The One You Really Want (35 page)

‘I'm not surprised. You smell like a brewery,' said Carmen.

‘Splashed half a can of Tennant's Extra over me for that authentic, reeking-of-alcohol touch. Nice job, don't you think? Oh, come on, you know you can't resist the rough and ready look.' Advancing towards her, Rennie leered, ‘Come over here and give me a kiss.'

Carmen had been marvelling at the lengths he would go to to play a trick on her. She was about to open her mouth and tell him he had far too much time on his hands when it struck her that she'd got it all wrong.

‘Hang on, hang on.' Holding up her hands to ward him off, she said, ‘What made you do this?'

Still smiling lasciviously, Rennie bared his hideous brown teeth. ‘Wanted to see where you worked, find out what you do all day.'

‘Really? Or is that a big lie?'

He looked mystified. ‘Sorry?'

‘Oh, don't give me that. You came to spy on Nick!'

Rennie instantly conceded defeat. ‘OK, is that so terrible? You said I mustn't come to the flat because I'd be recognised. But it's OK for Nancy and Rose to go there. Why did Nancy turn up at the flat last night? Because she was dying to meet Nick. And I wanted to meet him too, but I wasn't allowed to,' he said simply. ‘So I did it the only way I could, by making sure nobody would recognise me. Not even you.'

‘You wanted to spy on him,' Carmen repeated evenly.

‘I wanted to see what he was like.'

‘Because you don't trust me! You think I'm incapable of choosing someone nice!' Carmen was torn between feeling outraged and touched by his concern.

‘Look, calm down,' said Rennie. ‘I was right about Joe, wasn't I? He seemed OK to begin with, but deep down I had this feeling he wasn't on the level. And now here you are, rushing into another relationship. I just wanted to check him out for myself, that's all. What's so terrible about that?'

Carmen sighed and sat down opposite him. Warily she said, ‘Fine, so now you have. And?'

‘The truth?'

‘Fire away,' Carmen said flatly.

‘OK.' Rennie nodded. ‘He seems like a good guy. Dodgy clothes.'

‘You can talk.'

‘Don't be defensive. He's no fashion icon. But I liked him and I'm pretty sure he's on the level.'

‘Of course he's on the level.'

‘It was fun, actually, watching the two of you together. Pretending not to be flirting with each other.' Amused, Rennie said, ‘He's mad about you. It's so obvious.'

‘No need to sound so surprised.' Now Carmen really wanted to hit him. ‘I'm not a complete troll.'

He rolled his eyes. ‘Don't be so touchy. I'm on your side. And I think you've chosen the right one this time. Nick's a decent bloke.'

‘Well, thank you.' Should she feel flattered or patronised on Nick's behalf?

‘If you marry him,' Rennie's eyes glittered, ‘will I be invited to the wedding?'

‘Not a chance,' said Carmen as Rose brought her a plate of stroganoff and rice.

‘Could I just lurk at the back of the church if I dress up as a tramp?'

‘Still no.' Carmen smiled sweetly at him. ‘And do you think you could go and brush your teeth now? They're starting to make me feel sick.'

 

Nancy's muscles didn't know what had hit them. Her calves were on fire, her lungs were close to bursting and there was barely enough strength in her neck to keep her head from flopping onto her chest.

But in the weirdest way she was actually enjoying herself.

Then again, it was always nice to stop.

One point nine seven miles on the treadmill. Nearly there. Willing herself on, Nancy watched the computerised counter move to one point nine eight . . . keep going, keep going . . . one point nine nine . . . oof, just a few more seconds . . . here we are, any second now . . .

Yes
. Two miles. Triumphantly slamming the flat of her hand onto the Stop button, Nancy felt the blissful slowing of the machine as it began to wind down. She clung to the side bars, panting and perspiring. Savannah, coming up to see how far she'd run, clapped her hands and said encouragingly, ‘Way to go, girl! You'll be entering the London marathon next. Don't overdo it though. Give your muscles time to recover. Now, off you hop and have a rest.'

Nancy, whose legs had now turned to not-quite-set jelly, gasped ‘
Hop
?'

After a shower, Nancy made her way back through to the bar. It was her third visit to the Lazy B since Sunday and already she was being recognised and greeted by other friendly regulars. Spotting Mia taking a break, she carried her coffee over to join her.

‘Hey.' Mia put down the magazine she'd been engrossed in, something to do with animal rights, and gazed approvingly at Nancy's yellow tracksuit. ‘You're looking fit.'

‘Looking fit, feeling knackered.' Stirring her cappuccino, Nancy said, ‘Knackered, but smug.'

‘Does it hurt?'

‘Well, when I do this.' Nancy leaned forward to put her coffee cup back on the table in front of her and winced. ‘I think this must be how it feels to be in labour.'

‘But you're still glad you decided to come here? You don't have to work yourself so hard, you know.' Mia took a slurp of mocha milkshake. ‘It isn't compulsory. You could always give the exercise malarkey a miss and just have fun.'

Nancy knew that, but it wouldn't have felt right. Mia and Connor had given her the membership and it seemed rude not to use it properly.

Well, that was the official line. The real reason was because she didn't want to appear to be angling for attention from Connor, only turning up in order to waft around the place eyeing him longingly from a distance. Which was how it
would
look, both to Connor and, even more excruciatingly, Sadie.

At least this way she could pretend she was here purely for the exercise. And it
was
fun in a masochistic kind of way.

‘I'm enjoying it.' Nancy flinched as she reached forward again for her coffee. ‘Ouch. Maybe it's easier to just hold the cup rather than keep picking it up and putting it down.'

‘Speaking of picking up.' Mia's eyes danced. ‘What d'you think of Cyanide Sadie's latest victim?'

Nancy knew all about this. The whole club had been buzzing with the news that Sadie had taken up with Antonio, the club's new personal trainer. Antonio - never,
ever
shortened to Tony - was as sleek as a seal. With his shaven head, liquid brown eyes and sinuous body he actually strongly resembled a seal. Instantly, upon his arrival at the Lazy B, he had attracted a great deal of fluttery attention from the female members of the club. Antonio was twenty-three, single and super-fit. He was also heterosexual. The fact that he waxed the hairs off his chest didn't seem to bother them in the least.

Sadie had wasted no time getting in there first. Nobody else had stood a chance. Antonio was beautiful and he was hers. Within a few days they had become an item. Mission accomplished.

If Sadie had done it to take her mind off Connor, it appeared to be doing the trick.

‘He certainly seems to have cheered her up,' said Nancy.

‘Hmm.' Mia smirked.

‘What? Isn't that a good thing?'

‘She wouldn't be quite so cheerful if she'd seen the way he was flirting with me this morning.'

‘What
?
'

Lowering her voice, Mia leaned closer and added gleefully, ‘Or the way he pinched my bum.'

‘My God! Seriously?'

‘Oh, he was serious all right. Nothing accidental about it.' Mia mimed sliding her hand behind an invisible bum, first squeezing then giving it a lascivious pinch. ‘He came behind the reception desk to pick up his booking sheet. Too much Italian testosterone, if you ask me. I slapped him away and told him he could be done for sexual harassment, but he just laughed.
That's
when he came over all flirtatious.'

‘So then what did you do?' Nancy pictured the scene: Mia giving Antonio a no-holds-barred piece of her mind and possibly a slapped face for good measure.

‘Ha, flirted back at him of course.'

‘You flirted with Antonio?' Astounded, Nancy said, ‘Do you like him?'

‘
Duh
. He's way too old for me. Plus, if a man waxes his chest hair, what other hideous bits and pieces might he secretly have waxed?
And
all he likes to talk about is nutrition and ab-curls, which is enough to do any normal person's head in.'

‘So why . . .?' Nancy broke off as she realised belatedly why Mia was flirting with Antonio.

‘Because I can,' Mia said mischievously. ‘And because it's going to have Cyanide Sadie foaming at the mouth with fury.'

Was this what was known as a death wish?

‘It's over between Sadie and Connor,' Nancy protested. ‘You don't have to hate her any more.'

Checking her watch, Mia knocked back the rest of her milkshake. ‘Are you joking? She's still bad-mouthing me - it's her mission in life to get me the sack. Anyway.' Jumping to her feet she said chirpily, ‘Compared with drawing up rotas, fighting with Cyanide Sadie's much more fun. It brightens my day.'

It was obvious that Mia had no intention of backing off. As Nancy left the club ten minutes later, Mia was behind the reception desk, swinging her blond hair and doing her flirty thing while Antonio leaned across, whispering provocatively into her ear. For a mad moment Nancy almost felt sorry for Sadie, whose advanced aerobics class was currently in progress upstairs. Then she gave herself a mental shake, because Sadie was poisonous. Plus, if she found out about Mia and Antonio, they were the ones who were going to be in need of sympathy. Not to mention hospital treatment.

Catching sight of Nancy, Mia waved and called out, ‘You just missed Dad.'

Nancy smiled and waved back. Had she?

Good
.

Except she hadn't. As Nancy turned left out of the club and began to make her way towards the tube, Connor's conker-brown Bentley pulled alongside the pavement. The passenger window slid down.

‘Hi, thought I recognised you.' Eyes sparkling, Connor leaned across from the driver's seat and beckoned her over. ‘Hop in and I'll give you a lift.'

Oh God, difficult,
difficult
. Why did he have to be so nice? Why couldn't she make herself not like him? What were those tap dancers doing in her chest?

‘No thanks, I'm fine.' Nancy shook her head, frantically searching for a feasible excuse. ‘Um, I've got my return ticket for the tube.'

Connor's mouth twitched. ‘I wasn't actually planning to charge you for the ride.'

‘But I hate wasting tickets.' Nancy pulled a regretful face. ‘And my mother always warned me not to accept lifts from strange men.'

‘I have sweeties too.' Persuasively Connor patted the glove compartment. ‘Fruit pastilles, Dime bars - you name it, I've got it.'

‘Really, I don't—' As Nancy spoke, a lorry blasted its horn behind Connor, making her jump.

‘Come on, you're holding everyone up.' Leaning across still further, Connor swung open the passenger door. ‘They all think you're a hooker now, haggling over the price.'

More horn-tooting. Oh, for heaven's sake. Hastily clambering into the car, Nancy couldn't help thinking that with her trainers, old jeans and wet hair escaping from her baseball cap, she'd be a low-rent hooker.

‘I lied about the sweets by the way,' said Connor as he pulled away from the kerb.

‘What, no Dime bars?'

‘Well, there were, but I ate them. Off out anywhere this evening?'

‘No.' The cold night air had dried out Nancy's lips; she fumbled surreptitiously in her bag for her stick of lipsalve.

‘Only I've been invited to the opening of a new restaurant on the King's Road. God knows what it'll be like.' Cruising along, Connor squeezed the Bentley between two cabs as effortlessly as if it were a wafer-thin mint. ‘Full of braying Hoorays, probably, but you never know. Could be fun. Fancy coming along?'

‘No thanks,' said Nancy, as casually as she knew how. What would be the point? Why was Connor inviting her anyway? Well, clearly because he didn't have anyone else to ask at short notice.

‘No?' Connor pretended to look hurt. ‘I'm not that awful, am I? Come on, don't be mean, you can't let me go on my own. There might be girls there after my body. Pestering me, pawing me, not giving me a minute's peace.'

‘And that would be a tragedy.'

Having pulled up at a red traffic light, Connor said, ‘What's that smell?'

‘Sorry?' Oh help, had she forgotten her deodorant?

‘Kind of fruity.' He sniffed the air. ‘Peachy?'

Phew. ‘Apricot lipsalve,' said Nancy.

‘Really? Hey, I like it. Say it again,' Connor prompted.

Now he'd turned to look at her. This was torture. Doing her best to breathe normally and not pant like a dog, Nancy repeated, ‘Apricot . . . lip . . . salve.'

Connor inhaled slowly. ‘That is so nice. Does it taste like apricots?'

Oh Lord, how was he proposing to find out? Nancy knew she couldn't handle being kissed purely in the spirit of investigative research. What if she humiliated herself, got carried away, welded her body to his and shoved her tongue down his throat then refused to let go when he frantically attempted to prise her off?

‘What's this? What are you doing?' Startled, Connor jerked his head away.