Lindsey Kelk Girl Collection: About a Girl, What a Girl Wants. Lindsey Kelk
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Conveniently, I had completely forgotten it while I was having all of the sex with him, but now it was a very clear memory, shining brightly in the front of my mind. And it did not fill me with joy.
‘Is Nick coming to the meeting?’ I asked as casually as humanly possible.
‘In theory.’ Paige’s reply was full of equally feigned nonchalance. ‘I sent him a text. He wasn’t answering when I knocked on his door. I hope he isn’t dead.’
‘Ha, me too,’ I agreed, not entirely sure I meant it. ‘So, tell me how you know him?’
‘Oh, we’ve worked together a few times over the years – different mags and stuff, you know? He’s always been a bit of a flirt, I’ve always been a bit of a flirt. Nothing serious, though – he’s just not that kind of bloke.’
‘What kind of bloke?’ I scrubbed myself red-raw with coconut-scented shower gel to get every last trace of him off me in case I didn’t like her answer.
‘The decent kind,’ she laughed. ‘The kind that takes you out for dinner and says nice things and texts in between shags.’
‘So you’ve slept with him?’ I poked my head out of the shower and grabbed a towel, suddenly feeling very sick. This must have been exactly how Vanessa didn’t feel when she realized we’d both had sex with Charlie.
‘Oh no.’ She flapped her empty hand around her face. ‘Not for the want of trying. I don’t know – I really like him, but he doesn’t do girlfriends. Everyone knows that and I’m not one of those girls who shags the guy she likes, even though he’s a tosspot, and hopes he’ll eventually realize how great she is. That’s just asking for trouble.’
‘What if it’s a guy you don’t like?’
‘Entirely different matter.’ Paige stood up and ventured back into the bedroom. ‘Get dressed, we’re going to be late. We can discuss my plan to make an honest man out of Nick Miller later.’
‘Can’t wait,’ I said weakly.
Bleurgh.
I could hardly believe how fresh-faced Kekipi looked when we got to the main house. Even though I hadn’t been that drunk and had managed to grab at least six hours of decent sleep, I was fully aware that I looked like shit, whereas he and Paige looked like they were fresh out of the spa. And I never looked like shit because I always got a full eight hours’ and I never spent Tuesday nights drinking cocktails with fifteen gay strangers and banging a bad man. Either someone was going to have to teach me how to use concealer or I was going to have to go back to my old life sooner than anticipated.
‘Can I get you anything else to eat?’ Kekipi asked, the very model of professionalism, while gesturing towards the spread already laid out on the table. ‘Mr Bennett will be with you momentarily.’
‘I’d take your arm off for a fried-egg butty,’ Paige muttered, turning her head away from all the sushi on the table. However fresh she looked, she clearly didn’t feel it. ‘Fish? For breakfast?’
‘Mr Bennett’s request,’ Kekipi explained. ‘One fried-egg butty. And Miss Vanessa?’
‘Oh, that’s me,’ I said, just slightly too loudly. Paige quirked an eyebrow and shook her head. ‘I’m fine, actually. Thank you.’
As soon as he was gone, I grabbed a plate and piled it high with tiny sugary-looking pastries. I needed carbs and I needed them now.
‘Before we start, are you actually going to be able to pull this off?’ Paige asked, looking me dead in the eye. ‘This whole Vanessa thing?’
‘Yes?’ I didn’t even sound like I believed myself. ‘It’s fine.’
‘Good,’ she replied. ‘Because if you fuck up now I know, we’ll both be in for it.’
‘Really, though …’ I choked down a mini Danish and shrugged. ‘What would happen if someone found out? How bad could it be?’
‘Bennett would probably pull the interview altogether. I’d get fired. The magazine would probably sue Vanessa’s agent. They’d definitely sue you.’ she started to tick off the options on her fingers. ‘Bennett could sue us. The possibilities are endless. They mostly involve people getting sued.’
I lowered the pastry back down to the plate.
‘I really hadn’t thought past Vanessa kicking the shit out of me,’ I whispered. ‘Bloody hell.’
‘And that’s assuming the photos are good enough to use in the first place,’ Paige smiled sweetly. ‘If they aren’t, assume all of that and more.’
‘Good photos.’ I stared at my feet. ‘Gotcha.’
‘Amazing photos,’ Paige corrected. ‘The best photos anyone has ever seen.’
‘But Vanessa isn’t actually a very good photographer,’ I pointed out. ‘Surely adequate photos would be enough.’
‘The best photos anyone has ever seen,’ Paige repeated, slowly this time. ‘Or you won’t need to worry about Vanessa kicking your arse because I’ll have already handed it to you on a plate, yeah?’
‘On a plate.’ I nodded to show I understood. ‘Best photos ever.’
‘Glad we’re clear,’ she replied. ‘Ah, Mr Miller, at last.’
I hadn’t expected to have a physical reaction to seeing Nick, but as he strode up the path, all grumpy face and Wayfarers, I wanted to get up from the table and dive into the sea. His pale blue shirt was creased to hell and his khaki shorts looked like they weren’t buttoned up properly at the fly. He did not look like a man who had enjoyed a good night’s sleep in a luxury villa in Hawaii. He looked like a man who had spent the night shagging someone rotten and then spent a couple of hours tossing and turning until the sun came up.
Interesting.
He leaned across the table, right in front of me, just to make me jump. Without a word he grabbed the coffee pot, poured a full mug then threw in several sugar lumps in complete silence. Paige glanced at me, trying not to smile, as he took the seat at the far end of the table as far away from the two of us as possible.
‘Where’s Bennett?’ he asked after two long sips of coffee. ‘He’s late.’
‘So are you, sunshine,’ Paige replied. ‘Bad night?’
Even though he didn’t take off his sunglasses, I knew he was staring straight at me.
‘I’ve had better,’ he said with an entirely straight face, while I coloured up from head to toe. ‘I’ve had worse.’
‘Looks like you went through the wringer.’ I was determined not to let him win. ‘Sometimes it’s best just to let sleep come naturally. When you try too hard, you just end up frustrated.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m not frustrated,’ he replied swiftly. ‘But you don’t look so clever yourself. Maybe you could do with trying a bit harder.’
‘Now, now, children,’ Paige intervened, entirely oblivious to the extreme level of bitchy subtext flying across the table. ‘Let’s not have fisticuffs. We need to sort out this Bennett sitch, and I don’t really want to have to do that on my own. Can we kiss and make up?’
Nick turned up one corner of his mouth and nodded. ‘I’m game if you are, Vanessa.’
‘I think she means figuratively,’ I said, adding cream to my coffee. ‘I’m a professional.’
‘Really?’ He rested his elbows on the table and pushed his glasses up over his eyebrows. ‘I probably owe you some money then.’
Before Paige had time to question Nick’s jibe or my look of outrage, the glass door to the house slid open to reveal a tall, slender man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts. Despite his ensemble, I knew it was Mr