looked up as he stood.
‘Actually, I seem to remember I said you looked stunning and that you were the most beautiful woman in the room. Which you then questioned. Of course.’ He pulled a face. ‘But having entered said room, I was immediately proved right. Of course. And now, if she would agree to it, I’d love to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room too.’
He held out his hand. I hesitated a moment, wondering what line, if any, we were crossing here. But the fact was, in front of me stood the most good-looking man I’d ever seen and he was asking me to dance. Maybe it wasn’t the most logical thing, maybe it wasn’t what sensible, risk averse Kate would do, but right now, I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be her. I wanted to be the woman in Michael O’Farrell’s arms.
‘I’d love to.’
‘I was really hoping you’d say that.’ He grinned, a flash of insecurity momentarily showing on his face. I loved that. Not that I’d caused it, but that, contrary to what he’d initially shown me, he wasn’t cocky enough to believe that no woman could say no to him.
Michael took my hand and held it firmly as we wound our way through the throngs of people and dinner tables onto the dance floor. Once there, he retained it, his other coming to rest at my waist, gentle enough to feel relaxed but firm enough for me to feel its warmth through the silk of my dress.
‘Are you having a good time?’ Michael asked, pulling me a little closer so that I could hear him over the music and general chatter.
‘I am,’ I replied. ‘Thank you for inviting me.’
He laughed. ‘Thank you for giving me a second chance.’
I shook my head. ‘You need to forget about that. We’re past it all now…aren’t we?’ I looked up at him, finding his eyes already on me.
‘Way past.’ He smiled that smile again and moved the hand at my waist, splaying his fingers, brushing my spine with the tips of them, sending sparks of heat up and down my entire body. ‘Katie, I – ’
‘Mike?’
He shifted his gaze from mine to where the voice had come from and a look of surprise replaced whatever it was he’d been looking at me with. That part I hadn’t quite figured out yet. I turned my head to see what had caused the change.
I recognised her immediately: Glamorous, elegant and stunningly, classically beautiful, Michael’s ex-wife was even more striking in the flesh than she was in the photographs.
‘Angeline.’ His voice didn’t hide the surprise, but none of us missed the cold edge of his tone. I glanced back at him. The softness had gone and in its place were the hard lines I’d been greeted with at our first meeting.
‘How are you?’ she asked him. Her eyes flicked to me and then focused fully back on him. ‘You look great.’
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked. We’d stepped apart a little but his hand was still at my waist.
‘I came with a friend. I…had no idea you’d be here.’
I studied her under my lashes in as surreptitious manner as I could employ, and I wasn’t buying that last bit at all. My eyes shifted to Michael and it was obvious immediately: He completely believed her.
‘I think I’m going to go and sit down,’ I said, pulling away.
His fingers skimmed my back and dropped away as I moved. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘Mike.’ Angeline caught his hand, stopping him. ‘I know you have every reason to turn your back on me and I don’t blame you. I know I hurt you.’ Her fingers caressed his hand, whilst he looked back at her, not encouraging, but not moving away either. ‘Please, can we have one dance? For old times’ sake?’
Michael flicked his gaze to me. I could see he was caught. He wasn’t the only one who’d seen the interested glances being thrown at the little vignette being played out here, and he wasn’t about to make a scene.
‘Go ahead. I’ll see you in a bit.’ I gave him a smile and walked away, back towards the table. A waiter passed me with a tray of champagne. I swiftly lifted one and took a sip, keeping my expression light. After all, I had no reason to be put out. The evening hadn’t started out as a date. We were just two friends having a pleasant evening. Yes, he’d been charming and for a moment out there, there’d been the hint that maybe…
I lifted the glass to my lips as my gaze found the two of them on the dancefloor. They really did make the most beautiful pair. I watched as she whispered something, and he smiled, shaking his head slowly. She responded with her own widening smile, her hands moving up his shoulders until they rested at the back of his neck. She bent her forehead against his and…
Goodness, was that the time?
Of course there wasn’t a taxi in sight as I left the hotel. The doorman and I waited, looking in vain for an available cab as he valiantly struggled against the wind and sleet with an umbrella until it finally gave up and flipped itself completely inside out, bending the spokes into something worthy of display in the Tate Modern.
‘Sorry, Miss.’ The doorman looked at me apologetically. Rain dripped from the brim of his top hat and I, dressed completely inappropriately for the weather, was now soaked completely.
‘Not to worry. I’m sure I shan’t dissolve.’ I smiled at him, even though it was really the last thing I felt like doing right now.
A taxi came into sight, its light signalling its availability. The doorman let out a two fingered, piercing whistle that cut through the whipping wind and, thankfully, caught the driver’s attention. He began signalling and pulled in front of the building, whereupon the doorman quickly opened the door for me.
‘You go home and get warm now, Miss.’
I thanked him and promised that I would, then clambered into the cab as elegantly as I could with a dress that was now completely sodden and clinging to my skin. Using my wrap to casually disguise anything that might be a little X-rated in such a state, I gave the driver my address and sat back on the seat, watching as the water dripped off my skin and dress and collected on the floor around my feet.
As we made turns, rivulets scooted off, making little puddle tributaries. I watched as they did. Concentrating on them so that I didn’t have to concentrate on anything else. But I knew I couldn’t avoid those thoughts for ever. I pulled out my phone and noticed two missed calls from Michael, and a text that just said ‘Where are you?!’
Outside the cab, London still thronged with people. There were few things that stopped this city, and rain certainly wasn’t one of them. As we sat waiting at a red light, I studied the reflections of the Christmas lights in the shiny wet pavements, the colours merging as the downpour increased in strength and droplets bounced up off the pavement. Pedestrians increased their pace, some dashing into doorways to take cover until the weather abated enough to move on.
Inside the cab, I drew my finger down the window glass, creating a line in the condensation that had begun to build on it as I steamed like dim sum in my favourite Chinatown restaurant. I looked back at my phone and opened Michael’s text again. I pressed reply.
Hi. Really tired and have an early client
