“I don’t want to talk about Felix anymore,” she finally said.
“Alright fine, but you’re going to have to sort this out some way or another.”
“I thought I would just ignore it until it goes away.”
“That doesn’t sort anything.”
“It does when the problem can physically walk out of the room.”
“Well, you’re going to have to deal with him because my birthday is coming up. You simply must come. I made Daddy give me his plane.”
Shania shrank with embarrassment. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“What? Are you embarrassed by me?” She turned to the couple sitting a short distance away. “My Daddy has a plane,” she said brightly. They stared at her as if she were insane. “You’re so bourgeois,” she said when she turned her attention back to Shania with a challenging look.
“Bourgeois—is that a word anyone has actually used in the last fifty years?”
Esme had a tendency to make fun of their cultural differences, particularly Shania’s repulsion at the worship of money that had been so rife where she’d grown up. In her formative years, it was clear that her dreams were supposed to be becoming some baller’s girlfriend, flying around in designer clothes and private jets, being envied by everybody for the sheer amount of gold around her.
She’d never been one for pipe dreams and had simply sought to escape the go-nowhere neighbourhood she’d grown up in, giving up the supposed hope that some famous person would discover her in the little strip joint she’d had to work at for a short time before she decided she wasn’t going to accept that life.
Living fast, not taking shit and gathering good memories had been her aim when she’d left the US, because that was the most she’d thought she could hope for. Perhaps she’d rejected the wealth worship because that’s what everyone had expected from her, and she was big on the ‘fuck you’ to people who saw her as nothing but trash—except now that she had a career to worry about, so she had to tone it down a bit.
Plus, since coming here, she’d seen how fucked up rich people were. Being rich wasn’t as glitzy as the glossy pictures made out. She hadn’t met a one of them that was straight in the head.
“So next weekend, we are off and I’m not taking no for an answer,” Esme continued.
Oh, God, now what? Shania thought. Birthdays to Esme were not some ‘toned down evening in a restaurant’ thing; it was an excuse for something much more grand, which was going to cost a bomb.
“I’ve been thinking Santorini.”
Shania chewed her lips. She’d always wanted to go to Santorini. Apparently, there was some Greek in her heritage somewhere if her gran could be believed. All the pictures she’d seen of Santorini make it look like the most spectacular place on earth, and yeah, it would cost a bomb, but in this case, she probably wouldn’t mind. This she would be quite happy to check off her bucket list—provided Felix didn’t completely ruin it. How pissed would she be if Felix ruined a perfect few days away in paradise? It would be just like him to.
Chapter 50
Something had happened between Megan and Jesus, but Megan wasn’t talking. She had returned from some excursion they’d had, buzzing about him. Aggie didn’t get the feeling they’d slept together or anything, but everything was about Jesus now. Megan rewrote her life to suit the person she was interested in. Aggie didn’t necessarily think it was a good idea—not the Jesus thing, as the jury was out on that, but the propensity to change herself to suit someone else.
Megan hadn’t been all that receptive to Aggie’s advice for caution. So here they were at Virtue again. It was a cool place and undeniably successful, but Aggie didn’t normally do the same place in a row too often. They would be wearing out their welcome soon if they kept this up.
Stylish photos of Megan littered the place, which created an odd atmosphere, considering this contained both her ex and her next. As if this was the battlefield for her affections.
Aggie dismissed the strange thoughts and looked around, seeing Ricky up on his platform, showing off for the crowd. He was such a showman—adored the attention. Ricky was a simple creature, really. Attention whore, some would undoubtedly call him.
He was downright sexy in a blatant way, the clothes that showed off his body, the tan and the carefully styled hair. Ricky knew his look and he knew how to work it. It wouldn’t surprise her if Ricky had more skincare products than she did. Saying that, she still found him sexy for some reason. She would absolutely never go so far as to see boyfriend material in someone like him, like Megan had—a conclusion Aggie would never reach about someone like him. Ricky was a toy and he presented himself that way.
If she were honest, she’d thought he was dubiously sexy from the moment he’d turned up, but her loyalty to Megan hadn’t let her consider it. Things might be a little different now that Megan didn’t even notice him anymore. It was like that switch had been turned off. Ricky didn’t exist in Megan’s book, and not the artificial ‘I’m hurt, so I am going to pretend you aren’t here’ cold shoulder, because there was nothing beyond Jesus now. Aggie wondered how Jesus was taking this change. He might be shutting Megan down pretty quickly. Jesus didn’t seem to mess around with girls.
“Hey,” the smooth, velvet voice said, pulling her out of her visual search for Megan, who had left to go find Jesus.
“Ricky,” she said in greeting. “How is it all going tonight?” He was warm and sweaty with exertion, which didn’t actually detract from how attractive she found him.
“Good,” Ricky said. “It’s an easy night. Some nights you have to work for it, but tonight, it flows. Could almost do the job from here.” He had a glass, which looked small in his hand. Nice hands. He had to take good care of them. His arms were hairless, as was what she could see of his chest. She guessed he waxed, which would make his skin smooth. Hard muscle and smooth skin.
A stirring of heat clenched inside her. It wasn’t perhaps as surprising as it should have been. On no level was Ricky her type, but he was just overtly sexual and she did respond to that. She’d never been with someone like him. She’d had boyfriends and potential boyfriends, but not someone for whom she was interested in only one thing.
When she was younger, it had seemed so important to be taken seriously by the guys she was with. She wasn’t just some lay; she was the real deal, but she was older now and that need to be someone’s ambition just wasn’t as important these days. In fact, she would love to be one of those girls he took out the back and did naughty things to. She’d like to know what that felt like.
As he truly didn’t exist to Megan at the moment, there was really no reason she couldn’t indulge, was there? Her insides clenched in anticipation. She truly did feel like a bit of a vixen.
“You are very good at what you do,” she said and Ricky looked surprised at the compliment. How easily would it be to flirt with him, and how quickly would he respond? The mere suggestion and he would have her knickers down in some secluded spot? She wouldn’t half mind, but she did need to square things with Megan first, ensure she didn’t object with a bit of dallying with her cast-off.
“Thanks.”
He leant back, his black-covered legs stretched out. “Did you come with Megan?”
No, was he going on about Megan again? He really had to give it up. “She’s running after Jesus.”
Ricky actually looked hurt for a moment. Guys did tend to have delayed reactions to breakups, while girls cried their hearts out immediately and then moved on.
“I guess she’s moved on,” he said.
“You can’t blame her, really, can you?”
“I was kind of hoping she would give me a second chance. I didn’t appreciate her like I should have.”
“Can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”
“Maybe I was hoping I could. I lost more than her in the process. I miss having a group to hang with.” Well, he royally screwed that up and no one would be loyal to Ricky over Megan—just ho
w things were. “On a level, I knew she wasn’t the right person for me.” Perhaps Ricky had a little more depth than she gave him credit for. “But I miss having people to hang with, you know? I gave up everyone I knew when I finished with her. Didn’t realise how alone that would feel.”
“We’re heading out to Santorini for Esme’s birthday next week. Perhaps you could come as my plus one. I haven’t got a significant at the moment, so there’s a spare spot—if you want.”
“Yeah?” he said hopefully.
“You must know, though, that Megan is asking elsewhere.”
“Your message is coming through. I’ve blown it with her.”
“Yep,” Aggie said, rubbing her hand down her lower leg.
She was definitely going to have things squared away with Megan by the time this trip came around, and as far as she was concerned, her dry spell would be over. She couldn’t wait.
Chapter 51
The driver turned into the airfield and Megan saw familiar faces next to the small jet with its door folded down. The Dunbury Inc logo was small between the cockpit window and the door. A neatly-dressed stewardess was waiting for them.
A group was already gathered, including Esme and that ghastly American girl the Dunburys seemed to have adopted.
“Hi,” she said when she got out. Her driver retrieved her small Louis Vuitton travel case and handed it to the pilot at the rear of the plane.
“Just a few more,” Esme said excitedly. Felix looked murderous, but then he always did—genuinely an unhappy person, and had been as far back as she could remember.
Miles said hello and Clara waved. They waited in awkward silence for a while.
“I hope the weather will be good,” Clara said.
“It’s supposed to be,” Esme said, but the awkwardness didn’t give. “I can’t wait to have a drink.”
“I thought you didn’t drink anymore.”
“Generally, I don’t, but it’s my birthday and I will do what I want to.” Felix gave her a glowering look. “You stay sober, then.”
The arrival of another car was met with relief. It was Jasmin, who stepped out in a flowing pants suit and a tied headband, the ends hanging down her back. It was an interesting outfit and Megan went through its merits.
“Who’re we missing?” Felix asked.
“Aggie,” Esme said.
Oh, that’s right, Megan though uncomfortably. For some reason, Aggie was bringing Ricky. She’d called saying he was really lonely. Megan had ended up agreeing, but now hoped it wouldn’t be awkward. She still felt that guilt at having brought him here and dumping him, even if he completely deserved it.
A few more minutes and Aggie’s car pulled in and parked. Both Aggie and Ricky came over, carrying their bags.
“Okay, let’s go,” Esme said and headed to the plane. It had rows of plush leather seats down each side of the fuselage.
“Where’s Jesus?” Aggie asked as they sat down. Ricky was still outside, handing his bag over to the pilot.
“He said no,” Megan said, feeling close to tears. She’d been wracked with worry ever since she’d asked if he’d wanted to come and he’d said no. She’d been too shocked to ask why, had just mumbled ‘of course’. Now she wished she’d had, because it was preying on her mind—not that she would call him and ask. Did it mean he wasn’t interested in her? Maybe it did. Why wouldn’t he come?
“He is very busy,” Aggie said. “New club and sorting everything with that.”
“Ricky came,” Megan said.
“But Ricky’s just a DJ. Jesus cannot be replaced.”
“No, I’m sure you’re right.”
“Don’t look so worried. And besides, you can’t fall to pieces just because Jesus doesn’t do what you want. He’s really not the type to follow someone else’s lead.”
“What if he’s just not interested in me?”
“What of it?” Aggie asked. “He’s not the be all and end all, and if he’s not interested, there is nothing you can do about it.” Sometimes Aggie made Megan feel downright dense. “There is absolutely no point dwelling on it. And if you do end up having something with Jesus, you might just have to accept that he does what he wants and jetting off for a few days might not be his style.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.”
Ricky walked down the aisle of the plane and took a spare seat. The stewardess followed, asking for his drink order. Ricky seemed pleasantly surprised. No doubt he was already trying to figure out how to seduce the girl. If anyone was joining the mile-high club on that trip, it would be Ricky. How she had managed to delude herself about him, she had no idea.
They took off and the sun shifted sharply around the inside of the plane as it rose and shifted course. They were heading clear across the Mediterranean to Santorini. She’d done a shoot there the year before, but hadn’t been with the group.
The worry about Jesus and the state of things crept back into her mind, even as she knew Aggie was right. She only had control over her half of the relationship. Jesus had control of the other half and he hadn’t made any indication either way if her interest in him was reciprocated.
The last time she’d seen him, he’d run his hand down her arm as he’d greeted her and she’d so badly wanted to see that as a sign, but she also knew that touches like that didn’t necessarily mean anything to the Spanish. If only she’d had the guts to demand an answer from him. Instead, she just got those dark eyes on her, making her insides go to absolute putty.
In some sense, it was a wonder she didn’t run a mile, considering how nerve-wracking this was. Looking back now, Ricky had been so easy. It had just slipped into place without any commotion at all, which was probably a sign that all was not as it should have been. She’d been an utter idiot. The old adage was definitely true: if it seemed too good to be true, it was too good to be true.
Ricky had his earphones on and his head was bouncing to some inaudible beat. Always into that awful music. That was another thing that should perhaps have raised a red flag. She hated what he did. Not so much the job, but the music he played. It was just droning noise—plus the fact that his affections were liberally flowing like a broken tap.
He was just a dog and always had been. Saying that, that guilt she felt about him refused to relent. Aggie had pointed out how lonely he was and didn’t know anyone. Perhaps it was her fault for picking a dog in the first place and she couldn’t rightly hate him for being exactly what he was—she’d just refused to see it. And a dog wasn’t just for Christmas, as they say. She was responsible for him.
She didn’t strictly mind him being there, she decided, provided he didn’t make a nuisance of himself. Aggie seemed to be taking care of him, which was really nice of her.
Chapter 52
Not even Felix could disagree that the hotel was spectacular—all white against the vivid blue of the Aegean. The water of the sea was mirror still and it would be hard to tell where the sea finished and the sky began if it wasn’t for the remote islands on the other side of what was assumedly the great volcano that had at one point created this dramatic landscape.
The receptionist in the sparse, minimalist lobby had informed them that a private tour could easily be organised to the island across the other side for a day of hiking. Like hell. Felix wasn’t leaving the bar, which was situated off the lobby, with spectacular views.
Shania stood at the back with her arms crossed, the straps of her backpack making her look squarish. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun and she looked nothing like the slick image he normally saw at work, with her tight pinstripe skirts and soft blouses. In fact, she’d changed quite a bit since she’d first turned up in Marbella. Gone were the shiny black leggings and neon crop tops. Now she wore shorts and a tank top. She looked like your basic American tourist. Perfect tanned legs stretched down into plain, white trainers. Even like this, she looked incredibly hot. That unshakable assurance was still there.
“I’m getti
ng a drink,” Felix said, feeling his tolerance run out. Right now, he wanted to sit down and nurse something brown and burning.
Esme turned to him, looking disappointed. “We’re heading up to the pool,” she said, and this pool was apparently on the roof of the hotel. “Why don’t you try not being totally antisocial and join us. Just an idea.”
“Maybe once I settle.”
“You mean after you grow roots to the bar stool?” Why was Esme giving him a hard time? It wasn’t like she particularly wanted to hang with him, was it?
Grabbing his bag, Felix headed to the bar. He could check in after the rush. It wasn’t as if he particularly cared about getting the best room.
The bar was stocked and he ordered a whiskey, cherishing being alone after a plane ride that felt long and too full of chattering people. If he’d had a choice, he wouldn’t have come, but he couldn’t well say no to Esme on her birthday and he did feel he owed his dad to watch over her—even if he had to hang with little miss light skirt in the process.
Shania was ignoring him; basically pretending he wasn’t there. And then there was fucking Ricky on this trip, who she’d been slutting it around with. Why the hell was he here? Along with Megan, too. So Ricky was here in the mix, along with his ex, and the chick he cheated on ex with. Who thought it was a good idea to bring him along?
It grew quiet in the lobby and Felix enjoyed it for a while, until he started wondering where everyone was. After finishing his drink, he checked in and found his room, which had white plaster walls and wooden floors. The hotel continued its minimalist theme in his room and there was precious little except the necessities. The necessities were of the highest order, though. The shower was the rain variety, mounted into the ceiling.
All in all, it wasn’t a bad room. The bed looked cosy and standing there looking at it gave him a vision of him in there, entwined in lovely tanned legs. With a groan, he rolled his eyes.
Maybe it was time to find everyone, instead of sulking in his room. There was a little sign on the edge of his balcony pointing to the pool; actually pointing to a staircase up the side of the hotel. Even the steps were whitewashed and none of the lines were completely straight.
Marbella Neat Page 18
