Page 5 of Made Up for Love
“You’re up early,” he directed towards her.
Her head swivelled in his direction. “I beg your pardon?”
“Sorry, I thought I was the only one up and about at this time of day.” He gestured to the otherwise empty restaurant.
“I’m being picked up in—” Lydia paused as she checked her phone. “Fifteen minutes.” Hurriedly, she shoved more of her breakfast into her mouth. It wouldn’t do to be late. She guessed that Stewart would be a stickler for time.
“Right.” He nodded. “And then you’re…?” He sort of shrugged his shoulders and shook his head at the same time as he asked the question. It was cute.
Why was he so interested in what she was doing? It had been such a long time since a guy had shown any interest in Lydia at this time of the morning, sober. She decided to humour him. “I’m a make-up artist and I’m working on a photo shoot with Sadie Starr. Have you heard of her?”
“Not really. Sounds like fun day though.” His own breakfast arrived, and Lydia looked longingly at the bacon on his plate.
Her phone vibrated with a message from Stewart, saying he was already outside. She’d been right about his punctuality. She swigged some coffee from her cup, instantly regretting it as it pulled off the layer of skin on the roof of her mouth. “Have a fun day too,” she said, as she stood up and headed out of the restaurant. If she wasn’t mistaken, she could feel his eyes on her back. It took all of her willpower not to turn around and wave at him. Honestly, it wasn’t as if she’d be seeing him again. Once the shoot was finished, she’d be going back to the airport and home.
Back in her room, she brushed her teeth and quickly sorted out the kit she needed for the day. Most of it had already been sorted, thanks to Jacinta’s notes. She threw everything else, she didn’t need to take with her to the shoot, into her other suitcase. Lydia pulled on her jacket, grabbed her belongings and headed back down to reception. She could see Stewart’s car outside for her and waited patiently for the receptionist to finish up her phone call, so she could give her key back. As she waited, her eyes wandered into the restaurant where the guy, who had briefly chatted to her at breakfast, was still eating. His head was bent over a newspaper and she imagined he was probably checking out the sports news or maybe the financial headlines. She shook her head, wondering why she was even checking him out. It really had been too long. Maybe she did need to take Jacinta’s advice and begin swiping right instead of left.
“Can I help you?” It was a different receptionist to the one the previous evening.
“I need to check out. I think everything was paid for?” Lydia slid the key card in its case across the desk.
The woman took it from her and tapped some details into the computer. “Yes, everything’s fine, Ms Blaire. Nothing to pay.”
“I’m not…” began Lydia, then thought better of it. Stewart was waiting.
“I hope you enjoyed your stay and that we’ll be seeing you again soon.” The receptionist smiled as her gaze scanned Lydia’s outfit. “And I hope you’ll be warm enough. It’s freezing out there.”
“Thank you.” Lydia smiled back, not believing her. She picked up her make-up kit and hefted her handbag over her shoulder, heading through the door to meet Stewart.
However, the bitter blast that hit her almost took her breath away. It was ridiculously cold outside; she’d been lulled into a false sense of security being in the hotel. Gingerly, she began to make her way down the stone steps, feeling her feet begin to slip from underneath her. The last thing she wanted to do was fall on her backside in view of the man from breakfast.
Stewart jumped out of the car and came to her rescue, taking her make-up kit from her, which gave her the opportunity to rebalance. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“We don’t get snow like this down in London. I’m not used to it.”
“Neither are we; this is the heaviest we’ve had in ages. I came a bit early because the roads are a bit treacherous.”
Lydia didn’t like his use of the word ‘treacherous’. She wondered what that might mean for their journey. It wouldn’t exactly create a good impression for her with Sadie Starr if she were late. Her phone pinged with a message at exactly the same time as Stewart’s did. She read it and looked in horror at the chauffeur.
“Does this mean we’re going to be late?”
He shook his head as he read exactly the same information as Lydia. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll make sure you get there in plenty of time. We’ll need to be careful though.”
4
Sounds like a fun day though?
What the hell was I thinking? Joel mentally face-palmed himself as he watched the blond-haired woman leave the restaurant. He willed her to turn around, so he could at least wave or smile—anything to make her think he wasn’t a complete idiot. It didn’t matter in the big scheme of things, because it wasn’t as if he would see her again. She’d just tell her friends about the moron at breakfast.
The day stretched out in front of him. Now the meeting had been moved, his carefully crafted plans had been disrupted. Usually, he’d go and explore the town, but given the dump of snow that had happened overnight, he didn’t really fancy the thought of walking around somewhere he didn’t know and getting lost or worse, falling over. His boss would never forgive him if he didn’t make the meeting.
He spotted a discarded newspaper on the table, the other side of him, from where the woman had been sitting. On the front cover was an article about Sadie Starr. Intrigued, Joel started reading. He became appalled and sympathetic at the same time as he read how she’d been cheated on four times by her current boyfriend, while simultaneously seeing his best friend. He knew first-hand exactly how that felt, well, at least half of the story. Sadie was pretty, in an over-made-up kind of way. If you stripped off all the make-up, she’d probably be a natural beauty. He wondered whether the woman from breakfast would try that. He shook his head. Why was he contemplating the day job of someone he didn’t even know?
After breakfast, he went back to his room. It was time to practice the presentation again. Joel fired up his laptop, checked for the latest version that Sophia had sent and stood up. As he spoke, he walked around the room, half reading from his notes and half knowing it by heart. In his experience, he found that he was able to commit most of it to memory by going over and over it, which he did almost four times. He was so engrossed in what he was saying that he didn’t notice the door opening.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realise you were in here!” The housekeeper went to shut the door, but Joel stopped her.
“It’s okay, I can leave for a bit. In fact, it would be good to get out of here for a little bit. I’ll head down to the bar.” Joel gathered up his laptop, phone and notes.
