Page 112 of Unapologetic Love Story

She wished they were back in the snug. She wished they’d never been disturbed.

As if reading her mind, Tom bent to speak low in her ear. ‘I want to take you home now. Just us. I want to take you to bed and make you come, and then we’ll order something. And talking to you about nothing will be more interesting than talking to every other person in this room about something.’

Raina smiled and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. ‘Not your place?’

‘It’s not a home; it’s just a den. I’m going to sell it and buy somewhere for us. Where do you want to live, Raina? I’ll find us somewhere beautiful.’

She lifted her head to stare at him. ‘You’d do that for me?’

‘Of course,’ he said, looking down at her as they swayed. As if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if he were offering to pick up some milk. ‘I’d do anything for you.’

Raina felt the full force of his feelings, as well as her own, and it overwhelmed her. She could still feel Ottie’s cold eyes on them, so as the music slowly faded out and the DJ moved to take a ten-minute break, she said, ‘Can we go to the garden? Bit of a sensory overload in here.’

‘Of course.’

As he turned to escort her out, another guest quite accidentally bumped into a waiter. The brief collision sent an entire tray of champagne glasses tumbling to the floor. The sound of the crystal breaking and the spatter of liquid made Raina jump and the entire room fell silent.

For a moment, there was only the sound of the waiter apologizing profusely. Tom was starting to bend down to help clear some of the broken shards when a voice spoke.

‘Raina can clean it up.’

The words caused both Tom and the waiter to stop, and for everyone, Raina included, to turn towards the bar. Ottie Langham had spoken the words with piercing projection and ice-cold clarity. As if venom and pain had sobered her up and left her ready to burn everything down.

‘What did you just say?’ Tom asked, his voice harsher than Raina had ever heard it before.

‘I said . . .’ Ottie stepped forward, fired up by the silent room and the rapt attention of its occupants. ‘Raina can clean it up.’

Raina swallowed. She could feel hundreds of people watching her. She felt their confusion. Or perhaps that was just her. Maybe the feeling was so intense it was filling every part of her. She glanced at the crowd around her but she couldn’t read their expressions. It reminded her of being assessed and shown picture cards of different faces. She hadn’t known how to describe what they were emoting.

It felt like that now. She felt the A on her forehead, for all to see.

‘Ottie.’ Tom addressed his friend once more, and his voice was low and chilling. ‘You must be out of your mind. To say something like that.’

‘Did you know that about your little work project?’ Ottie asked loudly, her voice carrying well throughout the room. ‘That she used to be a cleaner? Used to scrub other people’s dirt?’

Seb started to make his way towards his fiancée. When he tried to whisper in her ear, she shoved him away.

‘That’s what she is though, right, Tom? Your work project?’

‘No,’ Raina corrected her.

‘No,’ Tom echoed. ‘And we’re leaving. You don’t get to speak to her like that.’

‘I’m not his work project,’ Raina said, as Tom caught her hand in his.

‘Oh, yes, you are,’ Ottie shot back. ‘I’ve seen the writing on the wall. Literally. He has this huge board—’

‘Enough,’ snapped Tom, pulling at Raina’s hand. ‘Let’s go. She’s drunk.’

‘Her mother is a drunk, not me. An alcoholic. That’s on his board. That true, Raina? Does your family like a drink? Because he’s planning to write about that. What else? Oh! Yes! Some lovely quotes, too.’

‘Oh, God,’ Solana gasped.

‘Shut your poisonous mouth, Ottie,’ Pepper barked, appearing behind Raina. ‘Or I’ll fucking shut it for you.’

Ottie whipped her smartphone out of her bedazzled clutch and swiped through some photographs. Raina was as lifeless and as still as some of the marble statues adorning the perimeter of the room. She could barely think, let alone react. This felt like the most painful assault, both physically and psychologically. They were all just standing there. Staring at her like she was some sort of creature.

‘Here,’ Ottie said, flashing a picture on her phone screen. She zoomed in and started to read, ‘I think it’s gross hearing disabled people talking about sex, sorry. I just do. Wow, Tom. Also, something about your hair being too long. Something about you being boring.’