“I’m sorry, Ma’am, it’s Mr. Smythe’s car and he needs to claim anything in it himself,” the valet explained.
“Firstly, how old do you think I am to be calling me Ma’am? And secondly, it’smybag!”
“If you can call him down here ma… Miss—”
“Mr. Smythe is at present,” she gritted her teeth, “dripping in red wine with women probably falling over themselves to help him.”
He frowned with confusion.
“Oh, forget it,” she huffed. “Thanks for nothing.”
The valet walked away.
“Do you always get yourself in trouble?” Holly would recognise that voice anywhere. Turning she found Ethan smiling at her.
“What’re you doing here?” she asked.
“I saw the aftereffects of your date with Shaun.” His lips twitched into a smirk.
“I guess you’re going to say, ‘I told you so’?” She dropped her fists onto her hips.
“Not at all.” The smirk grew into a full-blown smile. He might not say it, but Holly bet he was thinking it.
She pulled a face, which only made him laugh. “I’m so happy my misfortune is so amusing to you.” She couldn’t help but laugh along with him. It was better than crying.
“Why do you look like you want to go a round in the ring with the valet?” he asked.
“My luggage is in Shaun’s car.” Why did she keep leaving it with stupid men? Maybe she should forget about it and buy new clothes. Good idea if she could afford to.
“Do we need to go on another rescue mission?” He actually looked serious, like he was waiting for an excuse to take on Shaun.
“No, it’s okay. I can manage one more night without it.” At least she wasn’t dressed like a hooker, although her clubbing outfit wasn’t much better. Luckily, she had her purse, and the money she’d saved on buying another train ticket to Melbourne, she could use to catch a bus and find a cheap hostel.
“Do you have a ride?” Ethan asked.
“I’ll catch a bus.”
Ethan signalled to the valet to retrieve his car. “I’ll drive you to wherever you need to go.”
“No, that’s okay—”
“I’m happy to.” And as the car pulled up, he opened the passenger side door and waited for her to get in.
She hesitated for a moment. Was getting in his car going to be mistake number three? He was only offering her a much-needed ride, nothing more. Making up her mind, she slid onto the seat and Ethan closed the door.
“Where to?” he asked as he got behind the wheel and maneuvered his way through the light traffic.
“George Street,” she answered. Then she remembered he’d had a date. “Shouldn’t you be with Victoria Martin?”
He chuckled, “You’re using her full name too?”
“She’s a celebrity, I can’t help it. So, where’s she?”
“In the club.” His finger tapped on the steering wheel in time with the rock music playing from the car’s stereo.
“Lover’s tiff?”
He flicked her a disapproving look. “No.”
