I opened my mouth—
“And don’t whimper about it.”
“But I’m so cute when I’m whimpering.”
“Save it for your billionaire.”
I whimpered anyway. “I don’t know what to write about.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Nik gazed around the flat. “Nothing to write about here.”
“I can’t…OMG. That would be a total violation of Caspian’s trust.”
“I’m not suggesting you give us a blow-by-blow of your relationship. But isn’t this lifestyle magazine gold dust?”
“Regular reader of those, are you?”
“I went to school with half the people who show up in Milieu these days so”—he blushed—“yeah. Of course I am.”
Oh my God, too adorbs. I just had to tease him. “And how else would you know what handbag Kate Middleton is carrying.”
“Hey, hey.” Nik got, if possible, even pinker. “They do this watch and sports car pullout, which is amazing.”
More famous still was The List, which was a rundown of the UK’s top hundred most eligible single people. I could vaguely remember a time when it had been bachelors only but yay for social equality. Last year Caspian Hart had been number seven, sandwiched between Prince Harry and Phoebe Collings-James. Not that I’d looked it up or anything. Ahem.
“It would be completely amazing to work for Milieu,” I said dreamily.
“Then get scribbling.” Nik had obviously reached his limit for talking about my feelings—which, to be fair, was higher than you’d expect for someone whose preferred emotional outlet was running really fast or lifting heavy things. “Is there anything to eat around here?”
“Coco Pops? Or I could make toast.”
“Seriously? People who live in places like this dine on breakfast cereal?”
“Well, no. There’s private chefs and restaurants I could call, I guess. Or there’s…what’s it called…in-residence catering from the hotel next door.”
“Isn’t that one of Heston Blumenthal’s places?” Nik gave me starving puppy eyes.
I winced, very aware I was being a rubbish host. Bellerose had explicitly told me I had access to, well, basically anything I could imagine wanting. But running up a massive bill felt seedy as all hell. “Let me check, okay?”
I left Nik devouring the menu on my laptop and went into the hall to phone Bellerose. He picked up on the second ring.
“Yes?”
“Um.” Was I ever going to manage to talk to Caspian’s assistant, either in person or at a distance, without feeling gauche and stupid? Our survey said: no. “You know how I’ve got my friend Nik staying?”
“Yes.”
“Well, is it okay if we order dinner from the hotel restaurant?”
There was a sharp little silence.
“Yes, Arden. It is okay if you order dinner from the hotel restaurant. If you’re very good, you can even stay up till eleven.”
Great. Now I wanted to curl up and die. “This is your way of telling me I shouldn’t be bothering you, isn’t it?”
He hung up.
Ow. Ow. Ow.