Page 17 of Another Lucky Number

By the time I’ve showered and pulled on some comfy shorts and a T-shirt, the nervous knot has turned into a ginormous net of slippery, slithering fish. Wiping away the stress-induced sweat beads from my forehead, I grab a mineral water from the minibar and glug at it thirstily, hoping it will calm my nausea. Unfortunately, it has minimal effect.

‘OK, breathe, Emma,’ I say out loud to myself. ‘There’s nothing to get worked up about. It’s just dinner with a very,veryhot man. That’s a good thing. Something to look forward to. And it’s not at all cheating, because –remember– you and James have had one date.One. It’s all hypothetical right now.’

I pace the room, taking big deep breaths and finally feel myself calming.

There we go. It’s all fine. There’s nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.Oh hell, who am I kidding? This is not fine. Sébastien is the hottest man on earth. I’m totally punching and even though getting it on with him would undoubtedly be as decadent as the finest champagne, it would mean that I’d have to be honest with James if he asked.

My eyes roam the room, seeking a non-existent solution. Then a thought pops into my mind: Lottie. She’ll be home from hospital. Her wisdom is exactly what I need. I grab my phone and dial her on FaceTime, and she answers almost immediately.

‘That was quick,’ I say in place of a greeting.

‘Hello, my love.’ Lottie smiles at me in her kindly way. ‘I was looking at some things on the internet as your call came through.’

‘The internet? You don’t use the internet.’

‘It would appear I do now. James has been showing me how to go “on safari”.

‘You don’t go “on safari”.’ I chuckle. ‘The internet app iscalledSafari.’

‘I see.’ Lottie’s statement suggests understanding but her elderly face is one of bewilderment.

‘I’ve been trying to persuade you to use the internet on your iPad for ages. How did James get you using it so quickly?’

‘I’m not sure it was quick.’ Lottie’s eyes crinkle with amusement behind her spectacles. ‘He spent nearly three hours talking me through it, showing me what to do, repeating it over and over. Such a patient young man. I kept getting into the most awful pickles.’

On hearing this, I feel ever so slightly envious that Lottie has spent this time with James. I want to spend hours alone with him – and I can think of better things we could do than a tech lesson.

‘That’s great, Lottie,’ I say. ‘That was really nice of him. Is that you out of hospital then?’

‘Yes.’ Her spectacle chain wobbles as she nods. ‘My discharge papers were ready earlier than expected. James wheeled me along those corridors at some rate, I tell you. Wouldn’t hear of letting a porter do it. He’s just wonderful.’

‘Sounds like it.’

I feel myself getting all gooey-eyed. James the good Samaritan. James the caring and the carer. My James.Wait. No.He’s not ‘my James’. He’s just James. All we have right now is powerful chemistry and some witty banter on Messenger. And I have a date with another man. I must not get beyond myself.

‘Emma, are you all right?’ Lottie’s voice cuts through my thoughts. ‘You look like you have something on your mind.’

The slithering fish in my belly give an almighty nauseating flip. But instead of taking this opportunity to pour out mydilemma and lap up Lottie’s wisdom, I hesitate. It may be my chance to get some solid advice, but I realise I can’t go there. With Lottie spending so much time with James, I can’t possibly put her in the position of knowing I’m dating (or thinking of dating) someone else – regardless of the situation. And what if he were to suddenly appear at hers and overhear me talking to her about it?

Plus – what the hell am I thinking?My James?I can’t allow ridiculous notions like that to form in my mind. Good Samaritan he might be, but boyfriend he is not – not yet anyway. It’s clear to me that, not only should I not implicate Lottie in my dilemma, it’s already solved. I need to go on this date for a reality check, if nothing else.

‘I’m fine, honestly,’ I say. ‘Probably still a bit jet-lagged.’

‘OK.’ She doesn’t seem convinced. ‘You know where I am if you need to chat.’

‘I do. I’m so glad you’re out of hospital and being looked after. I’ll visit you loads when I get home to stop you getting bored.’

‘That will be lovely.’ Lottie gives me an appreciative smile. ‘But, for now, may I request – once again – that you forget about me and enjoy your time away. It will be over too soon. Make the most of it.’

‘I think I can do that.’ I blow her a kiss. ‘The enjoying myself bit. Not forgetting about you. Speak soon.’

‘Goodbye, my love. Take good care of yourself.’

I end the call, toss my phone onto the bed and let out a faltering sigh. With my decision made, there’s no point in putting things off. It’s time to get ready for my date.

Chapter Eight

Awhile later, I find myself sitting on my balcony terrace, nursing a large medicinal gin and tonic from the minibar. I’m dressed in what I hope is an outfit sophisticated enough for a date with a multi-millionaire: a sleek printed wrap dress and pretty black high-heeled sandals, accessorised with a small clutch and some tasteful gold jewellery. Cat and Amber have joined me for a ‘pre-date briefing session’, which essentially involves Amber tossing innuendos at me from all angles, and Cat offering the more helpful, supportive advice.

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