“Think of it like this. You walk down a hallway and go through the same door every time. It’s a nice door, mahogany, solid, brass fittings. Behind the door is the best Sunday roast you’ve ever had.”
Jasper pauses and I say, “If you’re about to compare me to a roast chicken, I might kill you.”
He grins. “Patience, Beatrice. Patience. Anyway, one day you’re walking down the hallway and there’s a new door. It gleams in a way that begs you to open it. You’re powerless against its attraction, try as you might to resist. So you go through and at first it looks like it might be the same Sunday roast you’ve had before. But it’s not. You start with the finest champagne and when you move on to the meal, you realize this, this is perfection. This is what you’ve been missing this whole time and you didn’t even know it. And because you realize how bloody lucky you are to have found it, you can’t help worrying about a day the door will disappear.”
“Are you worried I’ll disappear?” I ask softly.
“Every day,” Jasper says.
Jasper doesn’t say anything else and I don’t either. I wrap my arm around his waist and hold tight until we fall asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I wake up the next morning to Claire standing in my doorway saying, “Scarlett’s coming over. She wants to talk about London. I thought you might need a minute before she gets here.”
I sit up and push my hair out of my eyes. “What time is it?”
“Half ten.” Claire points at me. “You, um, have a bit of a mark on your neck you probably need to do something about.”
My hand flies up to my neck. “Oh, God. Thanks. I mean…” I stumble out of bed. I’m wearing my panties and the T-shirt I wore yesterday, which is better than it could be, considering I crawled into my own bed at 4:30 this morning, leaving Jasper buried under the covers in the attic room. He nearly convinced me to stay, but now I’m glad I insisted on coming back to the cabin.
I glance at Claire as I stand in front of my wardrobe. “Is it cold enough for a hoodie?”
She nods. “If you leave your hair down, you’ll be fine.”
Okay. I grab a pair of shorts and underwear and head to the bathroom, closing the door behind me and coming face-to-face with the mirror. In addition to the purple mark on my neck, my hair is wild. Those two things I can fix or hide. The beard burn on my chin? Not so much. Shit, shit, shit. My stomach churns, but I swallow it down. Panicking isn’t going to help and I need to take this one step at a time.
First step, shower. I turn on the water and am about to strip off when there’s a knock on the door. Scarlett wouldn’t knock, so I crack the door. Claire holds out a small tube. “Here, this might help your skin a little. It’s got aloe vera in it.”
“Oh my God, thank you.” I owe Claire a present. A big one.
“You can pay me back by telling me about your date.” Claire grins and closes the door, yelling from the other side, “And I want the juicy details.”
I laugh and step under the stream of water. I immediately wish I could stand here for an hour instead of the quick wash that’s only good for washing the smell of sex away and pointing out how fragile I feel. The hot water streaming over my breasts and the tenderness between my legs remind me how intense last night actually was. I waste a precious minute and lean against the wall, letting myself smile at the memory of Jasper’s mouth on me until I come to my senses.
I can’t be doing this. Not with Scarlett practically on the doorstep. I work some leave-in conditioner through my hair, turn the water off, and after wrapping my hair in a towel, set to hiding the evidence of my not-so-platonic evening. The hickey is easy. It’s big, but it’s more red than purple and a few layers of cover-up work wonders. Once I’ve got my sweatshirt on, you won’t even be able to tell.
My chin, though, is another matter. I use Claire’s cream and my skin feels better, but it looks just as red. My cover-up works a bit, but Scarlett knows how little make-up I normally wear and she’s going to notice. Short of wearing a scarf over my face like an outlaw from the American West, I’m going to have to suck it up. Especially since Scarlett’s here and calling me from the kitchen.
“Bea? Do you want coffee or tea?” she asks.
I take a deep breath and open the door. “Coffee, please.” I glance in the mirror one more time and step out into the living room. “Thank you, my dear. Cream too, or is that pushing it?”
“Pushing it. Especially since I didn’t see you come home last night.” Scarlett’s back is to me, but Claire’s eyes widen. “You and Jaz have a good time?”
“Yeah. We went up to some lake and hiked a lot. It’s really gorgeous around here.” My voice sounds normal. Yay me.
“Jaz loves the lake and he knows all these trails that feel like they’re leading nowhere, then you end up at some amazing pub.” Scarlett turns and squints at me. Shit, shit, shit. “What happened to your face?”
“I, um…”
“I lent Bea my face mask this morning and I think it’s an allergic reaction,” Claire says. She turns to me. “You should keep an eye on it. If it gets much worse, maybe take an antihistamine?”
Scarlett’s brow furrows. “Yeah, it looks bad. Maybe you should take one anyway.”
I shrug and focus on keeping my voice even and my gaze on Scarlett. “I’ll see what happens.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Claire asks. “Did Mr. Waring-Smith send you dates?”
Scarlett grins and turns her attention to Claire. Thank God. I lean against the counter and my heart thuds like a bass drum in my chest. It’s all I hear for a good minute and by the time I tune back in, Scarlett’s in full on planning mode. “He’s suggested staying at the Avaaz at Liverpool Street or a hotel by London Bridge. Do you have any preference?”
Claire shakes her head. “London Bridge is more central, but the Avaaz is probably nicer, so either is a decent option. If we’re by London Bridge, we’re right at Southbank, but if we’re by Liverpool Street, we’re close to Shoreditch, which is super trendy and has some cool bars. Again, both great options.”
Scarlett laughs. “Okay. That’s no help.” She turns to me. “Which would you rather? Be close to touristy bits or the clubs?”
“Um…” Crap. My voice still wobbles. I clear my throat. “Touristy bits, probably. You know, because I’m a tourist.”
Claire laughs. “Good point. We need to make sure you see everything.”
“I’ll tell you right now, I am not taking one of those open-top bus tours,” Scarlett says. “I don’t mind if you do it, but I can’t.”
“You totally should,” Claire says. “For getting the quick and dirty London, it’s fab.”
“Quick and dirty London?” Scarlett cackles. “Stick with Claire and you’ll get plenty of that.”
“Okay, Miss Holier Than Thou, let’s see, shall we?” Claire says. To me, she says, “Scarlett’s so quick to point out my rendezvous because, unlike her, I do not hold court everywhere I go. Windermere, case in point.”
“I was in it for the free drinks.” Scarlett shrugs and says, “Besides, this trip is business for me, thank you very much.”
“Is Mr. Waring-Smith attractive, by any chance?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
“No comment. I’ve talked to Mum and the bookings are lighter next week, so we could go Tuesday to Thursday. That works out workwise, as in Mr. Waring-Smith is available then, too. Or, as he says, he can make himself available.” Scarlett scowls. “If it weren’t for the possible payday, I’d have serious second thoughts about this whole thing.”
“The exposure could be amazing,” I say.
“That’s what I mean.” Scarlett claps her hands and straightens. “Okay. I’ll book train tickets and get the hotel sorted, but mark your calendars, girls. We’re going to London.”
Scarlett and Claire talk for another couple of minutes about must visit restaurants, while I lean against the counter pretending to listen. In reality, the only thing I can hear is my guilty conscienc
e screaming at me about Jasper. I can’t go to London with Scarlett and not tell her. I can’t possibly tell her before we go to London.
She’s going to hate me either way.
The only question is which way will make her hate me less.
Apparently that’s the question on Claire’s mind, too, because the first thing she says when Scarlett walks out the door is, “Are you going to tell her?”
“I have to.” I close my eyes. “But how?”
“How about something like, so, you know how Jaz and I went out yesterday? Well, we ended up having hot monkey sex all night and I have it bad. Sorry, not sorry?” Claire grins, but there’s a seriousness in her expression I can’t ignore.
“But I am sorry. I never meant for this to be anything.” Even as I say it, I think of all of the opportunities I had to stop it on its way to becoming something, starting with Plan B. “I mean, I just broke off an engagement, for God’s sake.”
“I’ve heard you say that a lot, but from what I’ve heard about your fiancé, it sounds like it was inevitable. The question is how you feel about Jaz. I mean, if this was a one night thing to get him out of your system, no harm done. But if it was more, you’ve got to tell Scarlett.”
I think back to last night. The sex was amazing, but the part that makes my stomach free fall is the way Jasper looked at me, pushed my hair back from my face, kissed my fingertips. And the look in his eyes as he did it. Before I crawled out of bed early this morning, he wound his fingers with mine and asked me to come back tonight. And I said yes. Eagerly. Unequivocally.
This is so much more than a one-nighter.
Which means it’s clear what I have to do.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The first opportunity I have to tell Scarlett about Jasper and me is two nights later over pints in the bar after everyone has left. Claire has a headache. Jasper’s working on his dissertation. And Lou, Hannah, and Paul all left together. It’s a perfect chance to spill to Scarlett. So perfect I’m willing to let Scarlett talk me into trying a pint of Newcastle that looks more like coffee than beer.
“So, what do you think?” Scarlett gestures to the pint glass in my hand. “I know you’re usually a Coors Light kind of girl, but this is worth the calories, yes?”
“Sort of.” I shake my head as Scarlett opens her mouth to protest. “I mean, the thing about Coors Light is that it’s not an overly strong flavor, so I don’t even really think about it. Whereas this I can’t help but think about.”
Scarlett nods. “Well, that’s not a no, so I’ll take it. We’ll expand your horizons yet.”
“I’ve expanded my horizons plenty, thank you very much. I mean, spotted dick? Hello?” I know it’s immature, but I can’t help laughing. “I still think it’s gross, but I at least tried it.”
“It is gross. I don’t know why Lou insists on keeping it on the menu.”
“She likes it. I asked her.”
Scarlett makes a face. “Well, it’s best off avoided in any form. Speaking of dicks, I don’t see you making much progress on the dating front.”
I take a sip of the pint I’m not quite sure I like before I speak, but the words still stick in my throat. “I went out with Jasper a couple days ago.”
Scarlett doesn’t respond, getting her phone out instead. For a minute, I wonder if she heard me, but then she holds the phone out to me, a picture of a decent looking red-haired guy filling the screen. “What about him?”
I lean back. “What about him?”
“His name is Alex and he lives in Underbarrow, which is about ten minutes away. We went to Sixth Form together and he’s a really great guy. Maybe we could double date?” Scarlett swipes her phone to another picture. This one is a dark-skinned guy with longish hair. “And this is Sunesh. He’s super smart and a total maths whiz. I’m sure you two would find plenty to geek out about.”
“Um --” I shake my head. Did she not hear me or did she choose not to? I can’t even tell.
“I understand if you’re reluctant to go out with anyone solo, which was why I started thinking about a double date. You aren’t going to drive and obviously there’s nothing really accessible within walking distance, so if we make it a double date, we could just meet the guys somewhere.” Scarlett takes her phone back. “It alleviates a whole set of potential problems to arrange it that way anyway.”
I’m so flabbergasted I don’t know what to say, so I choose the most innocuous thing while I try to gather my thoughts. “And who are you going out with?”
Scarlett grins. “I’ve been texting a guy I met at Republic quite a bit. He keeps asking me to meet him out and it got me to thinking.”
“Thinking about fixing me up with one of your old high school friends?” My thoughts have started taking shape now. So has my annoyance.
“They’re great guys, both of them. And I mean, you’re not exactly putting yourself out there.”
I can tell by the easy lilt to Scarlett’s voice she doesn’t think she’s doing anything wrong, which is the only thing keeping me from ripping her head off. I could dive into the whole Jasper thing right now, but I dip a toe in instead. “Maybe I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing. Did you ever think of that?”
Scarlett shrugs. “I just think if you take the first step it can only get easier. And sometimes you need a little push. I mean, remember how reluctant you were to move off campus our senior year? But then we did and it was epic, and look what you would have missed.”
She’s right. When she’d started trying to talk me into moving into an apartment, I’d balked big time. But she found a great place within walking distance of campus and her steady persistence wore me down. I have to smile. “God, we had a great time in that apartment.”
“Remember that time we came home after being out all night and I decided I needed to cook mac and cheese? I thought you were going to kill me, but then the girls downstairs came up and we ended up having this big cooking extravaganza at 5:00 a.m.?”
“Yes.” I laugh. “Elle made pot brownies and we all went to class slightly stoned for days.”
Scarlett’s laugh rings out across the empty room. “Oh my God, I forgot about that, but it did make my stats class so much better.”
“Oh, please. I did your stats homework for you at least half the time.” I roll my eyes for effect.
“I know, but I still had to go to class, which was much more tolerable under the influence.” Scarlett takes a sip of my pint. Hers sits empty and mine is barely touched. “The best was when we had that cold spell over Thanksgiving and instead of turning on the heat, we used the gas fireplace the whole weekend.”
I remember that vividly. We’d each taken a sofa and camped in the living room all weekend in front of the fire, alternating between watching movies and pretending to study. “It was great until we got the bill. Remember? A thousand dollars. I still cringe thinking about it.”
“It was worth it, though. I mean, if you think about it.” Scarlett takes another sip of my beer. “I know it was a lot of cash, but those days are gone, you know? Now you have a job and I’m manic trying to juggle everything all the time, and even if we could do that, we probably wouldn’t.”
Scarlett’s expression is caught somewhere between happy and sad and I wonder if mine is the same. We haven’t walked down Memory Lane in ages and it’s a good trip.
One I’m not going to ruin by bringing up Jasper.
The minute I decide, a pressure eases in my chest and a laugh bubbles out of me. Scarlett furrows her brow, but she has a half smile on her face as I say, “We should. When we get back, we should totally play hooky and spend a day watching chick flicks.”
“Only if you’ll let me watch Sex in the City.” Scarlett holds up a finger. “It’s the quintessential chick flick and I don’t care if the series was better.”
I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But I get Titanic.”
“Titanic is awful. It’s so sad. I’ll let you have Legally Blonde instead.”
> “And Pitch Perfect.” I take a sip of my beer. “One and two.”
“Fine, but only because I like Fat Amy.” Scarlett grins. “You know there’s that new film with Ashley whats-her-name that we need to see, too.”
“So many movies, so little time.”
“Well, it’s not like there’s any downtime here, really. Speaking of things being full on.” Scarlett rolls her eyes a little. “At least you’re getting paid. That’s something.”
I don’t know what Scarlett’s financial arrangement is with her parents, but I know she only has a ten-hour-per-week job back in Atlanta and she’s never short of cash. Either way, I’m not going there. “Have I thanked you recently for hooking me up with this job, by the way? Because seriously, I couldn’t do this if I weren’t getting paid and it is so much better than summer school.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure you have, actually.” Scarlett grins and this time it’s followed by a laugh. “I believe there was some talk of you writing the outline for my thesis, wasn’t there? How are you getting on with that?”
I laugh, too. “About as you’d expect, honestly.”
“Okay, well, you need to get on it because that due date is going to come faster than a virgin at a strip club. In fact, I can feel it, ahem, becoming pressing from here.” Scarlett winks.
I laugh and we sit in easy silence for a good minute. Then Scarlett slips off her barstool and says, “I need the loo so I’m heading up, since I know for a fact these toilets haven’t been cleaned all week. You want to join?”
I shake my head. I’m pretty sure Jasper’s up there and even though I’ve chickened out of telling Scarlett tonight, she deserves to hear it from me, not pick up on some vibe between us, or worse. “I should be getting back.”
Scarlett doesn’t press it, but she squeezes my hand as she walks past. “This was fun tonight. We should totally do this more often.”
I nod. “I’d like that.”
I watch Scarlett leave the bar before sliding off my stool myself. Tonight was fun. Scarlett and I haven’t had a night like that all summer and it felt almost like old times. Except our old times didn’t include me keeping secrets from her to keep the peace.
A Brit on the Side (Castle Calder Book 1) Page 19
