The Plus-One Agreement

by Charlotte Phillips

  ‘Who the hell is that?’

  ‘Emma, ignore it,’ he said. ‘We need to sort this out. You’ve got it wrong.’

  The knocking graduated to a muffled banging of the kind a fist might make, and she shook her head lightly at him and moved towards the door again.

  He glanced down at himself. In a sudden flash of clarity it occurred to him that the visitor might feasibly be Emma’s mother, and his arousal would be obvious to her in the space of one look. He glanced at the door to the en-suite bathroom, thinking vaguely that he might take refuge in there for a couple of minutes while Emma got rid of whoever it was and then they could pick up where they’d left off.

  He was on his way across the room when she opened the door and Adam, who had clearly been leaning on it, stumbled into the room, performed a twisty lurching pirouette and threw up into the nearest pot plant.

  Oh, just bloody perfect!

  * * *

  ‘For Pete’s sake, help me get him to the bathroom!’

  Emma had managed to pull Adam to his extremely unsteady feet and struggled to hold him upright as he lurched about. Dan rushed in and took over, throwing one of her brother’s arms around his neck and heaving him into the bathroom before he could collapse again. She followed them in.

  ‘The wedding’s off!’ Adam groaned, slumping over the sink. His always-perfect hair hung in a dishevelled mess and his face was a sickly shade of green.

  ‘What the hell’s happened?’ she said.

  He lifted his head and pointed an emphatic jabbing finger at her as he swayed drunkenly.

  ‘I’m a has-been, darling,’ he drawled. ‘It’s all over. It’s all gone.’

  His knees gave way unexpectedly and Dan made a lunge to catch him before he hit the white-tiled floor.

  ‘He’s absolutely wasted,’ Emma said, staring down at him. ‘What the hell do I do?’

  ‘Call down to Room Service,’ Dan said. ‘Black coffee. He needs to sober up.’

  She left the pair of them in the bathroom and went to use the phone, her mind reeling. She’d never seen Adam lose his cool before. He had no worries that she knew of. His life was only ever full of things to celebrate. As she replaced the receiver there was the sound of gushing water from the bathroom and a piercing shriek of shock. Dan had obviously stuck him in the shower. She grinned in spite of her worry. Whatever she had to cope with now, at least Adam might be more lucid.

  Adam emerged from the bathroom, still hideously pale, but his shocked eyes were now wide and staring. Water dripped from his face and his hair and he was clutching a towel and madly rubbing it at his front.

  Dan followed him, his hands spread apologetically. ‘Look, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I know cold water’s a bit of a shock to the system, but it’s great for sobering you up and I couldn’t think what else to do.’

  ‘Cold?’ Adam wailed. ‘It’s not the bloody cold!’ He cast horrified hands downwards at his sopping wet purple suit. ‘What the hell have you done? This jacket’s designer!’

  EIGHT

  Dan turned over for the fiftieth time on the sofa, knees bunched up because the damn thing was too short for him. Unfortunately that wasn’t the only reason why sleep was totally elusive. The way Emma had felt in his arms had been far too delicious, far too enticing, for him to simply brush it out of his mind. Add in to that the way she’d put an end to it without having time to give a proper explanation and every nerve in his body was on full-scale alert, his arousal refusing to stand down even in her absence.

  And, as interruptions went, needy family crises just about ticked his worst possible box. His stomach lurched between desire for her and the more rational desire to run a mile. It was bad enough to be in the middle of a huge family event when the last thing you wanted to be reminded of was the fact that you couldn’t actually do family. He’d thought he was holding his own on that front pretty well, but now family complications were seeping in at every turn and he couldn’t think of anything worse...

  Somewhere in the small hours, after he’d finally given up on her returning to the room—not that it had made any change to his sleepless state—there was a soft click as the door opened. The benefit of his eyes being used to the velvet darkness meant he could watch the silhouette of her every move, while she had to feel her stumbling way from one piece of furniture to the next. Had he ever been more wide awake?

  She muffled a yelp as she tripped over a chair and he took pity on her and reached to turn on the table lamp. She blinked at him in the muted golden light. She wore a sweater over her sleep shorts and vest that wasn’t long enough to hide her gorgeous legs. His pulse immediately picked up where it had left off a couple of hours ago.

  He heard her sigh as she clocked that he was still awake. He watched her run a hand through her already dishevelled hair as she sat down hard on the bed. Her face was a pale oval and there were dark shadows of tiredness beneath her eyes.

  ‘You’re still up,’ she said.

  He sat up on the sofa, the sheet bunched around his waist.

  ‘I wasn’t sure you were coming back tonight,’ he said.

  ‘Neither was I,’ she said. ‘I think Adam’s drained the hotel’s supply of black coffee.’

  ‘He’s sobered up, then?’

  She nodded.

  ‘He’s sobered up. I thought that stuff about calling off the wedding was just cold feet—the usual night-before thing, down to him having drunk too much champagne. But there’s more to it than that.’

  She held his gaze for a moment.

  ‘He’s in financial trouble, Dan,’ she said.

  Worry etched her face and tugged at his heart.

  ‘He’s going under unless he can come up with a plan pretty damn quick.’

  ‘For Pete’s sake, what’s he gone and done now? Spent a huge wad on a purple Bentley?’

  She didn’t smile.

  He sat up straighter.

  ‘Didn’t you tell me his pictures sell for five figures?’ he said, scratching his head and trying to think clearly. Tiredness was kicking in now. He had absolutely no desire to discuss Adam’s spending habits at two in the morning.

  ‘One of his pictures was supposed to. A month or so ago. Adam borrowed a wodge of cash on the back of it and then the sale fell through. He’s been so in vogue recently that even he believed the hype. Instead of being productive he’s been spending money he doesn’t have like water. A new swanky flat here, a shedload of designer furniture there... And now things have reached breaking point. He only found out this afternoon.’

  ‘Can’t Ernie bail him out? I thought his family were swimming in cash.’

  She frowned at him.

  ‘That’s exactly why he doesn’t want to tell Ernie. He doesn’t want him to think he’s marrying him for a bail-out. And, more than that, he doesn’t want Ernie to think he’s a failure. You can’t imagine what that means to Adam—he never fails at anything. Ever. He’s refusing to change his mind about calling off the wedding. It was all I could do to make him promise not to do anything until the morning. I need to think of a way to persuade him by then.’

  Dan looked at the worry darkening her face and saw a flash of hope in her eyes as she fixed them on his.

  ‘What he really needs is some sound business advice,’ she said, with a pointed tone to her voice that really wasn’t necessary. ‘From someone who knows what they’re doing.’

  She wanted him to step in. The unspoken request hung in the air as clearly as if she’d shouted it.

  Cold clarity immediately took over his brain with the automatic response that had been honed and conditioned in him over the course of the last ten years.

  Not his problem.

  He didn’t do family problems. That was actually the one big advantage of not having a family—not getting sucked into ot
her people’s dramas, not having anyone rely on him for help. He’d thought he’d done a pretty good job of distancing himself from the blasts from the past that the whole family wedding ambience kept lobbing his way this weekend, but this was a step too far.

  ‘You want me to talk to him?’ He could hear the note of frosty defensiveness in his own voice. ‘I’m not convinced that would be a good idea. It’s his private business—nothing to do with me. He needs to discuss it with Ernie. Isn’t that the whole point of marriage—shared problems and all that?’

  He dropped his eyes from hers so he wouldn’t see the disappointment seeping into them. He ran a hand awkwardly through his hair.

  ‘There isn’t going to be a marriage unless someone gets him back on track,’ she hissed.

  ‘What makes you think that someone should be me? I don’t think Adam would thank you for involving a stranger in his personal problems. This isn’t down to me,’ he said.

  ‘A stranger?’

  He glanced up and caught her gaze again. Bitter disappointment lurked there. Deep in his stomach a spike of regret kicked in unexpectedly at the idea of letting her down. He steeled himself against it. He shouldn’t care about this.

  She paused a beat too long, during which he held his position and didn’t give in, and then she exploded.

  ‘Fine. Absolutely fine,’ she snapped, leaping to her feet.

  Had she really thought he would step up to the plate? Why the hell had she assumed that? Because he’d kissed her? After months of zero romantic interest he’d kissed her. OK, so she’d thought there had been something more than their usual work relationship growing between them this last day or so, but clearly she’d imagined that. Her first instincts had been spot on and she’d been totally right to stop him in his tracks.

  Her mistake had been in hoping that what was between them was in any way about more than the kiss and what he’d obviously intended to follow that kiss up with if Adam hadn’t interrupted them spectacularly.

  ‘You didn’t even ask me what was wrong with Adam,’ she said dully. Her head ached tiredly and she rested her hand against her scalp, lacing her fingers through her hair to pull the roots back from her face, trying to clear her thoughts. ‘I thought you were waiting up for me all this time to make sure I was OK, to be supportive, but you weren’t actually wondering for one second what the problem was. If I hadn’t just told you, you would never have asked me about Adam, would you?’

  She glanced down at her fingers.

  ‘That’s not what you were waiting up for at all, is it? You just wanted to pick up where we left off earlier. You thought I’d sort Adam out, get him over his hissy fit, and then we’d have the rest of the night to make it into that bed.’

  She nodded across the room at the four-poster.

  For a moment she got no response and she raised her eyebrows at him expectantly. See if he could talk his way out of this. Or if he would even be bothered to try.

  ‘This has nothing to do with what happened earlier,’ he said, not meeting her eyes. ‘I just think Adam is big enough to sort out his own problems. I don’t get why you need to get sucked into this. His overspending isn’t down to you.’

  She stared at him, incredulous at his lack of concern.

  ‘Because that’s what families do,’ she said. ‘You know, I always thought nothing could ever touch Adam. He’s led a charmed life. As if everything he ever touches is sprinkled with happy dust. When I was a kid I sometimes used to wish for just one time when he would stuff up, show everyone that he wasn’t perfect.’

  She paused briefly, thinking of how upset Adam was now. There was no joy in that for her. She wasn’t a stupid kid any more.

  ‘For once I’m not the one who’s screwed up, but I have no good feeling about that. What good would it do if my parents knew what had happened? I just want him to go back to his usual crazy self.’

  She made a conscious effort to curb her voice. It was so late now the hotel was pin-drop quiet. Every word she spoke felt amplified in the silence.

  ‘Of course you do,’ he said. ‘You’re comfortable in his shadow, so you’re hardly about to want that shadow to get smaller, are you?’

  She stared at him.

  ‘Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?’ She wanted to shout it. Her voice felt shaky on her tongue. She kept her tone measured with great difficulty.

  He shrugged.

  ‘It’s safer, isn’t it? Believing that you’re always going to be inferior? Means you don’t have to put yourself out there. You rely on Adam being the star that he is in every possible way because it’s an excuse for you to take the safe option.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘Isn’t it? Look at our plus-one agreement. I know what I was getting out of it—easy networking, work contacts. But what about you? Your dates were all about presenting a front to your family, because that way you didn’t have to put yourself there in reality. With me you couldn’t fail.’

  For a moment she had trouble comprehending what he meant because it came as such a shock. A sharp, hot lurch hit her in the stomach. She shoved away the thought that this was what it felt like to have someone touch a nerve. Refusing to engage in one-upmanship with Adam was a way of avoiding grief from her over-interested parents, not a way to embrace the safe option because she was afraid of failure.

  * * *

  Dan saw the dark, defensive anger flush her face and wondered for a moment if he’d gone too far. She’d made him feel such a lightweight for not pitching in instantly to help Adam—who, frankly, was responsible for his own cock-up. Discomfort at the situation had stopped him holding back, and second thoughts seeped in a moment too late.

  Her hands flew to her hips, her eyes flashed in anger and her previous attempts to speak in a low voice went totally out of the window.

  ‘You’re twisting things!’ she yelled. ‘I don’t know where the hell you get off, preaching to me about family bloody values. Your concern gene is mutated. All this has been about—all anything has ever been about for you—is getting someone into bed. In this case, in the absence of any willing curvy blondes, that happens to be me. Well, I’m not interested in being one of your dispensable little-black-book girlies. I don’t need you as a boyfriend—not even as a fake one. If this wedding goes ahead—which, the way it looks right now, is unlikely—I’ll go it alone. I don’t need you. So first thing in the morning you can get back to your sad workaholic singleton life in London.’

  He’d never seen her lose her temper. Her voice shook with the force of it and she stood at her full height, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. Even in his amazement at her overreaction—which told him he’d not only touched a nerve but had held on to it and twisted it hard—the most visceral part of him zeroed in on how utterly beautiful she looked in that animated moment.

  Then admiration fell flat as she turned her back on him, stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door so hard he was surprised the hotel didn’t collapse into rubble around them.

  * * *

  Not the delicious uninhibited night of passion he’d expected when he’d kissed her a few hours earlier. Admittedly at the time his mind hadn’t been working ahead by more than a few minutes. He certainly hadn’t thought about the consequences—it had been very easy to discount those. Any possible repercussions had seemed very far away when the silk of her skin had been beneath his fingers.

  If he’d been lying in a regular bed he would have been ramrod-straight. Instead he was cramped into a hunch with his knees up. His body was one big throb of pent-up sexual energy. Every muscle was tightly coiled up with it. And did he really think he could pass the whole night like this?

  She’d spent an hour in the bathroom before she’d re-emerged into the darkened room and stalked past him into bed. No attempt to make conversation. Now a silver shaft of moonlight fil
tered through a chink in the curtains and fell on her bare shoulder as she lay with her back to him. The long legs were drawn up; she was curled beneath the sheet.

  For an endless length of time he had felt sure, despite her silence, that she was awake. Her angry vibe had been palpable. Tension still filled the room. He shifted again, in a vain attempt to get comfortable, and wondered what exactly he was bothering with all this for.

  He should be looking on Adam’s rubbish timing as a very fortuitous wake-up call, shouldn’t he? He’d been completely focused on the overwhelming physical pull of her. If he’d stopped for a second to analyse it he would have assumed it would be a one-night stand. After all, he’d made it clear that their agreement had run its course, and that had removed any benefit of keeping things platonic between them. He’d been thinking quick weekend fling.

  Hadn’t he?

  If his interest in her was purely physical, dispensable, then why did her furious criticism of him gnaw at his insides like this? He had no obligation to her or her family, and yet somehow she’d managed to instil guilt because he didn’t want to get involved in Adam’s undoubtedly crazy problems.

  He didn’t do guilt. That was one of the main benefits of keeping his relationships shallow. He and Emma didn’t even have a relationship and he couldn’t bloody sleep. He had no idea how she’d managed to do this to him.

  There was a part of him that was halfway back to London in his head already, keen to do exactly as she had suggested.

  She shifted gently in her sleep and he sat up on the sofa, throwing back the crumpled sheet. He could see the smooth pool of her dark hair on the pillow. The quality of the light in the room had changed almost imperceptibly and he glanced at the luminous face of his watch. Dawn would be kicking in before he knew it. He could be back in his Docklands flat in an easy couple of hours if he left now. No need to battle London traffic if he left this early. Why the hell was he even still here?

  You want to help. You want this involvement with her and her family.