The Party Starts at Midnight

by Lucy King

  Taking a certain amount of comfort from that, Leo felt the churning in his stomach subside and the mess in his head dissolve, and walked through the double doors that led into the room that was being used to serve drinks and canapés.

  Inwardly wincing at the noise level—which had to be ten times anything he’d ever encountered on a building site—he accepted a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, and set about draining it in the hope it might obliterate the memory of that humiliating half an hour in his bedroom.

  ‘Good of you to make it,’ came a dry, amused voice from his left that had him jolting mid-swallow and nearly choking on the champagne.

  ‘Thanks for that,’ said Leo, once he’d recovered from both the champagne going down the wrong way and his brother’s efforts to rectify the situation, which had involved a lot of back thumping and drink spillage.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Jake, not sounding in the slightest bit apologetic. ‘So what kept you?’

  ‘Jet lag,’ he muttered. ‘Knocked me for six.’

  ‘Ah. I did wonder. I thought you might be deliberately avoiding the party.’

  ‘Why would I do that?’

  ‘You hate them.’

  That was true, but, ‘This isn’t a party,’ he said. ‘This is work.’

  ‘Try telling that to our guests.’

  Leo swapped his empty glass for a full one, took a long gulp and forced himself to focus. ‘How’s it going?’ he asked, his gaze drifting over the throngs of people all drinking and eating and full of the Christmas spirit he found so hard to muster up while he identified staff members, clients, architects, planning officers and financiers among the guests, and resolutely did not look for a certain slim, strawberry-blonde event organiser.

  ‘Pretty good so far.’ Jake helped himself to something that looked like a mini Yorkshire pudding. ‘Thanks to Abby,’ he added. ‘Whom you’ve met, I gather.’

  ‘I have,’ said Leo, annoyed with himself for being tempted to seek her out when she shouldn’t even be crossing his mind, and then thinking that actually ‘met’ wasn’t quite the word he’d have used. Insulted. That was probably an appropriate one. Or offended. That would work equally well.

  ‘What did you think of her?’

  He thought she was gorgeous. Sexy. Very very beddable. ‘I didn’t think anything of her, particularly,’ he said, his voice not betraying a hint of the lie. ‘Why?’

  Jake wiped his fingers on a napkin and grinned. ‘Just wondering.’

  ‘What do you think of her?’ asked Leo before he could stop himself.

  ‘She’s great. Extremely capable. Has a knack for knowing exactly what’s needed, a talent for solving problems with the minimum amount of fuss and a rare ability to stick to the budget. Plus, she’s single and incredibly hot.’

  Leo felt his jaw tighten for a second but channelled nonchalance he really didn’t feel and said, as if he couldn’t give a toss, ‘Is she? I hadn’t noticed.’ Which was another lie because like hell he hadn’t.

  Jake grinned. ‘No, well, you wouldn’t, would you? A dozen naked women could parade right in front of you and you’d be oblivious.’

  ‘I prefer subtlety.’

  ‘As I don’t, I might ask her for a dance later.’

  ‘Go for it,’ said Leo, just about managing not to grit his teeth.

  ‘Although I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if she said no.’

  ‘Why?’

  When Jake didn’t immediately answer Leo glanced over to find his brother looking at him questioningly. ‘What the hell happened up there?’

  Hmm.

  Leo picked up a tiny blini topped with sour cream and caviar and ate it slowly, largely to give himself time to work out how he was going to respond, because wasn’t that the question of the night? And one to which there was no answer, because for one thing he still hadn’t entirely worked it out, and for another, hell would freeze over before he shared the details of the misunderstanding that made him look like such a complete and utter fool with anyone, least of all his no-holds-barred brother.

  ‘What do you mean, what happened up there?’ he said evenly, deciding that bluffing was the only way through this. ‘Nothing happened up there.’

  ‘Right,’ said Jake, clearly not believing him for a second. ‘Then why did Abby come down looking like thunder?’

  Leo shrugged and kept his eyes on the party. ‘No idea,’ he said and took another gulp of champagne.

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Why would you think I did anything?’

  ‘It’s that time of year. Makes you morose. Edgy. Unpredictable. But more than that, she was fine when I asked her to go up and find you.’

  ‘Maybe she had a call. Maybe something’s gone wrong with the catering. Who knows?’

  There was a pause and Leo glanced at Jake to find him looking back shrewdly. ‘I think I might have some idea.’

  Leo went still, his fingers tightening around the stem of his glass as his pulse sped up. Had Abby said something? Given Jake a minute-by-minute account of what had happened? And were there perhaps ramifications to what he’d done? Hadn’t people been sued for less?

  ‘Really?’ he said, hedging his bets but bracing himself for the worst.

  Jake nodded. ‘Yup. She’s a perfectionist. She doesn’t like things to go wrong.’

  ‘No, well, what event planner would?’

  ‘So perhaps finding you passed out after a drinking session piqued her sense of responsibility and orderliness.’

  Leo frowned and wondered if his brain was still on go-slow because what on earth was Jake on about? What drinking session? ‘Passed out?’ he echoed.

  ‘That was her guess.’

  ‘It was the wrong one.’

  ‘You should have mentioned the jet lag,’ said Jake dryly. ‘Then she might have been a little less disapproving.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ said Leo, wishing that his state of sobriety had been the only misunderstanding of the night.

  ‘Why, what else happened?’ said Jake, and Leo mentally kicked himself for forgetting that while his brother sometimes came across as being so laid-back he was horizontal, he also had a sky-high IQ and an irritating talent for zooming in on things that one might prefer to be glossed over.

  ‘There may have been a slight misunderstanding,’ he said, resigning himself to the knowledge that he was going to have to divulge at least something of the events of half an hour ago because Jake could be surprisingly tenacious when the mood took him.

  ‘What kind of misunderstanding?’

  ‘Nothing important, and it was cleared up.’

  ‘Did it involve me?’

  ‘Why would you think it involved you?’

  ‘Because when she was telling me you were on your way down she kept giving me the filthiest looks. It made me want to ditch the champagne and break into the bottle of single malt I was planning on giving to you.’

  Leo went still. ‘Single malt?’

  ‘To drown your woes and cheer you up. The present I was talking about to get you through Christmas.’

  ‘That was the present?’

  ‘Of course. What else would I have meant?’

  What else indeed? Damn. He really had got things wrong. Badly badly wrong.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  Leo snapped back to find his brother watching him closely. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘You’ve gone pale and you’re frowning.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ Or he would be once he’d come to terms with the realisation that for the first time in years he’d abandoned logic, reason and self-control, and had basically totally lost his mind.

  What the hell was wrong with him this evening? he wondered for what felt like the hundredth time. Was it really m
erely jet lag and the time of year? Or was he coming down with something? Something he’d picked up on his travels maybe?

  More to the point, why was Jake looking at him like that?

  ‘Oh, my God,’ said his brother, his jaw dropping as his expression turned to one of disbelief. ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘I didn’t what?’

  ‘Think Abby was the present.’

  ‘Of course not,’ said Leo with a short laugh that didn’t sound as dismissive as he’d intended.

  ‘You did.’

  ‘Don’t be absurd.’

  ‘I’m not the one being absurd. You did. You really did. And you claim to prefer subtlety.’

  As this was a conversation he really didn’t want to be having Leo ran a hand along his jaw, shifted his attention to the party going on in front of them and, in a probably pointless effort at distraction, said, ‘Did I mention how great this place looks? Excellent tree.’

  ‘Forget the decorations,’ said Jake, sounding astounded, incredulous and appalled. ‘How on earth could you think I’d ever do something like that?’

  Leo arched an eyebrow and swung his gaze back to his brother. ‘Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?’

  Jake looked as stunned as if he’d thumped him in the stomach. ‘What?’

  ‘Remember the stripper?’

  ‘That was twelve years ago,’ said his brother, after a moment. ‘For a mate for his eighteenth birthday, and he’d specifically requested it. Don’t you think I might have matured a bit since then?’ He ran his hands through his hair and then shook his head in disbelief. ‘Jeez,’ he said, blowing out a breath. ‘Thanks for that. I think I might be seriously offended.’

  ‘I think Abby might have been too.’

  There was another stunned silence as Jake stared at him apparently briefly lost for words. ‘You confronted her with it?’

  Leo shrugged, keeping the cringing very firmly on the inside. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight. Half asleep, in fact. Disorientated. Like I said, jet lag.’

  ‘Not an excuse.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘How did she take it?’

  ‘How do you think?’

  Jake, who wasn’t nearly as good as Leo at containing his emotions, winced. ‘Did you apologise?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And explain?’

  ‘I didn’t get the chance. She didn’t stick around.’

  Now he thought about it, he hadn’t had a woman flee from him quite so fast since the excruciating afternoon exactly five years ago when Lisa had raced back down the aisle the wrong way, leaving him standing, jilted, at the altar. But he could hardly blame Abby. He’d probably been lucky to get away without a slap to the face.

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ said Jake.

  ‘Neither am I.’

  There was a moment’s silence during which Jake, presumably struggling to come to terms with what had happened, gave his head a couple more shakes in disbelief. Then he sobered, fixed Leo with a look that spoke volumes and said, ‘So do you think it’s going to be a problem?’

  ‘Not if I can help it,’ said Leo darkly as a pair of doors swung open and dinner was announced.

  CHAPTER THREE

  FOR SOMEONE WHO didn’t merit a moment’s thought, Leo was remarkably difficult to ignore.

  It wasn’t as if Abby had had time to daydream about him or what had happened up there in his apartment. She’d had more than enough to keep her occupied: timings to keep track of; a supper of turkey with all the trimmings followed by Christmas-pudding-flavoured ice cream to get out; the blowing of the lights on the tree that had required a couple of tricky bulb replacements; a DJ who’d spent half an hour grumbling about the inadequate positioning of his speakers and had taken ten minutes to mollify.

  Yet even though their paths hadn’t crossed, if someone asked her where he was she’d be able to tell them.

  Right now, for example, she was taking a moment to watch the heaving dance floor, and she didn’t need to look around to know that he was lounging at a table on the far side of the room, nursing a glass of whisky and looking as if he’d rather be anywhere than here, despite being the sole focus of an attractive brunette.

  It was strange. And baffling, because yes, at well over six feet tall he stood head and shoulders above almost everyone, and yes, he had that presence that had had such a troubling effect on her when she’d been within a couple of feet of him, but so what? She’d met many tall, imposing men in her line of work and she’d never had a problem with not thinking about them.

  But with Leo it was as if she were a satnav and he were her destination. When she was out of his orbit she felt oddly disorientated and a bit lost, and when she did spot him she instantly felt compelled to make her way over to him.

  The awareness was weird. Confusing. And for someone who liked to be in control of the situation at all times, not a little disconcerting. All the more so because fancying a man who was a deplorable jerk—no matter how good-looking he was—was simply downright perverse.

  But that was another thing that had been perplexing her as the evening had ticked along. If he was so tactlessly awful, wouldn’t people have been avoiding him all night? There would have been a sycophantic few, of course, but this was a party where the guests were out to enjoy themselves and she’d have thought the majority would have steered well clear.

  Yet all night he’d been surrounded. She’d seen him smiling and chatting, albeit with a faintly cool, aloof air about him, and there was no doubt that people seemed to actually like him. They’d sought him out, and then hung around. Especially the women. They still were, even now, when everything about him indicated he’d rather be left alone.

  All of which made her think that while she was pretty sure she hadn’t misheard or misinterpreted his words or the outrageous way he’d checked her out, maybe he wasn’t the man she’d assumed him to be, and therefore perhaps she was as guilty of leaping to the wrong conclusion as he was.

  Maybe he was just one of those people who took a while to wake up properly and had been a bit disorientated. Maybe there was some kind of explanation for what had happened and maybe she should have stuck around and asked for it instead of overreacting and fleeing the scene as if the hounds of hell were at her heels.

  Not that it mattered. Maybes were all very well but the time for clarification was long gone. And she could find him as devastatingly attractive as she liked but nothing would ever come of it, would it?

  The guy was way out of her league, and, even if he weren’t, even if he weren’t a client, he’d made it spectacularly clear that he wasn’t interested in her, so there was no point secretly wondering what might have happened if she’d thrown caution to the wind and actually kissed him when she had the chance. No point at all, and it was therefore annoying in the extreme that the idea of it had been—and still was—buzzing around her head like some kind of manic bee.

  Abby rubbed at her temples as if that might somehow miraculously make the thought go away, but it didn’t. Perhaps actually getting on with the long list of things that still needed doing instead of dreamily and wistfully watching the dance floor, and very definitely not Leo, would.

  Pulling herself together and focusing on that mental list, she spun on her heel. And went slap bang into a tall male figure.

  ‘Oof,’ she mumbled as she recoiled off a hard chest, and a pair of hands gripped her shoulders.

  ‘Steady on.’

  Taking a moment to catch her breath as the hands released her, she stepped back and looked up into the face of Jake. And dammit if she wasn’t somehow disappointed.

  Dismissing that as completely nuts, instead Abby ran a quick check of her heart rate and her body temperature, and briefly marvelled at how Jake, in contrast to his brother, should have so little effect o
n her when he was just as imposing and just as good-looking. Although he did lack the dark, brooding—and apparently irresistible—thing Leo had going on.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said with a smart professional smile and a quick mental reminder that she wasn’t to think about Leo any further.

  ‘No problem.’

  ‘I was just heading to the kitchens.’

  ‘And I was just coming to see if you wanted to dance.’

  Abby blinked. ‘Dance?’ she echoed, faintly taken aback because she couldn’t think of a time when the line between being an employee and a guest had ever blurred before.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Jake with a grin. ‘You know, that thing where you shuffle your feet around and move, generally in time to music.’

  His smile was contagious and she had to force herself not to automatically reciprocate it because, despite all the great things she’d thought he was, he was also very possibly a man who procured ‘fun’ for his brother. ‘Thank you,’ she said politely, ‘but I’m working.’

  Jake rocked on his heels and studied her. ‘I heard about what happened earlier.’

  Abby instinctively tensed but she continued to look up at him calmly. ‘Did you?’

  ‘You do realise that it had nothing to do with me, don’t you?’

  ‘Didn’t it?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Then what did it have to do with?’

  Jake grinned and shrugged. ‘I have absolutely no idea. It’s generally impossible to work out what’s going on in the head of that brother of mine. I’m not nearly as complicated.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. And I’m certainly not interested in getting involved with his sex life.’ He shuddered theatrically, then looked at her assessingly for a while, as if weighing up his chances and then coming to the conclusion it was worth a gamble. ‘So how about that dance?’