‘Then I think what we’ve paid is fair and excellent value,’ I joke.
Jess looks at me, studying my face: it still isn’t fully relaxed or found its holiday mode. ‘Are you OK, Chloe?’ she asks. ‘You look like you don’t quite trust him yet. When I ran out that gate, I was literally about to collapse and he was very kind. Very sweet. I’ve never known a man to carry tissues on him.’
I turn away from Ben to try and be subtle. ‘Don’t you think it’s mildly weird it’s just him and us? I’ve seen this movie. It starts at airports and women get driven to the mountains. It doesn’t end well.’ Jess laughs but I sense I’ve struck a nerve and I immediately feel guilty that I’ve made her uneasy. ‘But you know, you’re a mum. I’d totally protect you, I’d let him take mefirst,’ I joke, hoping she doesn’t think my sense of humour is too warped.
‘It’s cool. We’re in trainers – we can make a run for it. I think your girl in the flip-flops will be in trouble though,’ she replies. We both laugh, and it’s tinged with relief. At least we’re bonding over the potential for disaster.
‘I’m glad to see we’ve broken the ice here,’ Ben says, interrupting the moment and offering me his hand to shake. I take it tentatively. ‘Do you have a last name, Ben?’ I ask.
‘Allbright. You’re going to get in the car and Google me, aren’t you?’ he replies, still smiling.
‘I was going to put you through Facebook first,’ I tell him, trying not to smirk at how quickly my face can be read.
‘Well, it’s spelled with two ls. My profile picture is me cuddling a cat called Pickle. It’s not my cat.’
‘So, you’re telling me you steal people’s cats and hug them. Noted,’ I say, not giving too much away, not yet, but it’s almost like he can read the lines on my forehead as I frown, see the tension in my eyes and jaw.
‘It’s my sister’s cat. There was consent.’
‘Cats can’t speak to give consent,’ I reply with a smile. He returns the grin with his eyes; shining with an unspoken understanding that he’ll need to do more to get me on side.
‘Well, welcome to Ibiza, Chloe.’
‘Thank you. That’s extremely formal.’
‘Well…I’m happy to welcome you to my island,’ he replies.
‘Do you own the island, Ben?’ I ask, tilting my head curiously.
He stops for a moment and laughs under his breath. ‘I don’t. I do own Benidorm though. They named the whole city after me as it happens.’
I don’t want to laugh even though that is quite funny, smart. ‘Are you the mayor?’
‘I am, yes.’
Up close, I can see his eyes properly: they’re blue, soft and look at me, trying to understand what I’m about, why I hold a bit of myself back. He really does look like Pedro Pascal. It’s disarming because the fantasies I’ve had about that man have always played out a tad differently in my head. The way he’s looking at me, staring at the space where my lips are slightly parted, makes me exhale gently.
‘Shall we, ladies?’ he asks, addressing us all.
‘Shall we what?’ I ask, still loathe to trust him despite his charms, and still none the wiser about what happens now.
‘Go to my car? Get to the villa. Then you can see for yourself what this is all about. Just so Chloe knows she doesn’t need to run away from me…in her trainers…’ he jokes.
I bite my lip and blush, realising he must have overheard my conversation with Jess. The man can multitask too. I’ve never seen that in a man before. He nods, a smirk at the side of his mouth hinting that he might enjoy the challenge of chasing me.We’ll see. However, as we start to walk, I also do some light leg lunges. Just in case.
6
BEN
‘What are you wearing?’ Phoebe asks me as I stand at the airport parking machine, having told the ladies to wait in my SEAT. It’s a rhetorical question as she FaceTimed me and I made the mistake of answering. ‘You could have at least made an effort? Put on some long trousers at a minimum. A T-shirt you’ve not owned since the noughties?’
‘It’s Ibiza in the summer. I’d have sweated to death,’ I reply, hating that she knows my wardrobe so well. I’m waiting behind an old lady who’s examining her euro coins one by one. I thought I was giving off a casual and approachable vibe. I didn’t want to look like some tacky tour rep with a clipboard and a flag.
‘How’s it going? Are they OK? Are they normal?’ Phoebe asks, craning to see behind me as if she’ll be able to sneak a quick look at them. ‘Last night we were discussing how maybe we should have vetted these women more. We could have sent you absolute psychos.’
I raise my eyebrow that she’s mentioning this now, when these women are already sitting in my car. ‘Well, Jess came storming out the gate and vommed everywhere which was agood start. She seems nice though. Zara looks very excited, but the one called Chloe isn’t entirely convinced. She wouldn’t even let me help with her bag.’
‘In case you were just going to make a run for it with her bikinis and travel shampoo?’
