‘No, that’s not it. I think Iknowhim, but I didn’t get a chance to see his face properly.’
‘Yeah? Who d’you think he is?’
‘Stephen, my friend’s boyfriend’s brother.’ A thrill of excitement and dread zoomed down my spine as I said his name. ‘I met him at Christmas when I went to stay in England.’
‘You sure? Wouldn’t he have said “hi”?’
‘I doubt he’d be happy to see me.’
‘Why? What did you do?’ Her eyebrows lifted.
‘What makes you think I did anything?’ I batted my eyelashes innocently.
‘Elle. C’mon. Iknowyou. What happened?’
‘Hetried to break up my friend and his brother.’
‘No way, what for?’
‘My friend – you’ve heard me talk about Beth from the hotel? – thinks it’s because he was being protective and suspected her of taking advantage of Nick. She’s got a good heart.I’mmore inclined to think there was a touch of jealousy and control-freak personality motivating him.’
‘Wow. This is juicy. So, you got involved in some way?’
‘Yeah. He’d given me his number, but I used it to track down his brother for Beth by pretending I was going to go over to his place on New Year’s for a night of passion.’ My belly did a little flop as I remembered how I’d felt when he gave me his number. Just like when Justin from the football team asked meout in high school. Of course my ego was desperate to believe a gorgeous man was genuinely interested in me – but now I was older and wiser, I’d known it was because I was the only other eligible female available at the hotel. ‘I gave the address to Beth so she could find her soon-to-be boyfriend and they could reconcile and live happily ever after.’
‘Elle.’ She bit her lip. ‘You are diabolical in so many wonderful ways.’
‘Uh-huh.’ I allowed myself a smug little smile. ‘Undermined his evil schemes plus struck a blow to his ego.’
‘I still don’t think he could’ve recognised you just now though – if itwashim. I mean, why would he have intervened if he was pissed at you for standing him up?’
‘Good point. Maybe it wasn’t him - he didn’t have a beard at Christmas…Or maybe he grew one but just forgot what I looked like. It was six months ago, and he gives his number out to alotof women, I’m sure.’ Beth had told me plenty of stories about Stephen’s female visitors when she’d been staying the night with Nick at Stephen’s apartment, how she’d got used to a different woman slinking past them at breakfast time every other week. Exactly the type of behaviour I expected from a man as good-looking and arrogant as him.
I tapped my candy cane on the edge of my glass, ignoring the little twinge in my chest at the idea that he could really have forgotten me. It hadn’t exactly been a normal kind of Christmas. Maybe he hadn’t been particularly attracted to me – I’d been just one more face in the catalogue of females he thought he had to choose from – but the stuff that went on would surely have made it memorable? I mean, diabolical plan aside, at one point we ended up driving a woman in labour through a blizzard together. He’d been pretty helpful that night, actually.
Stephen was so hard to predict. I’d got this undercurrent as I spent more time with him at the hotel, that there was somethingelse going on beneath the surface than a self-satisfied banker with a silver tongue. But then he’d gone and messed things up with Beth and Nick and, like I’d said to Keisha, the jury was still out on his motivations for that. I really would have loved to figure it out. I hated leaving mysteries unsolved.
‘We should find out for definite if it’s him,’ I announced. ‘It’ll drive me mad wondering.’
‘Fine. But if he’s with his horrible friend you’re not going to join them, are you?’
‘Oh, good Lord, no. We’ll just go for a wander out on the roof garden to see if we can find a spot to enjoy our drinks. If we happen to walk past and get a good look at him that’ll be a bonus.’
Chapter Eight
Elle
We gathered our purses and went out through the wide-open double doors onto the roof garden. All the tables were crowded but they were spaced out and surrounded by long, leafy plants and glowing lanterns, creating little pockets of privacy. The height of the surrounding buildings gave it the feeling of a fishbowl, but in a nice way. It was good to feel small. It made my problems feel smaller, too. We linked arms and walked slowly down the central aisle between the square tables next to the building and the sofas with their steamer-trunk coffee tables lining the edge of the roof, checking for a spare seat.
‘He’s over there, I think. In the corner; beige sofa, surrounded by many, many yuppies,’ Keisha murmured to me and we carried on meandering, getting closer so I might be able to make out his features properly.
A tall man with dark hair and a light blue shirt was sitting on an armchair, one ankle resting on his knee, his back to the amazing view behind him, seemingly engaged in conversation with the other people in the group. As he reached for his drink he looked over. Straight at us. There was nowhere to take cover unless we dived into the shrubbery – but I wasn’t inclined to do that.
There was also no question now. Itwashim. Cartwright, Stephen Cartwright. And seeing him face to face was a jolt to my system. He looked even better than I remembered. Maybe it was the beard? It suited him.
‘Is it him?’ Keisha hissed.
‘Uh-huh.’
