Page 45 of Worth Every Penny

And then I make my own dash for freedom, flip-flopping down the corridor, into the lift, and down to the lobby. Nothing says walk-of-shame like sequins, hot pants and hotel slippers. The plastic soles squeak as I walk across the marble floor.

I’m halfway to the exit, heart-thumping like I’m escaping a million dollar heist, when—

“Miss Lansen?”

I freeze. A man approaches, dressed in a black suit and flat cap. I’ve never seen him before. Am I about to be arrested for stealing the hotel slippers? They’re free, aren’t they?

I shift awkwardly on the spot and the slippers give an almighty squeal. The man’s gaze dips to my feet, his brow lightly furrowing.Damn it.

“Yes?” I ask, striving for casual.

“Your car is outside,” he announces.

“My car?”

“Mr. Hawkston said to expect you. Gave me your address. I’m here to take you home.”

Fuck. My. Life.

I unlock the front door of the flat to find Elly and Marie staring at each other over their coffees, seated on either side of the kitchen table.

They both turn to look at me.

“No guesses where you spent the night,” Marie says, looking pointedly at the hotel slippers.

“What happened?” Elly asks with a smirk. “Everyone saw Nico punch Michael Drayton in the face. And carry you up the stairs.”

“Lucky it was a private party,” Marie adds. “Otherwise you’d have been all over the tabloids this morning.”

“Oh, my God,” I mutter, as the last futile hope that I’d dreamt the whole thing collapses around me like a dry sandcastle. “Why didn’t you do something?”

“I would have, but I was so drunk I didn’t even know I had hands,” Elly explains, waving said hands like they’re new discoveries. “Sorry. Besides, Nico looked like he had it under control.”

“So… what happened?” Marie asks, and the two of them sit there staring at me, looking hungover as hell, waiting for an explanation. I can’t tell them all the details. Even if I wanted to, I’m not sure I’d be able to form the words. Embarrassment would be the glue that would stick my lips together and seal my throat.

I settle for the least of my offences. “I tried to kiss him.”

“I thought you hated him?” Marie reminds me.

Elly perks up. “She doesn’t hate him. She just thinks she hates him because she’s too frightened to admit she’s still obsessed with him.” Elly fixes her attention on me. “Did he kiss you back?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Aww. Babes. I’d have kissed you back.”

I roll my eyes, which makes the sockets ache. “Thanks.”

“Where did Nico Hawkston come from anyway?” Marie says. “One minute you were getting it on with Michael, the next Nico appears like a fucking tornado of masculinity, determined to raze the place to the ground.” She tilts her head to one side, pouting her lower lip. “It was kinda hot.”

My head pounds as I struggle to comprehend what she’s saying. I have no idea where Nico came from last night. He was suddenly there, pushing people around and dragging me away.

“He owns the club,” I explain.

“Ah,” muses Marie. “He looked pretty chummy with Amy Moritz too. I saw her climb right over the table to give him a hug.”

I drop my head in my hands. “I want to crawl under my bed and die.”

“Except you can’t,” Marie says. “Because it’s your mum’s summer drinks party tomorrow.” Marie points to the calendar on the wall behind her where I’ve scrawled ‘MUM PARTY’ in red pen. I groan. I’d forgotten about the glamorous party she throws at the Surrey house every year. If I miss it, she’ll never let me forget it. Ihaveto go. “Shit.”

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