The One That I Want

by Lynne Shelby

  ‘Jeez, Lucy, you’ve got an awful cut on your leg.’

  I glanced down and saw that my right knee was grazed and bloody from my fall. At that moment, I really didn’t care.

  ‘It’s nothing’ I said. ‘Doesn’t hurt at all.’

  Daniel stood up, and there was more frenzied kissing as he rid me of my underwear and I tugged his boxers over his hips. We fell together onto his bed, and then he was rooting in his nightstand for a condom, and I was opening my legs, and he was lying on me, and thrusting into me and… and it felt sooo good.

  When I woke up the next morning, I found myself alone in Daniel’s bed. The previous night, what with the hot naked guy doing incredible things to my body, I hadn’t taken much notice of my surroundings. Now I sat up and looked around. Despite the amount of action that was alleged to take place inside it, Daniel’s bedroom was unremarkable, with a king-size bed, fitted wardrobes and a chest of drawers. A poster, a scene from Fallen Angel, hung on one wall, and a flat-screen TV on the other. Directly opposite the bed was a mirror, which showed me the reflection of a girl with mussed hair and smudged mascara. I smiled and the girl smiled back. She had obviously just woken up after a night of amazing sex.

  The door to the bedroom opened and Daniel, still minus his clothes, came in carrying two mugs of tea. The sight of him, his naked body bathed in the pale winter sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, took my breath away.

  ‘Morning,’ Daniel said.

  ‘Hi, Daniel.’

  He passed me a mug of tea and sat down on the bed.

  ‘I was watching the news on TV in the other room,’ he said. ‘It snowed all night, and now half the country’s ground to a halt.’ He reached out and touched my mouth, which was still swollen from his kisses. I thought about snow, public transport and my journey to work. Daniel’s hand strayed from my face to my breast

  ‘Daniel,’ I said, ‘Last night was lovely, but I have to go.’

  ‘Last night was great.’ His hand stole under the duvet and stroked my thigh. ‘Don’t go yet, Lucy.’

  ‘I must. I have to be at Reardon Haye by mid-day, and I need to go home first and sort myself out.’

  Daniel looked disappointed, but he took his hand off my thigh. I pushed back the duvet and got out of bed, feeling just a little self-conscious as his gaze travelled up and down my body.

  ‘Your leg looks very sore,’ he said. ‘You might want to clean it before you go.’

  The cut on my knee, which I had thought a slight graze, was now red and angry, and the knee itself was badly bruised.

  ‘Can I use your shower?’ I asked.

  ‘Sure. I’ll show you where it is.’

  As Daniel’s flat consisted of three rooms off a hallway, I could probably have found my own way to the bathroom, but he seemed to want to make certain I was happy with the soap and that I had enough towels. He even handed me a toothbrush in an unopened packet, which, for me, was a morning-after-the-night-before first. I was touched, until I realised that a guy who has a supply of new toothbrushes for overnight guests obviously expects to get lucky. As soon as he’d gone out, I rifled through his bathroom cabinet for signs that any one girl was staying over on a regular basis. He owned more pots of moisturiser and tubes of fake tan than I did, but there were no lipsticks or bottles of nail varnish remover. However many women Daniel Miller had brought back to his flat, none of them seemed to have marked it as her territory. At that moment, it occurred to me that I was behaving like the worst sort of tabloid reporter. I closed the cabinet and climbed in the shower.

  When I went back to the bedroom, Daniel was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. I put on my clothes, and he produced a roll of sticking plaster for my knee. I sat on the bed, enjoying the touch of his cool, gentle fingers on my skin while he covered the cut, and the feeling of being looked after.

  I don’t want last night to be the only time I sleep with Daniel Miller, I thought. And I don’t just want to have sex with him, I want to get know him, the guy not the film star.

  ‘I really need to get home now, Daniel. How do I get to the underground from here?’ I willed him to ask if he could see me again, preferably that night.

  ‘I’m not about to let you go limping through the snow to the train station,’ Daniel said. ‘Actually, even if you hadn’t hurt your leg, I don’t think you could walk in the snow in those shoes.’

  ‘You’re right.’ I’d not get very far in my satin stilettos. And my knee, while not desperately painful, had become very stiff. I was also bare-legged, as my tights were in shreds from my fall. I got out my mobile to call a minicab.

  Daniel put his hand over mine. ‘I’ll drive you home. I’ll wait there while you get changed, and then I’ll drive you to Reardon Haye.’

  Outside, snow covered the buildings and the pavements, but the roads were clear. London seemed to have escaped the worst of the blizzards. Daniel’s car was a Ferrari, and he was obviously very pleased with it. He also assumed that a female would have no knowledge of cars, and spent most of the journey explaining what made it such a superior vehicle. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that having had a Saturday job in my mother’s garage throughout my teens, I probably knew a lot more about cars than he did. I wondered if he’d believe me if I told him how my mother had met Stephen when she’d stopped to help him change a flat tyre. I wished that Daniel would stop talking about cars and ask to see me again.

  We turned into Cassie’s road, and I told Daniel where to pull up outside her house.

  ‘You live here?’ Daniel said. ‘What a fabulous place.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not mine. It belongs to my friend Cassie. Cassie Clarke the actress.’

  ‘Princess Snowdrop,’ Daniel said. ‘Well, she certainly lives in a palace.’ He was still staring admiringly at Cassie’s house when the front door opened and Ryan came out, brandishing a garden spade. He started to clear the snow off the front steps. Daniel and I got out of the car. Ryan proceeded to watch with unabashed interest as I did my walk of shame across the slush-covered pavement.

  ‘Hey, Ryan,’ I said, ‘this is Daniel. Daniel – Ryan.’ I didn’t bother with their surnames. The Fallen Angel and Fleet Feet obviously recognised each other.

  Leaving Ryan manfully shovelling snow, Daniel and I went into the house and shut the front door. Nadia, wearing a loosely tied silk dressing gown that revealed way too much of her cleavage, was in the hallway.

  ‘Good morning, Lucy,’ she said. Then she saw who I was with, and her eyes widened with surprise.

  ‘Nadia – Daniel – Daniel – Nadia Pincher,’ I said.

  ‘Hello, Daniel,’ Nadia said. ‘It’s a real pleasure to meet you. I absolutely adored Fallen Angel. I’ve seen it five times.’

  I noticed that as well as being almost as short as my dress, Nadia’s gown was very thin, and her nipples were clearly visible through the silk. If she was aware of this, she apparently didn’t care.

  ‘Thank you, Nadia,’ Daniel said. ‘It’s always good to hear that someone likes my work.’

  Nadia put her head on one side and twirled a strand of hair round her finger. ‘I hope you don’t mind my saying, but you’re much better looking in the flesh than on screen. Don’t you agree, Lucy?’

  I stared at her. Did she actually think that flirting with Daniel Miller, when it was pretty obvious that I’d just spent the night with him, was entirely appropriate?

  Without thinking, I said, ‘I don’t know. I’ve not seen Fallen Angel.’

  ‘You’ve not seen it?’ Daniel sounded shocked.

  I felt my face grow hot. ‘Not yet.’

  Nadia couldn’t hide her astonishment. ‘I can’t believe that you’ve not seen Fallen Angel. It’s one of those films that everyone simply has to see.’ Shaking her head at yet another example of my hopeless incompetence, she continued on her way, past Daniel and myself, and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Go screw yourself, Nadia, I thought.

  ‘Have you really not seen Fallen An
gel?’ Daniel said.

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ I said. ‘Despicable of me, I know. I missed it when it came out – I’ve been meaning to buy the DVD.’ I felt terrible. I should have watched that film.

  ‘So it wasn’t my charismatic screen presence that got you into my bed?’ Daniel said.

  ‘No. Sorry. I was only after your body.’

  Daniel laughed, and immediately I felt a lot better. We walked upstairs.

  ‘Ryan? Nadia? I tried to run a bath, but there’s no water. I think the pipes are frozen –’ Cassie, loosely wrapped in a towel, came out of her bedroom on the floor above, and started to walk down the stairs. When she saw me and Daniel on the first floor landing, she gave a little shriek, and clutched the bath towel tight about her.

  ‘Cassie – Daniel,’ I said.

  ‘Hello, Cassie,’ Daniel said. ‘I can’t believe we haven’t met before. I’m sure we’re on a lot of the same guest lists.’

  ‘Er, yes, I expect we are,’ Cassie said.

  To break the awkward silence which followed this exchange, I said, ‘Are you not working today?’

  ‘I was supposed to be,’ Cassie said, ‘but most of the crew, including the director, are snowed in. Filming was cancelled.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ There was another awkward silence.

  ‘Well, er, I guess I should…’ Cassie scurried back inside her bedroom. Before we could be accosted by any more half-naked women, I dragged Daniel into my room and closed the door.

  ‘What an interesting household,’ Daniel said. ‘An international footballer and three gorgeous girls. Which one of you does he belong to?’

  ‘He’s Cassie’s footballer,’ I said. ‘They’ve been dating for a while, but they value their privacy, so keep it to yourself.’

  ‘What about the other girl? The one whose tits are scared of the dark. Is she a friend of Cassie’s like you?’

  ‘She’s Cassie’s PA.’

  ‘She and Cassie are very alike,’ Daniel said. ‘In looks, I mean. Not in their reaction to strange men seeing their tits.’

  ‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘They do look alike, but their personalities are very different.’ Cassie is my friend, I thought, and Nadia most certainly isn’t.

  Daniel watched with an appreciative glint in his eyes while I stripped off my night before clothes, but made no attempt to dissuade me from putting on my jeans, a warm jumper and my boots. Neither did he say anything that made me think he was going to ask to see me again. I managed to get him out of the house without another encounter with Nadia’s breasts, and he drove me to Reardon Haye.

  ‘Thanks for the lift, Daniel,’ I said, when we drew up outside the agency. ‘I really appreciate it.’ If he wants to see me again, I thought, he’ll say so now. If he doesn’t, then last night was just a one-night-stand.

  Daniel kissed me. It was just a brush of his lips, but it was on my mouth. Ask to see me again, I thought. Ask to see me again.

  ‘I’ll call you,’ he said.

  I’ll call you. Those words men say when they have absolutely no intention of phoning you ever.

  That’s that then, I thought. I smiled at Daniel, got out of his car, and went into Reardon Haye’s building. Riding up in the lift to the third floor, I thought about my night with the Fallen Angel. The sex had been amazing. Despite my disappointment that there wasn’t going to be a repeat performance, I wasn’t sorry that I’d slept with him. Apart from anything else, it had been a while. It was good to know that I was back in the saddle, so to speak. It was only when I was unlocking the door to Reardon Haye’s outer office that it occurred to me to wonder if shagging one of the agency’s most important clients had been a wise move for my career.

  Eleanor came into the agency soon after I did. I felt slightly sick when she stopped by my desk, but all she talked about was the party, not about anything that might have happened afterwards, before going into her own office. I reminded myself that all she, Maria and Adrian knew was that I’d shared a taxi with Daniel, they didn’t know I’d spent the night with him, even if they may have suspected it. Thank goodness, I thought, there were no paparazzi outside Mojave last night.

  Adrian arrived next. I steeled myself for his inevitable teasing, but he seemed strangely subdued. Apart from a couple of comments about the inclement weather, he sat at his computer, absorbed in whatever he had up on the screen. Last night he’d seemed perfectly sober, but I wondered if he had a hangover. An hour or so passed before Maria appeared, cursing trains that couldn’t cope with a few inches of snow.

  ‘It’s the architects-next-door’s Christmas party tonight,’ she said. ‘Shall we gatecrash like we usually do? They never seem to mind.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Adrian said. ‘I’ve been out every night this week, and my girlfriend is not very happy. If I go to another Christmas party, I’ll be sleeping on the sofa.’

  ‘Oh. Right,’ Maria said. ‘What about you, Lucy?’

  ‘I’ll come,’ I said. ‘Why not?’ It’s not like I’m doing anything else, I thought.

  Eleanor’s phone rang. Her door was open, and her voice carried clearly into the outer office.

  ‘Hello, Daniel… You enjoyed the party?… I’m so glad… Yes… Yes, she’s available… I’ll put you through.’

  Daniel. The ringing of the phone on my desk made me jump out of my chair. With a shaking hand, I picked up and held it to my ear.

  ‘Lucy, I have Daniel Miller for you,’ Eleanor said.

  I heard a click as Eleanor transferred the call. ‘Daniel?’

  ‘Hey, Lucy. I said I’d call.’

  ‘You did,’ I said. I just didn’t believe you, I thought.

  ‘I’ve booked us a table at Quattro’s for nine tonight – I hope you like Italian food. Can you meet me there?’

  Can I meet Daniel Miller at one of London’s most fashionable restaurants? ‘Yes, I like Italian food. Yes, I can meet you there.’

  ‘I’ll see you later, then. Bye, lovely.’

  ‘See you later.’

  Daniel rang off. My hand was still shaking as I put down my phone.

  ‘So, Lucy, am I right in thinking that you won’t be coming to the architects’ party?’ Maria asked.

  ‘Yes. I mean, no. I won’t be coming to the party. Sorry.’ I felt bad leaving Maria to gatecrash the party on her own. For about two seconds. My mother, who has a very low opinion of women who cancel on their female friends the moment a man asks them out, would have been horrified.

  From behind his computer screen, Adrian said, ‘Sounds like the goalkeeper is out of luck again tonight.’

  CHAPTER 9

  Cassie hung the tiny wooden reindeer on the six-foot high Christmas tree that almost obscured the living room window.

  ‘Now for the star,’ she said. ‘Can you reach?’

  ‘Just about.’ Balancing on tip-toe, I placed the silver star on the topmost branch, and stepped back to admire Cassie’s and my handiwork. The dark green tree, festooned with the painted wooden ornaments that we’d found just a few days ago in the Christmas market on the South Bank, looked wonderful, and infused the living room with the scent of pine. A Christmas garland hung over the fireplace, and sprays of holly with bright red berries decorated the mirror and picture frames. Cassie’s music system was playing carols.

  Cassie went to the dimmer switch, turned the main light down low, and switched on the coloured lights we’d strung around the tree amongst the pine needles. We both gasped with delight as the tree lit up.

  ‘Now it’s really starting to feel like Christmas,’ I said. ‘Ooh, I do love this time of year.’ I gazed at the tree, and my mind drifted back to Christmas Eve when I was five years old. While my mother was reading me a bedtime story, Stephen had gone across the road to Cassie’s to deliver her present. I’d been so excited when he’d returned with Cassie herself, and told me that she would be spending Christmas Day and Boxing Day with us. My parents obviously hadn’t known that she would be joining us – not until Stephen had discovere
d that in her parents’ house, Christmas was no different to any other day of the year – but they’d managed to improvise gifts for their unexpected guest (sweets, paints, a miniature doll very like the dolls in my new dolls house), and had made the day as magical for her as it always was for Dylan and me.

  Breaking in on my thoughts, Cassie said, ‘I’m pleased Ryan wants me there with him and his parents and brothers at Christmas, really I am, but I’m so nervous about meeting them all.’

  ‘Are you?’ I said. ‘But why?’

  ‘What if they don’t like me?’ Cassie said. ‘Ryan says they make a big deal out of Christmas. I don’t want to ruin it for them.’

  I tried, and failed, to imagine how Cassie’s presence could have any adverse effects on the Fleet family’s seasonal celebrations.

  ‘Well, as long as you don’t neck all the Bucks Fizz and fall asleep face down in the brandy butter,’ I said, ‘I expect you’ll get along with them just fine.’

  Cassie’s smile was a little tight, but she did smile. She said, ‘Is Daniel visiting his family for Christmas?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘he’s spending Christmas and New Year in Switzerland, skiing with friends.’

  ‘So you won’t be seeing much of him over the holidays?’

  ‘He said he’d call me when he gets back.’ This time, I was reasonably sure he would call me. I’d watched him key my mobile number into his phone. And he’d given me his number to put in mine.

  ‘Just so that I know I’ve got this clear,’ Cassie said. ‘Are you with Daniel Miller? Are you an item?’

  ‘I – I’m not sure…’

  When I’d arrived at Quattro’s for my second date with Daniel, the restaurant had been packed. I was aware of sidelong glances from the other diners as I joined him for a drink in the bar, and when we were shown to our table, but Quattro’s affluent clientele were too sophisticated to stare at us for any length of time. The wine waiter had mentioned that he’d enjoyed Fallen Angel immensely, and the maitre d’ had asked us if we were happy with the food rather more times than I imagined was usual, but generally we were left alone like any twenty-something couple on a date. After our meal, Daniel’s stellar status ensuring that the doorman hailed us a cab, we’d gone back to his flat. We’d had sex that night, and again in the morning, and I’d almost been late for work.