‘Fair dos,’ Alex said, before he was distracted by his two-year-old daughter and dragged away to look at a view from the other side of the pod.
Tristan watched him interacting with his kid and felt a strange sense of longing that he’d not experienced before. Lula’s face flashed into his mind, but he boxed it, knowing it was ridiculous to read more into his connection with her than was actually there. He was just tired and out of his comfort zone and it was making him feel sentimental.
They wanted very different things and it would be crazy to believe otherwise.
* * *
After a few more days of keeping her head down and disappearing whenever Tristan walked into the room, Lula was ready to face the Radio Industry networking event with her calm restored.
Sort of.
Her nerves weren’t just about having to maintain a state of emotional distance from Tristan all night, though, the thought of performing as her DJ persona face to face with all those people made her feel positively queasy.
She’d never been good at socialising in large parties. The mere thought of having to make small talk with total strangers without the anonymity of her microphone and a closed studio made her jittery, but she knew she had to suck it up and put on a good show if they were going to persuade more companies to invest in the station.
The success of Flash had to be her main priority here.
Tristan finally caught up with her after her show, the day of the networking event.
‘Are you still on for tonight?’ he said, blocking her way out of the studio so she was forced to stop and talk to him.
It was the first time she’d been this close to him since the night in his apartment and her body trembled with tension as she attempted to stay cool and collected in the face of his intense charisma.
‘Yes, I’m all keyed up and ready to go.’ She gave him the most assertive smile she could manage.
The sexual hunger in his returning grin made heat rush straight between her thighs.
His reaction only reinforced her assertion that it was fabricated ‘self-assured Lula’ that he was attracted to though.
‘Great. Well, the thing starts at eight, so I’ll pick you up in a cab at seven-thirty,’ he said moving closer.
She put up a hand, her heart thumping hard. ‘No, that’s okay. I’ll just meet you there.’
His brow creased in confusion. ‘It’s no trouble, Lula.’
‘I know, but I’d rather make my own way there, thanks.’ She’d stood firm, knowing if she had to spend any time with him in the close confines of a car she was bound to start the evening a flustered mess. There’d be plenty of time for her to degenerate into a tangle of nerves once they were there.
After scanning her face, he finally nodded. ‘Okay, if that’s what you’d prefer.’
‘I would prefer that, yes.’
She almost bit the words back as she registered his offended expression, but before she could open her mouth to try and explain, he’d turned around and strode away.
* * *
As promised, Tristan waited for Lula outside the revolving doors to the imposing Mandarin Oriental hotel in Knightsbridge.
All the breath left his lungs as he watched her walk up the steps to where he stood. She looked utterly beautiful in a figure-hugging, sleeveless gold dress that clung to her amazing curves and stopped just above her knees displaying a pair of gold six-inch-heel shoes. She could have been the goddess of opulence with her long hair piled loosely on top of her head and her bright eyes sparkling with metallic-coloured make-up.
No one was going to treat her as if she was invisible tonight.
His gut twisted as he remembered how cold she’d been towards him earlier that afternoon, no, strike that, since she’d walked out of his apartment the previous Friday night.
She’d very obviously been avoiding him since then and he didn’t like it one bit. This need to push and push for a reaction had become something of an obsession for him and the constant knock-backs were beginning to get to him.
He really respected her assertiveness though. She was the bravest, most electrifying woman he’d ever met and he wanted her. More than he’d wanted anyone or anything in his life before. But most of all, he wanted her to admit she wanted him back.
‘Hey,’ he said as she reached the top of the steps. ‘You look beautiful.’
Her gaze didn’t quite meet his and he wondered whether she considered beautiful to be an inappropriate word to use. Admittedly, it wasn’t usually utilised in the boss/employee vocabulary but it fitted the context perfectly.
‘Thanks,’ she murmured in that sexually evocative voice of hers and he wondered how he was going to get through the evening when all he wanted to do was drag her off to bed and do wicked things to her.
They walked through the glossy marble lobby to the cocktail bar, which was already thronging with people. It was an impressive place. The right hand wall was made up of glass cabinets displaying a dazzling array of cocktail glasses and an impressive range of wine bottles. The rest of the place was done out in brown leather, glass and chrome with a long catwalk-shaped bar in the centre of the room.
When he glanced at her, Tristan was surprised to see Lula hanging back with a fixed smile on her face.
Okay, time for a drink.
After grabbing two glasses of red wine from a passing waiter he handed one to Lula. ‘Shall we mingle?’ he said.
She nodded, then held up one finger and took a long sip of her wine, before flashing him a steady smile. ‘Let’s do it.’
Resisting the urge to put a guiding hand at the base of her back, he walked around the room with her, dropping in and out of conversations, which Lula let him lead, adding in her own words of wisdom as necessary.
He could tell people were impressed with her and he felt a surge of pride to be there in her company. Quite a few mentioned they’d heard her show recently and complimented her on it. She accepted the praise with a gratified smile, but Tristan was concerned by how subdued she seemed otherwise.
Surely she couldn’t be that uncomfortable in his company?
She nipped out a couple of times for a bathroom break and he found each time that he felt hollow without her there by his side and relieved when she returned to stand with him again.
As they were chatting with a small group of people that worked at one of the other independent stations in the region they were approached by a guy wearing a loud shirt and a big smile. He zeroed in on Lula and began talking to her about how his company was looking to run some ads on one of the younger, more cutting-edge radio stations.
‘I have to say, your weekday Breakfast Show is markedly better than it used to be when Jez was presenting.’ He leaned in conspiratorially. ‘The guy’s a good businessman, but he’s a little parochial when it comes to DJing. Better to leave the presenting to the talent, I say.’ He gave Lula a knowing wink.
She smiled pleasantly but didn’t say anything back.
Tristan jumped in quickly and pressed the guy to talk more about his needs—hyper-aware that they had to grab any lead they could right now.
He chatted for a while to the guy and managed to arrange for him to come to the station the following week and have a chat about buying some targeted airtime.
After he moved on, Tristan turned back to Lula to give her a furtive high-five, but she was staring round the bar as if in a daze.
‘Lula? You okay?’
‘I’m just going to the bathroom,’ she said, giving him a firm smile.
‘Again?’ He pinched his brows together in concern. Was she ill? When he looked carefully he realised she did seem a bit paler than usual.
‘What, is there a limit on bathroom breaks or something?’ she said, jokily, although the wild look in her eyes told him to back off. He didn’t
want to though, not until he was sure she was okay.
‘No, of course not.’ He was concerned to see she was trembling. ‘I’ll come with you,’ he said, gesturing out of the bar.
She twitched her eyebrow into an expression that said Why would you want to visit the ladies’ toilet with me?
‘Not to the bathroom,’ he clarified with a grin. ‘Just out of here.’
* * *
Lula walked quickly out of the bar with Tristan hot on her heels.
She needed some head space, away from all these people. It was great they all seemed to want to talk to her, but her reserves for intelligent banter were quickly depleting and she could only stand there mute for so long, allowing Tristan to lead the conversation, before it began to look like she wasn’t making an effort.
And it wasn’t just the fact she felt she was making a mess of selling herself and the station, but that she was doing it standing next to a man who only had to glance her way to turn her brain to jelly. She was finding it virtually impossible to concentrate without being distracted by Tristan’s intoxicating scent and the sexual magnetism that seemed to roll off him in waves.
Her body actually felt feverish with arousal.
She must be coming across as a real idiot tonight and she really didn’t want him to think badly of her.
She made her way down the corridor towards the bathrooms with Tristan one step behind, her body burning with awareness of his presence in the cool quiet.
‘See you in a sec,’ she said, pushing the door open and striding inside before he could answer her.
Pressing her forehead against the cold glass of the full-length mirror next to the sinks, she took some deep breaths, willing her mind to clear and her heart-rate to slow down.
This was torture. Added to the strain of dealing with being around Tristan, the event itself was bringing back memories of the awful parties her parents used to hold where she was expected to circulate, making witty, intelligent conversation with their friends, when all she wanted to do was run away and hide. She used to feel physically sick before them—and sometimes tried to convince her parents that she actually was ill. They never let her off them though. Apparently they thought it was imperative for her to learn how to act in polite company. She’d never been able to get it right, always managing to say the wrong thing to someone and chastising herself for days, or sometimes weeks, afterwards.
This networking thing was bringing back all those old feelings of insecurity she’d fought to get past.
‘Are you okay? You looked like you were about to pass out in there,’ he said as soon as she exited the bathrooms and found him leaning against the wall, waiting for her.
‘I’m fine.’
He put a hand on her arm to stop her walking past him and as she turned to face him, he gave her a puzzled look. ‘Are you sure?’
His concern seemed to make everything so much worse. She threw up her hands, humiliation making her face burn. ‘What do you want from me, Tristan? I said I’m okay. Let’s just get back in there and get this thing over with.’
He gave her a puzzled grimace. ‘You make it sound like a trial.’
Her gaze slid away from his. ‘Well, it is a bit, isn’t it? Having to make small talk with all those people, hoping they’ll throw some benevolence our way. It just makes me uncomfortable, that’s all.’
‘I would have thought you’d enjoy being lauded as one of the brightest and best presenters in the land.’
She looked directly at him now. ‘Yeah, well, you don’t know me, do you?’
Damn him. Even the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he frowned were sexy.
‘Lula, what’s going on?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean why are you acting like I’ve killed your kitten? I know things have been awkward between us, but I don’t think I deserve this sort of treatment.’
Her shoulders slumped as all the misplaced anger rushed out of her. He had a point, she was taking out her frustration on him and it wasn’t fair. In fact it was downright unprofessional.
‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’
They heard voices coming from the other end of the corridor and she straightened her posture, steeling herself for making more polite conversation.
Tristan tore his troubled gaze away from her to scan the corridor.
‘Quick, let’s nip in here.’ He strode forwards a couple paces and pulled open a door to their right, ushering her in.
She caught the flash of grim determination on his face before he closed the door behind them, leaving them standing in the dark.
‘Tristan, we’re in a broom cupboard.’
‘Yeah, I know, but at least no one will think to look for us in here.’
She couldn’t help but giggle. ‘They wouldn’t be able to see us even if they did—it’s pitch black.’
‘There must be a light switch around here somewhere.’
She felt him bump into her as he groped around the walls.
‘Ouch! That was my toe!’ she said, as one of his feet landed on hers.
‘Sorry.’
He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded amused.
‘It’s no good, I can’t find it.’ The gentle rush of words right next to her ear made her realise he was standing right in front of her, only inches away.
Her heart thumped hard against her ribcage and her whole body tingled with awareness at his close proximity.
‘We probably don’t need light anyway. Considering you’ve barely looked at me tonight it’s not going to make a lot of difference.’ His voice was light, but she detected a twang of indignation, which made her stomach dip with guilt. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’ he said earnestly now.
There was nothing for it, she was going to have to lay everything on the line; they couldn’t carry on like this, pretending everything was just fine and dandy.
She took a deep breath. ‘To be honest, Tristan, I’ve been worried about keeping up the “Hotshot Tallulah Lazenby” act here. I didn’t want to let you and the station down.’
‘What are you talking about?’ He sounded utterly confused.
Despite the humiliation burning up her neck to her face she kept going, wanting to get it all out before she lost her nerve.
‘The thing is, the Lula you think you know doesn’t exist. I’m nothing like my on-air personality. The “me” that you saw that night in your hotel room was a fabrication. I was playing a game, pretending to be the person I project for the radio. And once I’d started playing that part for you I felt like I couldn’t drop the act in case you changed your mind about giving me the Breakfast Show. I’m just not like that. I’m shy. I like reading and quiet nights in and hiding in a crowd instead of being the centre of attention.’
There was a pause, then he sighed and the air around them moved as if he’d adjusted his position
An intense longing for him to touch her twisted her insides.
‘I’m sorry I asked to you come to this awful thing,’ he murmured. ‘I didn’t realise you hated networking so much.’ He was standing so close now she could feel the heat radiating from him.
She pulled a face then chuckled, realising he couldn’t see her. She was glad he hadn’t found the light switch though, it was amazing how much easier it was to talk about this in the dark.
‘It’s okay. It’s my problem. I’ve always been shy. I was the quiet kid at school who never raised her hand or spoke out, but it got to the point where I felt so invisible I realised I had to do something about it. So now I pretend to be confident and vivacious and somehow it works and everyone believes me. I still get terrified during social situations though. I’m afraid I’ll have one of my brain freeze moments where I’m totally lost for words and end up staring at the person I’m talking to with a go
rmless look on my face. Do you ever get that?’
He laughed quietly. ‘Nope. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m the sort of person you can’t shut up at these things. I guess you’re an off the scale introvert to my off the scale extrovert.’ The warmth of his tone penetrated the darkness.
Her heart beat faster as his words sunk in. ‘Is that what you think it is? Introversion?’
He moved again and her insides dipped with disappointment when she realised he must have leant back against the wall opposite her because his voice sounded a bit further away when he spoke. ‘Yeah, that would be my layman’s diagnosis. I had a psychologist come into the business when some of the staff weren’t getting on well together and she explained how an extrovert needs to socialise and have people around them to recharge and an introvert needs alone time and quiet. Just like you do after your show. You hide away while the rest of the team—the extroverts—ride the buzz of performing together. The brain freeze thing is synonymous with introversion too. It’s not a bad thing to be an introvert, in fact a business needs a few deep thinkers, you just naturally deal with situations in a more measured way.’
‘Huh.’ She never considered her need to retreat and hide after a show or party was so normal it had a name. She’d thought it was crippling shyness or an inability to deal with the pressure of performing. Something negative, anyway.
‘I just assumed I was shy because my parents always told me I was. They found it really difficult having a daughter with limited social skills when they were both so gregarious. They ended up speaking for me most of the time to breach the awkward silences.’
‘And look at you now, presenting the toughest show at one of the best radio stations in London.’
She huffed out a laugh. ‘Yeah, I’m not quite sure how that happened.’
‘Through sheer hard work and determination.’ From the tone of his voice she could tell he was impressed by the success she’d made for herself. Her face glowed with gratified heat this time and once again she was grateful for the darkness.
‘Yeah, well...I did a Media degree but I never expected to like DJing so much. I always assumed I’d do something behind the scenes, but it helped me find my voice. I love the anonymity of radio and I guess I use that as a bit of a crutch.’
Fired by Her Fling Page 12
