Page 17 of Hit For Six
‘You’re… very welcome. But let me explain myself, too. Maybe I feel a little bit responsible for… stuff. I might not have personally designed the dress but my actions seriously inconvenienced you last Friday. And I also think you need to remember that there are some deeply unhappy individuals out there who will project their bullshit onto you/me/us to deflect from their painful truths. People like Tim. Don’t let them win.’
Lola looked up at the umbrella covering her head as if searching for a comeback. Had he worked out what Julian had done? No, that was impossible. Only a woman would do the math. She continued to stare at the dark canopy of her umbrella, oblivious to Monty’s discomfort in the downpour. She was a bitch. The guy was soaked. It was a wonder his clothes were still attached to him. But he could style it out. Meanwhile, there was no getting around the fact that they were two different people. It would be foolish to think they could bend the rules. She’d had a taste of what it would be like to call him hers on a seductively regular basis, should she be society enough. That would have to do.
‘The bus stop is around the corner. I need to go.’
Lola never took public transport around the city. Bath was compact and she preferred to walk. She knew there was a stop for a glut of bus lines around the corner outside the Guildhall, though, so she led Monty on a pointless trek, still refusing to relinquish sole use of her umbrella.
‘Great,’ he responded cheerfully as if it was a beautiful sunny day, picking up his pace behind her. ‘I’ll wait with you.’
Part of Lola really was flattered that he’d go to such lengths given his sodden state but the other part of her was pissed off. Now she’d have to waste money on a ticket to who knew where and all she wanted to do was bury herself in her duvet, bearing in mind she had the thrill of the office to contend with tomorrow. Fortunately, she and Monty only had to make smalltalk for a couple of minutes before a bus arrived emblazoned with the word ‘University’. Another thing that would just have to do.
‘This is me!’ she exclaimed a little too brightly.
‘See you around, then… unless…’
‘See you around,’ Lola replied affirmatively but it took everything in her power not to look back and reel off her number to Monty.
She got on the bus and paid for a single fare to the university. She would hop off after a couple of stops and walk the extra distance home. It was no big deal. As long as she didn’t bump into Monty again. Hmm, that was a point. Bath was teeming with luxury apartments and gorgeous townhouses in all directions. Who knew if he’d go through with the cricket meal now the weather had turned. Maybe she’d go to the end of the line, then, before she jumped off into a fittingly muddy puddle and finished the day in style.
There was only one free seat as Lola sauntered down the aisle. Typically it was on Monty’s side of the road, where he stood martyr-like on the pavement getting further drenched. Why was she wiping down the misty glass with her cardigan cuff, pressing her hand against the window so she could wave goodbye to him? Had she suddenly discovered she was in possession of manners? Monty raised his hand back, his face crestfallen as the bus pulled away.
Lola couldn’t bear being deceitful when she knew his intentions were good and tears pricked at her eyes, but he couldn’t possibly know where she lived. He was the sort toown an impressive portfolio of homes already, and here she was renting a room in a tiny flat courtesy of a cat sitting deal. Her plod along life was a joke in comparison to his high-flyingcareersand successes. She didn’t need to feel like even more of a charity case. Orlando had snubbed her repeatedly and she still felt battered and bruised, especially since he’d been so rude about her parents.
Maybe her fate had been mapped out from birth? She mulled this over as the bus crossed the river, doubling back on her original route. The name Lola derived from the Spanish name Dolores. It meant sorrow. She had no idea why her parents had chosen it. It was hardly the most inspiring of futures for a baby girl. She supposed they were trying to be unique. Gail and Greg were bread and butter English names. Her mum had probably wanted to spice things up when she wrote out the Christmas cards. But after hunting high and low, Lola had discovered that her name did have a modern day meaning, too. She’d no idea who’d been given carte blanche to change it– likely another disgruntled Lola– but nowadays it also signified a strong, independent woman who rose above life’s challenges. Which was extremely judicious and just about the only thing keeping her going right now.
What did the name Monty mean? Mountain, Lola guessed. What about if he went by Montgomery? Sensing that he probably did, given his plummy accent, Lola pulled her phone out of her bag and began to google.
Oh,oh, no:Man power.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Monty
The bus pulledaway and despite the heartwarming glimmer of hope that Monty now knew Lola lived in the same city, he felt like he’d lost a part of his soul. Going back to his thoughts on Friday night, he’d been reduced to a reckless bloody Prince Charming again.
Yes, he’d narrowed down the radius for his fairytale door knocks, since Lola lived somewhere in the vicinity of a bus stop on the University route, but he wasn’t holding a glass slipper as an excuse to cold call on Bath’s residents. There was nothing to show for tonight. Just the searing hot memory of that kiss and Lola’s insistence that they were incompatible. For a moment it had looked as if she’d wanted to recreate their making out session there by the weir, but Monty wouldn’t dream of pouncing on her. Not in real life. Even if Lola had no idea how much he craved a relationship with someone as authentic and intriguing as she was. There was no point plying her with the opposites attract line. Her mind was made up. His wealth and class were a trap. Neither had brought him happiness.
He skulked back to The Bubble Bath as the rain continued to lash down. Monty looked more like he’d been standing under a power shower than lounging around a bathtub sipping cocktails, but something about his disturbing predicament, and the way that the passersby were giving him the once over for his underprepared choice of attire, made him stop in his tracks. Then the realisation hit him.
He needed to get back to his apartment. Sod the meal. He needed to get back to the full-length mirror in his bedroom(and not just to indulge in self-pity over his sorry state). Concluding the discussion with London would have to wait. As would Monty’s day’s holiday. It was crucial that he attended the company meeting tomorrow. Clear-headed and ready to do battle.
He finally snapped out of his trance as the rain slowed to a drizzle, and made his way to the cocktail bar’s entrance. But it seemed that everyone else had had the same idea– about forgoing the restaurant, at least– and Monty bumped into a distressed London at the top of the stairs.
‘Where the bleep have you been? We’ve been worried about you. Well, some of us more than others.’ London rolled his eyes in Tim’s direction as his drunken frame staggered up the final steps and cannoned into the back of the doorman. It was all Monty could do not to pick his teammate up and throw him in a giant puddle. ‘Listen, I’ve settled the bill but we’ve come to the unanimous decision that a certain somebody’s shoddy behaviour has made it impossible for us to carry on with the celebrations tonight. We’ll reconvene… and I will be scheduling in a very stern word with the person in question next week. He’s on his final-final warning now. I’ll call you soon, Captain. I know the wait for news must be impossible but just be patient. All good things, etcetera.’
Luckily the restaurant had a waiting list so something good had come out of the night and the team had inadvertently made a dozen people in the city feel as if they’d won the lottery. But now Monty was back to feeling as moody as the clouds. He should have jumped to Lola’s defence at the stadium. The fact that he hadn’t told him everything he needed to know: he was nowhere near invested enough in his day job. He planned and implemented online campaigns for Beau-re-mi’s collections, for fuck’s sake. He should know every garment inside and out. Buthe hadn’t as much as associated the incident with his company’s summer wardrobe. He ought to be fired.
Now he’d cost Lolaherjob. Monty was puzzled, though. She hadn’t seemed devastated about walking away from it. Something didn’t add up. And he couldn’t help but think that whilst Maxine had got some things right about her business, she’d gotten others very wrong. It was all well and good having these finishing touches in place; the doorman who made you feel as if you were entering a private Mayfair club, the exquisite cocktails, the decor (well, kind of… if you were into Victorian bathrooms). But look at the lack of attention to detail where her staff’s safety was concerned. She’d overspent on the frippery and now couldn’t afford to hire enough workers or upgrade to proper electrics. Then Monty thought back to his eureka moment in the square and felt judgy. Was Beau-re-mi really such an exemplary business model?
The walk home seemed to take forever, hardly helped by cars splashing surface water and people not watching where they were going because they had the luxury of a giant umbrella. But even if he had cover he wouldn’t use it, Monty needed the penance.
He refused to feel bad about Tim’s fate, on the other hand. Monty had been to private school with the guy and they’d been cricket rivals for years when they’d played for different local teams. But their banter had always been friendly– or so he’d thought. Once they’d both signed up with Bath Beasts, Tim’s joshing had swiftly spiralled into jealousy, especially when Monty was chosen to be captain.
Tim knew he was the weakest link in the team with his increasingly poor deliveries and missed shots on the pitch. The only thing he’d been hitting was the bottle– ever frequently at social events, making a bigger and bigger dick of himself. Now his envy had reached an all-time high and he couldn’t standseeing Monty being fawned over by London and the scouts. It was uncalled for when Monty had given his all and his success had been fairly won. Besides, he wasn’t the only player in contention for great things; Seth and Sanjay were also rumoured to be in talks with the powers that be.
Finally Monty reached the Royal Crescent. Now he needed to put his plan into action. Fast. He ran up the stairs to his apartment, changed out of his wet clothes and into his lounging pyjama bottoms and a T-shirt, and gave his Venetian blond hair (as his mother would insist upon referring to it) a jolly good towel rub. But there would be no time for relaxation tonight. He’d be fueled by coffee and justice. All right, maybe a quick peanut butter and jelly sandwich too.
Settling himself on his bed, Monty took a deep breath, pulled out his phone and followed through with what he should have done on Friday, tapping TikTok’s iconic musical note symbol. It would be the quickest place to watch the very moment when Lola made the catch. But as his thumbs typed keywords into the search bar, he thought back to the real life person behind the screen persona; the girl he’d kissed tonight. No, he still couldn’t do it like this. He’d hunt down every arsehole who’d commented on the video and make them live to regret it.
