easy to talk to. Perhaps it’s the convivial surroundings. If I was part of a couple with plenty of cash, I’d definitely sign on the dotted line for membership here. ‘I just know that I don’t want to get into another relationship. I want time on my own to have some fun and try new things.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘I’m open to anything,’ I tell him. ‘The more life experiences the better.’ Annoyingly, I get an unbidden flashback to Joe in his diving gear. Well, the particular bit where quite a lot of him wasn’t in his diving gear. I don’t really want that when I’m here having a perfectly nice time with Mason. ‘I’ve taken up scuba-diving.’

  ‘Cool,’ Mason says. ‘I did my dive training out in the Maldives.’

  Of course he did. Not the bottom of Wolverton swimming pool for the likes of Mason Soames.

  ‘I’ve let my licence lapse now,’ he admits. ‘I’ve been more into skiing these last few years. My family have a chalet in Switzerland which I go out to.’

  Hey, and my family like Toblerone, so we have something in common.

  ‘I’m not sure diving’s really for me,’ I admit. ‘The Maldives are beyond my meagre income.’ Then I realise that it’s Mason who provides my meagre income. ‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ I add hastily. ‘I like working at the Butcher’s Arms, but I don’t think it’s my forever job. Though it does mean that I’m going to have to consider a cheaper hobby unless I want to dive at a gravel pit in the Midlands.’

  Birdwatching. Embroidery. Bridge.

  He clinks his glass against mine. ‘Here’s to life experiences.’

  ‘To life experiences,’ I echo.

  We polish off our drinks and then I find myself stifling a yawn. ‘I should go. I have work tomorrow.’

  ‘Me too. I thought we might have a dance before we leave. We haven’t checked out the dance floor yet and I can throw some great shapes.’

  He’s a funny one is Mason. One minute, he’s all swagger, the next he seems to be eager to please, almost seeking approval. Perhaps having a daddy who’s as rich as Croesus but is a complete bastard means that you’re always trying to live up to unrealistic expectations. I don’t know. It’s late and I’m a bit pissed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  He takes me by the hand and leads me to the dance floor. We are the only couple here which is just as well as you’d never manage to re-enact Saturday Night Fever in this space. The music is slow and soulful, Mason pulls me close and we sway together. I can feel the warmth of his body on mine, his breath against my hair. Every sense is on full alert and I think it’s just because it’s been a long, long time since I had good sex. Or even rubbish sex. Or even sex all by myself. The last six months that Simon and I were together had been particularly bad. But you don’t need me to go into detail. Suffice it to say that Mason is reviving dormant emotions. The heat of his hand through my blouse is more than distracting. His body is slender, all angles, but I can feel the firm muscles in his arms through his shirt. Must be all that skiing. He’s clearly a good mover
too, sensual, and maybe that’s why he’s so popular with the ladies.

  I don’t go home. We have another drink and another. Then we dance again. I feel light-headed and loose. Loose as in relaxed not in, you know, the other kind of loose. OK, I feel a bit loose in that way too. Mason is one hell of a sexy man and, despite vowing not to, I can see myself falling under his spell. Definitely no more gin for me.

  When the song ends, I take the cue to move away from him. If I don’t go now, I never will. But he keeps me pressed against him and my resistance is low.

  ‘It’s late,’ I say, reluctantly. ‘I really should be going.’

  ‘You could stay,’ he murmurs softly, his lips so, so close to my ear. ‘I have an apartment on the next floor.’

  I shake my head. ‘Bad idea. You should never sleep with the boss.’

  ‘I was only asking you in for coffee, you hussy,’ he teases. ‘What kind of boy do you think I am?’

  A bad boy, Mason Soames. ‘I’ll call a cab.’

  He stands away from me and gives me a reproachful look before saying, ‘Let me.’ So, as we walk to the door, he punches a number into his phone and orders a car for me. ‘We have an account with them. The bill will be sorted.’

  ‘Thanks. That’s very kind.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  When we reach the lift, he says, ‘Do you mind if we say goodnight here? I’d take you down to the lobby, but I’d like to go back in and have a word with the staff before they finish for the night.’

  Cindy, probably. And then I chide myself for being so stupid. What if he does manage to persuade Cindy to warm his bed instead of me? It’s no skin off my nose. I’ve had a nice evening with Mason. Better than I’d expected and I feel that he enjoyed it too. He’s good company and the world’s most accomplished charmer.

  He presses the button for the lift. ‘Sure you won’t change your mind?’

  ‘No. It’s been a lovely evening though. Thank you for bringing me here.’

  ‘Let’s do it again,’ he says.

  As we stand and wait, he kisses me softly on the lips and, I’m not joking, I think my head might explode. My lips tingle where his mouth has been and I feel like I’m on fire. We both intensify the kiss and my head swims. He holds me tightly and, at this moment, I could stay. I could throw caution to the wind and spend the night with him. Insert all of the things here that I said before about not getting enough/any sex. I have condoms in my handbag which are calling to me.

  I know that I’d have a great time with Mason. I just know it. He is definitely a man who knows how to please a woman. Of that, I have no doubt.

  Then the lift arrives and the doors bing open. Quickly, I scuttle into it before I lose my senses. It would be utter madness to let this go any further. I know what he’s like. I’ve been warned. But, my word, he’s got my motor running.

  Mason touches his fingers to his own lips. ‘Wow,’ he says.

  ‘Goodnight.’ I don’t think I’ve ever been more flustered. My cheeks are burning and, as the doors slowly close, we both look at each other – with what? Lust? Longing? There’s definitely some chemistry going on here. ‘I’ll see you at work.’

  ‘You should never kiss your boss, Ruby Brown,’ he teases. ‘And, my goodness, you just did.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  When the taxi dropped me home, I fell into bed. But sleep eluded me. I kept going over and over what had just happened. One kiss and I’ve turned to jelly. A particularly rampant jelly. Honestly, my nipples tingled all the way home. I probably should have had a cold shower. I might have got off to sleep quicker.

  The sky is lightening over the lake when I finally close my eyes and nod off. What feels like about ten minutes later, my phone rings and it’s Charlie.

  ‘Are we still doing cooky brekky, chummy?’

  I groan. ‘I’d forgotten all about it.’ I look over at my clock. It’s gone ten. I let my head drop back on the pillow. I feel as if I’ve been drinking when I really haven’t had that much at all.

  Scrap that. When I recall the number of cocktails we downed, it was loads.

  ‘You sound like shite.’

  ‘Late night,’ I confess. She’ll probably find out anyway. That woman misses very little.

  ‘Doing what?’

  I have to bite the bullet and tell her, don’t I? We are friends and, as such, should not have secrets. Sitting up, I wrap my duvet around me. ‘I went out with Mason last night after work.’ I brace myself for the backlash.

  ‘Shagger?’ I hear the incredulity in her voice. ‘You went out with Shagger?’

  ‘For a drink. Or two. That’s all.’ I might be fessing up, but I’m still not telling about our steamy goodnight kiss.

  ‘He’s not in bed with you now, is he?’

  ‘Of course not.’ I try to sound as indignant as I can whilst realising that I really don’t occupy the moral high ground here.

  ‘Are you mad?’

  ‘Possibly. But it was fun. He asked me to go to a club that he’s just opened in the city. What else was I going to do on a Monday night?’

  ‘He’s opened a club?’ Now Charlie’s interest is piqued.

  ‘Yeah. It’s a lovely place,’ I say. ‘Very classy. The Vibe Lounge. Have you heard of it?’

  ‘No,’ she admits.

  ‘Well, it’s fabulous. And he was the perfect gentleman.’

  Charlie makes a harrumphing noise.

  ‘He was. I had some gin, some chips and he paid for my taxi home.’ I get an unexpected warm glow when I think of it.

  ‘Sounds like the perfect date,’ Charlie agrees, grudgingly. ‘It wasn’t a date. He wanted my opinion on the club. He’s surprisingly insecure.’

  ‘Beneath all that twattery.’

  ‘He does hide it well,’ I concede. ‘But he’s a really nice guy when you sit and chat to him.’

  ‘Now I definitely need to see you for brekky,’ Charlie determines. ‘I want a minute-by-minute account. Get up, get showered, your presence is required at Café Rouge in half an hour. This definitely needs to be discussed over a sausage.’

  ‘OK,’ I say, tiredly. ‘See you soon.’

  I fall back onto my pillow again and yawn. Charlie likes to know chapter and verse. She won’t be happy until she knows every single detail about my outing – not a date – with Mason. It won’t just be the sausage that’s grilled.

  We are in Café Rouge. At a window table. Overlooking the water fountain in the pavement that squirts on and off and regularly catches unsuspecting people passing by. That’s why we like coming here.

  The waitress puts two full English breakfasts in front of us and we both fiddle with our tea, toast, eggs.

  As Charlie slices into her bacon, she says, ‘I’m waiting for you to start.’

  ‘I’m confused,’ I tell her.

  ‘You’re a muppet.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to go out with him. It just kind of happened.’ I toy with my brekky even though I thought I was hungry when I ordered it. ‘It felt very natural.’ And a little bit reckless.

  ‘Did you spend the night with him?’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘I bet he asked you to though.’

  She’s not wrong. Charlie never really seems to be. ‘It was in the heat of the moment. We’d both had a lot to drink.’

  ‘Ah, sparkly coloured drinks. The root of all evil.’

  My headache agrees with her. If Charlie’d been there then she might feel differently. He treated me nicely, we had fun and he’s a bright, ambitious guy. ‘I kind of like him.’

  ‘No.’ Charlie holds up a hand. ‘You can like anyone else in the world except Shagger Soames.’

  ‘Can’t I just have a little bit of fun with him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I promise I’d tell you everything.’

  ‘Urgh. I wouldn’t want to know.’

  ‘You so would.’

  She cracks. ‘You’re right, I would.’

  ‘Since Simon left, I’ve
lost all of my confidence. Mason makes me feel young and sexy again. Desirable even. Is that so wrong?’

  ‘He’s playing you, Ruby. You’re my dearest friend, I don’t want to bring you down, but he does it to everyone.’

  I know he has a reputation. I know that. But he seems so sincere too. Can you really fake a reaction like we both had after The Kiss? It seemed genuine enough to me.

  ‘I just don’t want you to get hurt,’ she adds. ‘My bad-boy antennae is on red alert with him.’

  There’s no doubt that he’s on the naughty side, but maybe that’s what I need right now. Joe is lovely, no doubt, but he’s weighed down with cares and commitments. I don’t want to take those on.

  ‘Sometimes you have to take risks though, don’t you?’ I ask her. ‘I don’t want one mistake to define the rest of my life. Sometimes you have to trust your instinct. Isn’t that what love is about? Otherwise, we’d both end up in love with cardboard cut-out Gary Barlow for ever.’

  ‘There are worse things,’ she says.

  ‘Mason ticks a lot of boxes. The main one being that he doesn’t have any baggage. No children, no tricky ex-wife. That has to count for something. My instinct says that Mason Soames is an OK bloke.’

  ‘If you’re going to insist on falling in love again, I don’t want you to fall for a bloke who’s OK. He has to be totally fabulous.’

  Maybe that’s the impossible dream though. Like Charlie holding out for Gary Barlow. While I’m pondering this, she leans over and nicks my sausage. When I open my mouth to protest, she holds up a hand. ‘You’re looking far too smug with yourself,’ she says. ‘This is your punishment. Take it on the chin.’

  So I let Charlie eat my sausage and wonder what will happen next time I see Mason Soames.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  What happens is that Mason doesn’t come into the pub for the next few days – which I think may be a good thing. I can’t help having a surreptitious glance at the car park whenever a throaty car roars in though, which unsettles me slightly. Charlie’s words have struck home. She’s right. I should keep Mason at arm’s length. I know that I shouldn’t be thinking about him as much as I am. And I know that I should never have kissed him. I like this job. I need this job. If it all goes wrong and he starts being funny with me, I could be out of work. Remember that, Ruby Brown.