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His whole night had been upended all because of this ‘Mary from London’, who meant precisely nothing to him.
Costa glanced up as she made her way back. He did not stand as she approached. In fact, it was only when she reached for her purse that he spoke. ‘He’s gone.’
Mary assumed he meant that Eric had gone to the restroom and that his security men had accompanied him. Of course she did not tell Costa of her plan to flee. Instead, she quickly came up with a reason to be reaching for her purse, even if she had no make-up either on her face or in it!
‘I forgot my lipstick.’
‘Mary,’ he said, in a rather world-weary voice that had her looking over at him. ‘Ridgemont hasn’t just gone to the restroom—he has left for the night.’
And it would seem that Costa Leventis was doing the same, for he was standing now.
Goodness, he really was tall.
Mary was five foot two, plus her borrowed six-inch heels, yet he still stood head and shoulders above her.
‘Is he waiting for me...?’ she asked, her eyes glancing to the exit, envisaging Ridgemont pacing in the lobby waiting for her and, even worse, angry, especially if he and Costa had just had a row.
‘No, I told him about a party taking place in Soho—it’s invitation-only. I’m supposed to be joining him there later.’
‘Oh.’
‘It’s not the sort of party where one generally arrives with a date.’
Double oh!
Thank goodness!
She had no idea what had just occurred and she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to find out. Still, it was obvious the night was over—and she was clearly the worst escort in the world, for she hadn’t even been paid. The thought came as a relief—her regretful brief foray into this world was officially over and done with.
She had walked into the restaurant with Ridgemont and was walking out with Costa, but her legs were shaky, for she was still unsure as to what had happened in between.
Actually, she felt a little ill.
‘I’ll say goodnight,’ Costa said, and moved to head off and return to the quiet table he had reserved at the bar before Ridgemont had attempted to railroad him.
Except then Costa was suddenly cross, and turned and faced her. ‘I’m going to tell you something, “Mary from London”.’ He pointed one of his beautifully manicured fingers at hers. ‘Don’t mess with the big guns. Don’t play games when you don’t know the rules.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she attempted. ‘And actually my name is Mary Jones.’
‘I don’t need your name,’ Costa said, but for clarity’s sake put things more bluntly. ‘Just know this—I saved your ass tonight.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘EXCUSEME!’MARYblustered at his crude words.
But Costa was non-repentant and he repeated himself. ‘I just saved your ass.’
‘Look, I’m not sure what you’re referring to,’ she attempted, trying to spare herself the shame of being outed as a paid-for date. ‘If things were a bit strained earlier then it was because Eric and I were both a bit flustered—I was late... I missed my bus...’
Her voice trailed off at his slight eyebrow raise. Possibly, Mary realised, if she were really in a relationship with Eric they would have arrived together—and certainly not via public transport.
And so, in a vague, misplaced stab at redemption, she used Coral’s description of him. ‘He’s a sweetheart.’
‘Really?’ An incredulous smile spread on Costa’s lips. ‘Then I apologise for the misunderstanding. I told Ridgemont the party invitation was strictly for one.’ He had long since refused to be on first name terms with that man. ‘But I can easily let him know I’ve added you to the guest list if you want to join him...’
He watched dull colour spread from her neck to her cheeks, but there was dignity in her reply.
‘That won’t be necessary.’
