As Weekends Go (Choc Lit) (15 page)

Rebecca took a step back, breaking contact with him, her attraction to him so powerful this time that she’d never been so grateful to see Kenny advancing.

‘Are we having that pint, or what?’ he bellowed, even though he and Abi had moved to within two feet of them.

‘Yes. Come on, you,’ said Abi, giving Rebecca the cheesiest of grins, ‘we need to go and get ready.’

Alex had watched Rebecca set off up the stairs after Abi before he’d followed Kenny into the Regency bar. They would normally have had a drink in Fairways after a round of golf, but some twonk in there with a tragic comb-over had started mouthing off to them about Rebecca being a wannabe wag. Alex had found it laughable, swiftly proposing he and Kenny switch to the main hotel bar before it turned ugly.

Halfway across the car park they’d bumped into two brunettes, fresh from their spa vitality day, one of whom Kenny had apparently shagged after hours at his gym one night.

Not wishing to scupper his chances of a potential future rematch, Kenny had struck up a conversation with her, duly saddling Alex with her friend, until Rebecca and Abi had shown up in their taxi.

Alex had seen Rebecca look across at them, the set of her mouth and slope of her shoulders evident as she’d sat on the step.

Wannabe wag? She was as far from the stereotype as he could imagine.

Although maybe it would have been better for him if Rebecca
had
fawned all over him the previous evening – cracked this crazy illusion in his head of them being together – instead of proving to be the same naturally warm, sexy, funny, gracious beauty he’d initially laid eyes on in the hotel.

She’d fought so hard to camouflage her feelings, but he’d seen the mutual attraction reflected in her face.

You should have walked away, Alex, deployed the ‘switch off’ technique you use so well when focusing on your football. The woman’s married.

In the bar, Danny was putting the finishing touches to a piña colada when he saw them. ‘Early tonight, boys. Nobody in Fairways?’ he said, glancing at his watch.

‘Only that old tosspot with the stupid hairstyle,’ said Kenny, craning round to see who else was in.

‘You mean Barry?’

Kenny laughed. ‘Yeah. Talking of old tosspots …’ He relayed the story of the dancing dinosaur in the nightclub.

‘This blonde and brunette you rescued in there,’ said Danny, plopping down the piña colada on a passing waiter’s tray, ‘they wouldn’t happen to be called Rebecca and Abi, would they?’

‘Yeah. How do you know that?’ said Kenny, shooting Alex a sideways look.

‘Call it intuition,’ said Danny, pouring two pints.

Alex could tell he was being diplomatic. From what he’d overheard Abi saying last night, it was Danny who’d recommended Images to her.

He caught the flicker of surprise on the barman’s face when Kenny went on to reveal, in his normal indiscreet way, what they were doing that night. Danny had obviously spoken to the girls enough to probably know that Rebecca was married. Alex wondered what his opinion of her was. And, indeed, of Abi.

‘Sounds like you’re in for a fun evening if last night’s anything to go by,’ said Danny, removing some empty glasses and a couple of used napkins from the bar.

‘Yeah, should be a laugh,’ said Kenny. He turned to Alex. ‘Play your cards right and you could be in there tonight, Alexander, my old son.’

Danny gave both men a questioning look.

‘With Rebecca,’ said Kenny, swilling back his lager. ‘Abi’s mine.’

‘Never changes, does he, Dan?’ said Alex, shaking his head and laughing. He knew the barman had been acquainted with them long enough to know their respective personalities.

Deep down he also knew he should have pre-warned Rebecca about their evening-in-waiting. If last night’s antics had freaked her out at all, Kenny’s uncle would mentally scar her for life.

But then if he’d pre-warned her, she might have pulled out …

However selfish Alex felt, however troubled by his feelings towards her, the lure of spending a last few precious hours with her was too strong to risk losing.

Rebecca checked out her new lingerie in the full-length wardrobe mirror. Abi had dragged her into Ann Summers during their shopping trip. ‘May as well go the whole hog,’ she’d said. ‘If nothing else, Greg will hopefully appreciate it.’

Rebecca hadn’t liked to say that Greg wouldn’t. Oh, at one time, maybe. Nowadays, he couldn’t be bothered with ‘all that frilly tat’ as he put it. When the mood took him, he wanted her naked.

She tugged at her briefs – high cut and lacy. Nothing like her white, cotton faithfuls. They felt sensational.

She pulled on her complimentary bathrobe and started applying her make-up, and had just finished blending in her eye shadows when Abi knocked at the door.

‘Wow! You look fantastic,’ Rebecca cried, staring at the vision in black and white georgette standing before her.

‘Oh, just a little something I threw on, dahling.’ Abi blew her a kiss as she wafted past her into the room. ‘I see you’ve got your new frillies on beneath that robe, you little vixen.’

‘Well, as the dress was new, I thought I might as well.’

‘Honey, you don’t have to explain yourself. Why
shouldn’t
you wear them?’ said Abi, coming towards her.

‘Actually, I’m feeling jittery about tonight.’

‘Funny you should say that. Not long before I left the room, Nick rang me. He sounded really strange, kept saying he loved me all the time, which is very sweet, but a bit OTT.’

‘Well, at least he rang you. There’s no way I’m risking disturbing Greg again. I’ll let him call me back when he’s less busy, I think. He should be home from the conference by now, unless his plans have changed. He knows I’m not back until tomorrow.’

A look of uncertainty passed between them.

‘Oh, come on,’ said Abi, ‘get that dress on and give us a twirl! We’ll end up talking ourselves out of going, otherwise.’ She opened the tiny carrier bag she’d brought in with her, fishing out two dainty gold spangled hair slides. ‘I got these in Oxford Street last week. They’ll look lovely in your hair. I thought we could sweep the sides up and curl the back a bit.’ She demonstrated this to Rebecca in the mirror. ‘What do you think?’

‘You’re the boss.’

Rebecca hadn’t felt this fussed over since her wedding day. Abi had taken her role of chief bridesmaid very seriously, helping Rebecca with her veil, painting her nails for her. She was taking tonight seriously, too, by the look of things. Rebecca felt like Cinderella about to go to the ball.

With the clock ticking, they performed the obligatory bag check.

‘What one of us has forgotten, the other will have,’ said Abi. ‘Let’s get going.’

At eight thirty precisely they entered the Regency bar.

‘Stone me!’ Kenny’s eyes swung between them like a pendulum. ‘Am I dreaming?’

Every head at the bar turned to see what he was gawping at.

The look on Alex’s face when he saw Rebecca made her heart soar. Greg hadn’t even looked at her like that when she’d floated down the aisle in her wedding dress.

‘Hello,’ he said, stepping forward to greet both women. ‘What would you like to drink?’

‘Vodka and tonic please, Alex,’ said Abi, sidling up to Kenny.

Rebecca vaguely heard herself ask him for a Bacardi and coke.

‘You look beautiful,’ he whispered back in her ear.

‘Thank you. I bought it today,’ she said, still basking in the glow of his initial approval.

Alex excused himself to order the drinks.

Rebecca shuddered at the thought of seeing comb-over guy sitting somewhere along the bar, smirking at her, but there was no sign of him.

She took her drink from Alex, whose mobile phone was now going off, prompting him to once more excuse himself to go and answer it.

‘Probably his agent checking up on him,’ said Kenny, who must have seen her eyes following Alex’s route to the relative quiet of the pool terrace doorway.

Rebecca sensed his desire to expand on this, but judged it to be none of her business, and instead grabbed the chance to say a quick hello to Danny, who seemed decidedly less smiley behind the bar tonight.

‘Bit of a late one last night, then?’ he said, citing Kenny as the snitch.

Rebecca found herself drip-feeding him clues to ensure he knew that she and Abi had both woken up alone that morning.

‘Hey, I wasn’t inferring anything,’ said Danny, after she’d clarified and re-clarified, in case there was a smidgeon of doubt.

‘I know it must look odd us going out with them again tonight,’ said Rebecca, taking a sip of her Bacardi, knowing full well that, in Danny’s position, she’d probably be thinking that very thing, ‘but it’s purely platonic.’

‘Well, as long as you’re okay with it, who gives a fig what anyone else thinks?’ He rested his hand on her arm. ‘You’ve no worries with Alex, Rebecca. He’s one of life’s good guys.’ He snatched his hand away as the man himself rejoined them.

‘Sorry about that. My agent sounding me out about a couple of bookings,’ said Alex. ‘Why it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, I don’t know.’

So Kenny had been right.

‘An agent. How exciting!’ said Abi, ears flapping.

‘Not particularly,’ said Alex. ‘Oh, Terry’s great. He just forgets sometimes that I’ve a life outside football.’

‘That’s because he’s a greedy shit,’ said Kenny, sticking his head over Abi’s shoulder. ‘You do enough community work through the club. He’s lining his own pockets, mate.’

‘Nah, you’re wrong, Millsy. Terry might be pushy, but I trust him.’

Rebecca wondered had they forgotten she and Abi could hear.

‘Right, people, let’s go,’ said Kenny.

They said goodbye to Danny and, amidst a plethora of ping-ponging eyeballs, single- filed out of the bar.

In the light of the lobby, Rebecca appreciated just how stylish both men looked. Clean- shaven and scented accordingly, they’d chosen smart over casual, the only difference between them being that Kenny’s shirt should have come with a sun visor.

‘Scrub up well, don’t they?’ Abi whispered. ‘Those shoes Alex is wearing are about two hundred pounds a pop.’

‘I’ll pop you in a minute if you don’t look where you’re going,’ Rebecca whispered back, leading Abi down the hotel steps.

They heard a beeping sound; Kenny disarming the central locking on his Range Rover Sport.

‘Whoah! Nick would kill for one of these,’ said Abi, running a hand over its silver paintwork.

‘Jump in the front if you like,’ said Alex, opening the door for her.

Rebecca marvelled at the grace with which Abi hoisted herself in, panicking that when she followed suit, she’d stick her heel through her dress.

‘Do you want a hand?’ Alex asked, politely levering her into the back.

She smoothed down her dress as he climbed in beside her, covering her ears as Kenny switched on the engine, deafening everyone with the brain-jarring bass of some rap anthem.

Oblivious to his passengers’ plight, Kenny sparked up a cigarette, slammed the gear stick in drive and roared out of the hotel car park.

Greg pulled onto their horseshoe driveway and cut his engine. He decided not to garage the Lexus tonight. All he wanted was to get himself and his baggage indoors without old net-twitcher Shirley next door spotting him. That was the trouble with these light evenings. People were outside until all hours.

He managed to clear out his boot and gather up his belongings, and had got as far as unlocking the porch, when she poked her bloody antlers over the wall.

‘Hello, Greg! Enjoy your weekend? Rebecca told me you’d both be away. You look exhausted, dear. Been overworking you, have they?’

If Greg had been the paranoid type he’d have read something into that, especially with the way Shirley was looking at him, arms crossed, eyebrows up round her hairline somewhere, as though he had a picture of himself fucking Nina in the shower tattooed across his forehead.

Oh, sweet Jesus, had he and Nina really done that?

He saw Shirley’s lips moving, and zoned back in as she banged on about him remembering to put out the rubbish.

‘Green box this week, plus any gardening waste. I expect Rebecca’s told you umpteen times already,’ she said, peering up at the assembling grey clouds. ‘She’s such a good girl, so organised. What time is she home from York tomorrow?’

‘Erm … teatime or early evening, I would imagine.’ He knocked the porch door handle down with his elbow, trying not to drop the half dozen files and brochures stored under his arm. The last person he wanted to discuss right now was Bex.

Shirley thought the world of her. Ever since Rebecca had started composing those stupid quizzes for her, the woman had latched on like a limpet. Bex had even suggested asking the old crab to his mum’s seventieth birthday do next Saturday. Everyone in the entire cul-de-sac would be invited if she had her way. Bloody leeches. Let them throw their own sodding party. Although the bloke from number five might be worth getting to know. He and his wife had just returned from a three-week South African safari.

‘Oh, well, must go,’ he said, rictus grin just about holding out. ‘Things to do, people to see, as they say.’ He turned away before she could comment.

Once indoors he dumped all his gear at the bottom of the stairs and strode into the kitchen, where he saw the note with various reminders that Rebecca had left on the breakfast bar for him, before they’d gone off on Friday morning. No point in watering all those hanging baskets of hers out the back, it looked like it was about to piss down at any second.

He sent her a quick text, saying he’d been tied up in post-conference powwows all day and would call her tomorrow morning. He then made himself some cheese on toast and took it through to the lounge to eat, together with the last wedge of Rebecca’s latest fruit cake, only allowing his mind to stray to Nina once he’d poured himself a large Jack Daniels and collapsed in his favourite armchair.

How long exactly, after he’d followed her inside, had they waited before stripping each other’s clothes off? Ten minutes?
Five?
They hadn’t even had a drink beforehand.

All those months of stressing and planning how things would go, fine-tuning his presentation to ensure she’d witness the fullness of his success, pondering how they’d cope with working together if Torrison decided to use Rutland as their leasing company, and then in one weekend he not only bags the deal, guaranteeing him the sweetest, fattest of bonuses, but gains himself a re-connection with Nina that exceeds anything he could have possibly imagined.

He’d only cheated on Rebecca the once – an opportunistic one night stand during a business trip to Ireland long before they were married. Yet, shockingly bad as it sounded, sleeping with Nina this afternoon hadn’t felt like being unfaithful at all.

Why?

Simply because it was Nina.

He half whooped, half laughed to himself.

Greg Stafford. You’re one extremely lucky bastard!

He grabbed the remote control off the armrest, turned on the Sky TV box and surfed the sports channels. Greyhound racing.
Boring
. Darts.
Boring
. Ah, golf … That was more like it.

He rubbed his tummy, letting out a burp of satisfaction.

‘
Yes!
’ he cried, watching Lee Westwood sink a monster putt on the eighth green. He should have been collating figures for tomorrow, but after the weekend he’d had, it could wait.

His mobile phone vibrated in his trouser pocket.

Nina calling.

‘Ms O’Donnell?’ he said, rising to his feet. ‘Missing me already?’

She giggled. ‘You’ll get me into trouble, you will.’

‘Me get
you
into trouble,’ he said, naked images of her teasing his brain.

‘Hey, don’t panic. I knew you’d be there on your own. Now, putting my business cap back on—’

‘Along with your clothes, you mean?’

‘Okay, now who’s being naughty?’

‘Fair point,’ said Greg, drunk with lust.

‘Like I was saying, business hat … and hear me out before you say anything. Now that we’ll be taking the leasing world by storm, how about we do lunch one day next week. Invite Rebecca along. I’ll invite a few of the other office bods along, too, so it’s not too intimidating for her. I know you’re probably shocked that I’ve mentioned her, given that we were lying in bed together two hours ago, but we never really discussed this side of things, not even in the bar on Saturday night, how she felt about our two companies working together; about me possibly being back on the scene.’

No, we didn’t, Greg thought.
Because she doesn’t bloody know that part.

‘I mean, I accept it’ll be a little awkward,’ Nina went on, ‘but it’ll make things considerably easier when we come into contact at any social work gatherings. You know I won’t drop you in it – that goes without saying. Or have you not even told her yet?’

Greg sighed.
Shit!

‘She doesn’t know I was at the conference, does she?’

‘I thought it best to wait and see what happened before I told her,’ Greg admitted.

‘Hmmm … suspected so. I can read you like a book, even now.’

‘I’ll ask her,’ said Greg, intending to do no such thing. ‘We can speak in the week and take it from there.’

‘Brilliant! I’ll let you go, as I know you have tons to do.’

‘Yes, well if a certain person hadn’t diverted me,’ said Greg, his body stirring once more.

‘I didn’t hear you complaining too loudly at the time.’

He smiled into the phone. ‘Away with you, temptress!’

‘Bye, darling. Sweet dreams,’ she said, ending the call.

Greg sat on the lounge floor with his back against the sofa for the next half an hour trying to figure it all out. This was vintage Nina at her delicious best, this was. Yes, mutual discretion would be assured regarding this and any future trysts, but he still mustn’t lose the edge.

And he
must
tell Rebecca about the work situation as soon as possible.

After he’d sufficiently buttered her up, of course.