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He has a sudden desire to talk to her, to turn on the charm and win her over – even though she’d been standoffish this afternoon. But that was then. And everyone knows, at work there are roles to play, rules to observe. It’s a philosophy he lives by: that fortune never favours the fainthearted – and if she laughs in his face, he can take rejection. Right now, he has absolutely nothing to lose.
But for now, duty beckons in the form of his father’s party – and anyway, she’s with someone. Outside, after finding a taxi, as they get in, Forrest isn’t in the mood. His father’s parties are always the same – a predictable gathering of work colleagues and rich friends, none of whom, apart from Joe, Forrest has any desire to associate with.
‘We’re frigging late.’ Squinting, Joe tries to focus on his watch.
‘Only an hour or so. There’ll be so many people there, no-one will notice.’
As it turns out, he’s right. Arriving an hour late, they find the drive already packed with cars even more ostentatious than his. Forrest shakes his head, telling himself they’ll stay long enough to wish his father a happy birthday, maybe talk to one or two people, before he and Joe get the hell out and carry on their celebration somewhere else.
Getting out of the taxi, they find the front door open, the rooms empty, the spacious hallway ludicrously decked out with extravagant flower arrangements.
‘Where’s the party?’ Joe looks baffled.
‘In a marquee.’ His father wouldn’t want the wear and tear on his preposterously expensive white carpets. ‘This way.’
Adjoined to the house, the marquee is no less lavishly decorated. Slipping between the guests, as Forrest looks around for his father, a voice comes from behind him.
‘Forrest, darling.’ Cassandra, his father’s PA, is impossibly glamorous in a silver dress that looks as though it’s been sprayed on.
‘Hi.’ Forrest kisses the cheek she proffers. ‘Seen the old man?’
‘I wish.’ Cassandra looks wistful. ‘But sadly, no.’
Forrest hesitates. For the last three years, he’s watched his father playing Cassandra, promotion dangled like a carrot on a stick, his ego revelling in her unsubtle attempts to suck up to him. Forrest’s always turned a blind eye. He knows his father has no intention of promoting her. But it’s how these things go sometimes. And Cassandra’s a smart woman. If she hasn’t see through it, it’s hardly his problem.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Joe, already surrounded by a group of colleagues, but everyone likes Joe. He’s one of the good guys.
Catching sight of Athena, he finds himself thinking of the hotel room. Coming over, she kisses him on the cheek. ‘How nice to see you, Forrest.’ She gives him a look as if to silence him.
‘I’m glad you’re here.’ He holds Athena’s gaze, suddenly thinking of the damage she’s done – all in the name of having a good time. ‘I went to the hotel this afternoon. I saw first-hand what you did to that room and…’
Athena stiffens. ‘Forrest, not here.’
As he stares at Athena, suddenly it’s like looking in a mirror. Athena’s selfish, utterly ruthless; only in it for herself, as are most of the people here. ‘Ah. But you don’t want yourhusbandtoknow, do you?’ Behind her, Forrest watches her husband coming towards them.
‘Shut up,’ she hisses. ‘For fuck’s sake. What’s the matter with you?’
Throwing his head back, Forrest laughs out loud. ‘With me? You really do have a nerve. Trying to con a small business out of the money you owe them, all so your husband won’t find out you’re shagging someone else? And you’re suggesting there’s something wrong withme?’
‘Find out about what?’ Joining them, her husband frowns. ‘Darling? What exactly is this man talking about?’
‘Arsehole.’ As she slaps Forrest, the sound echoes through the marquee.
As everyone falls silent, you could have heard a pin drop. As he stands there, Forrest has no idea what’s happening to him. Here’s Athena, having paid him to defend her insupportable behaviour. And yes, he’d agreed, but it’s like a light has been switched on. Joe wouldn’t have done it. But no-one would have asked him to. Standing there, he just stares at her. She’s right. He is a complete arsehole. And he isn’t the only one, is he?
Turning, seeing the faces staring at him, he pushes through them in search of Joe, on the way passing Cassandra again. He stops, suddenly on a mission as the alcohol goes to his head. ‘Cassandra? You’re a lovely woman. You don’t belong here.’
‘You’re drunk, Forrest.’ She looks furious. ‘And how dare you? Go home – before you say something you’ll regret.’
Needing no further encouragement, he goes over to Joe and nudges his arm. ‘Mate? Can we go?’
Joe looks perplexed. ‘We’ve only just got here.’
Adamant, Forrest shakes his head. ‘We should never have come.’
Across the marquee, he notices his father coming towards him, no doubt intending a display of faked fatherly love for thebenefit of his audience, and Forrest realises he isn’t up for it – tonight, or any other night. His father doesn’t care. He never has, never will.
Leaving Joe standing there with his mouth open, Forrest marches into the house and out the other side onto the drive, already reaching into his pocket for his phone to call a taxi.
