Page 29 of Hit For Six
To take her mind very swiftly off what that might involve, she asked what something else would involve:
‘Can’t you give me a clue as to whatitentails? Just a little one?’
Lola pushed her tray across the bed, suddenly unable to resist the pull of the mini bar. She should have ordered a glass of wine with her meal but she really had intended not to touch any alcohol tonight. It went hand in hand with these fairs and she couldn’t cope with another fuzzy head tomorrow morning. But a miniature bottle of champagne wouldn’t hurt. Harry had given her carte blanche with the company credit card and insisted that she made up for lost time. While she didn’t want to give her boss the satisfaction of falling for the cheap thrill, she sensed that she might end up chatting to Monty a little longer. She could hardly do that with the veggie risotto that was now going cold on her plate, but some fizz would be a relaxing accompaniment.
‘After you let me be the anti-avocado scapegoat? I don’t think so.’
Monty cackled mock evilly. At least Lola hoped he was pretending when Squiffy was in his care.
She crawled over to the mini bar, nudged the phone under her chin, grabbed the bottle and opener, yanked the top off, and drank straight from it. Ungraceful but necessary.
‘So, we’re in a point scoring game now?’
‘It would appear that way… unless you have something else to talk about.’
Five minutes later, effervescence swimming in her stomach and lust flooding her veins, since Monty had sent her some adorable selfies with Squiffy, suddenly Lola had to tell him everything:
Julian, the dress, her colleagues and their weird behaviour, and finally… her parents’ awful situation. She omitted the handouts she was giving her mum. And she decided to take Maxine’s hint to stay silent about her business until it was set up and ready to go.
Just as she was terrified he would be, Monty turned out to be the most incredible listener. Patient, waiting for the right moment to ask the right questions, understanding, supportive and kind.
Two hours after she’d bared her soul, Lola’s eyelids grew heavy, and, although she’d madden every mindfulness coach on the planet, she fell asleep clutching her phone to her heart.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Monty
Monty was relievedhe’d waited to do things on Lola’s terms. The call across the miles had been epic. Totally worth the risk. He’d yearned to jump into his phone and teletransport himself to Frankfurt so he could sit with her as he listened to all she’d been through. It wasa lot. For the moment he would have to console himself that he’d earned her trust. It felt amazing.
Julian had better never set foot on English soil again, though. He might be on another continent to Lola right now, but the guy made his skin crawl. And that Harry sounded like an absolute pushover of an enabler who was now backpedalling like mad to keep hold of his best member of staff.
As for Monty, he was far from perfect himself. He couldn’t keep living this lie. He’d so wanted to confide in Lola the other night but even if the opportunity had arisen, once she found out what his parents were like, there was no way she’d agree to the party– when he eventually plucked up the courage to invite her to it.
Why did life have to be so obstinately difficult?
His father was turning into the most despicable creature. It was hard to know if Frederick was calling his bluff but Monty would be damned if he was coming up with ideas to distract the consumers. He wasn’t a publicist or a troubleshooter. Why should his department have to pick up the slack? He was being punished for slogging that damn ball in the match. That’s what this boiled down to. It would have been a whole different ball game– and here the pun was intended– if he’d been playing traditional cricket as opposed to T20… or ‘pyjama cricket’, as hisfather often referred to it on account of the bright colours the players wore. Well, for want of a better way of putting things, two could play that game.
Monty rang the doorbell to Lola’s apartment on Friday afternoon, hesitantly going in for a cheek kiss. Just the one. He could feel the heat radiating from his body as his lips brushed her soft face and wished they could have done more. Thankfully, Lola didn’t push him away.
‘What’s all that stuff on your back?’ she asked as she took in the sight of him. ‘Oh, no.’ Lola covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes projecting the horror she was currently feeling. ‘We’re playingcricket? Couldn’t somebody else step in? Look at me.’ She did an inventory of her outfit, sweeping her gaze from side to side across her body and down to her feet. ‘I’m really not dressed for sport.’
But she was utterly gorgeous in her long, red paisley sundress and navy baseball boots, a midriff-skimming denim jacket completing the look.
‘It’s just a casual bowling and batting session. I promise.’ Monty peered over his shoulder in case he’d unwittingly given someone a piggyback. But no. It was just a bloody massive bag full of kit. ‘Most of the team are on holiday and my family and colleagues are only vaguely interested in what I do. So, a bit like the Squiffy scenario, you’re the only one I can trust.’ Monty threw his palms up devil-may-care style. ‘And I know that it probably sounds like I’m inventing excuses to spend time with you, but I had to drop the keys off.’ He rummaged around in his pocket and dropped them into an unconvinced Lola’s hand, giving himself brownie points for not touching her skin. ‘Honestly, Lola, I’m scared I’ll get rusty and ruin everything if I don’t get out this week and put in a bit of practice. Even the training nets can’t be booked as London is on holiday.’
‘Wh-where exactly will this session be taking place?’
Lola narrowed her eyes, one hand grabbing the doorframe.
‘Only over at Victoria Park. There’s always a quiet space. Nobody will bother us. I wanted to take you to the stadium for a knock about on the pitch but I didn’t want it to trigger you.’
‘Thanks.’ She loosened her grip. ‘I’m not sure I could have faced those security guards without swinging the bat at them and making even more of a name for myself. Although, it’s come to my attention that every woman in the UK is currently after a certain dress. Go figure!’ She laughed sarcastically. ‘I really wish I’d studied psychology sometimes.’
‘Lola, none of that was your fault. And yeah, well, what can I say? Nobody rocks a frock like you do.’ Monty raked a hand through his hair and looked at her in earnest. He meant every word. She was so bloody gorgeous, and seemingly unaware of it. Poles apart from the every vain woman he’d been with before. ‘I’d do anything to turn back time. I’d have abandoned the match and been right there by your side. You must know that.’
‘I know. We talked about it atquite some lengththe other night! But I wouldn’t have let you even if I wasn’t aware of how much was hinging on the match. Actually, that sexy print of you was kind of with me when–’
Lola stopped in her tracks.
