Page 148 of Worth Every Penny

Marie slaps Elly’s hand away and hauls us both into a hug. “I’m just pissed because if you move in with him, I’ll be left here with Elly and all her sweetness will rot my brain like a decaying tooth.”

“Oi,” Elly cries.

Marie steps back, bites her bottom lip and gives a half shake of the head as if she still thinks I’m crazy. “Good luck. I hope it works.”

It’s early evening when I find myself outside the Hawkston Building. It’s taller than the London office, rising over my head like a glass-fronted obelisk. Thank God Jack didn’t refuse me the last minute holiday I requested. I told him he was going to have to take Mum away without me, because I had somewhere else I needed to be. He didn’t ask where, but I suspect he had an idea.

It’s a warm Friday night, and the street is busy. I’m standing on the pavement outside, sweating in jeans and a t-shirt, suitcase at my feet. If Nico’s here, he’ll still be working. He’salwaysworking. But if I’ve timed it right, then he’ll be here and everyone else will have left already.

My heart is beating so hard, I can feel my pulse in the soles of my feet. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. It’s okay though—like I told my friends, if it doesn’t work out, all I’ve really lost is the cash I’ve spent on tickets and accommodation.

The thought sinks heavily through my chest. It’s a lie, obviously. I wouldn’t be here if there weren’t more at stake than a few hundred quid.

I take a deep breath, tighten my hold on my suitcase and take a step forward. It rolls noisily beside me until something catches my eye.

On the other side of the glass doors is Nico, dressed in black tie.

I freeze in the middle of the pavement, people dodging around me and cursing.

He’s with someone. The door opens and they step out.

My heart pounds so forcibly it lands in my gullet, blocking my airway.

It’s Erica Lefroy, dressed in a deep mauve, full length evening gown. She’s beautiful; distractingly so. Better in the flesh than any photo I’ve ever seen of her. Nico says something, and she laughs, turns to him, and fixes his bow tie.

My heart disintegrates in a wave of pain, and my lungs collapse under the force. I choke on the emotion, unable to breathe. I need to get out of here, right now.

But I can’t move. I watch as she lets her hands fall and taps her palms against the lapels of his dinner jacket, letting them rest there for an extended moment. Then she kisses his cheek. She presses her lips to his skin for barely a second, but it kills something inside me.

A car pulls up alongside the pavement, the windows dark and the hubcaps sparkling like diamonds. The body of the car is highly polished, too.

A driver gets out and opens the back door.

Erica’s still talking, laughing. And Nico… he’s smiling, brushing his hair off his forehead as they talk.Are they standing suspiciously close together?It looks that way, and one of her hands is still fingering the lapel of his jacket as if she doesn’t want to let him go.

A small crowd has gathered; commuters stopping to stare. A few people have their mobiles out, trying to get a quick picture of Erica Lefroy and the unbelievably handsome man she’s with.

I’m no better, standing here like a groupie. A fan. An outsider witnessing a life that will never be theirs. And it looks like a fairytale.

He’s moved on. And with one of the most beautiful women in the world. She’d probably never give up on him. There’s no way Erica Lefroy is a quitter. You don’t get to be one of the world’s top models by giving up on stuff.

Fuckity-fuck.

As I stare, there’s a shift in Nico’s body; a tensing or tightening that would be imperceptible if I wasn’t already so attuned to his form. There’s a split second where his expression alters, his attention withdrawing from the woman in front of him, moving inward to someothersense. Awareness sparks within me—he knows I’m here and even before he turns in my direction, I know he’s going to.

Shit.

I want to die. I want the ground to swallow me up.

His eyes lock onto mine faster than a cat could pounce, and there’s no way I can move in time to avoid it. His gaze sears my skin and solders my feet to the ground. Erica notices something’s up too, and her gaze follows his. Now two pairs of beautiful eyes pin me to the spot.

Every fibre of my being is quivering with the urge, theneed, to run. But I can’t run, because I can’t feel my limbs.

Nico’s still staring at me, his mouth loose and slightly open, like he suspects he’s imagined me. Erica looks from me to him in confusion.

This was not how I imagined our reunion would go. All the scenarios I was planning out in my head on the flight over—that he would lift me in his arms and kiss me or some variation of—are burning up like Bread Street in the Great Fire of fucking London. Reality is crashing down around me, crushing my bones and smothering my soul.

Nico’s the first to move, with a long, purposeful stride in my direction. His eyes are still on me when my fight-or-flight reflex kicks in. I fix my grip on the handle of my suitcase and trundle it in the opposite direction.

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