Page 30 of Carbon

“Ooh, look. Here’s Gregory to take care of you. I’ll leave the pair of you alone.”

Hooray, he’d come over just in time for my eyes to start watering. I imagined mascara running down my face as I attempted a smile.

“Can I get you a glass of water?” he asked.

“I’m good with the wine, thank you.” Spoken like a true alcoholic.

“Perhaps if you tried drinking it a little more slowly?” He took my arm and guided me over to a seat. “Stéphane’s about to play. I thought we could listen together.”

As I hadn’t seen any sign of Beau, I didn’t have a good reason to decline. Although memories of Midnight wearing a suit the first time I met him and a tuxedo the second still niggled at me—what reason could a caretaker have for owning such garments?

“Canapé?” a waiter asked.

I squinted at the pastry cases filled with white dollops on his tray. “What are they?”

He looked panicked. “I’m not sure, ma’am.”

Gregory picked up one of the offending morsels and bit into it. “Some sort of cheese.”

Nope, I definitely didn’t want stinky breath when I met Midnight. “I’ll pass.”

I fidgeted through half an hour of small talk and sonatas before my phone vibrated against my thigh, sending my pulse into a frenzy.

“Would you excuse me a moment?”

Gregory reached over and squeezed my hand—a small gesture but a proprietary one coming from a man who didn’t seem to be the touchy-feely type. “Of course.”

Luckily, I didn’t have to resort to the cupboard this time, and I dashed into the nearest cloakroom and locked the door. What did he want?

Angie

So bored by this music. Yawn. Gone out for a drive with Andreas. Don’t wait up.

A long sigh escaped my lips. All that build-up and it was only my sister heading for another one-night stand. Normally, she didn’t bother to tell me, but she’d been chasing Andreas for almost six months, so I guess she wanted me to congratulate her.

Well done. Think of me while you’re off having fun.

Angie

My head will be full of other things. And my mouth.

Too much information. I’d written out half a snarky reply when my phone vibrated again, and this time my heart deserved its palpitations.

Mr. M

Meet me at midnight. I’m sure you can guess where.

My story—he’d read it! Which meant in two and a half hours I’d be off for a romp in the back of my grandfather’s vintage Cadillac, a beauty he’d spent ages lovingly restoring, but which had barely been driven since his death eight years ago. I missed him so much. Of all the people in my family, he and Angie were the only ones who hadn’t been blessed with a sense-of-humour bypass. Perhaps that was another reason I enjoyed Midnight’s company so much. He had wit as well as a delicious cock.

But before I could sample his wares again, I had to spend another two hours in purgatory.

Under normal circumstances, and by normal, I meant where I wasn’t screwing a stranger on a regular basis, I might have been happy with the attention Gregory paid me for the rest of the evening. At one point, he even gave Lord Wordsworth the brush-off in favour of accompanying me to the cocktail bar my mother had set up in one corner. I needed the alcohol to calm my nerves.

“Augusta?”

A voice came from behind me, and I turned to find a friend of my sister’s making the most of the free drinks. He had one in each hand. Where did he think he was—a university piss-up?

“Good evening... I’m sorry; I don’t remember your name?”