Effortless (19 page)

“Seriously? You’re not going to tell me?”

He looked at me in that way he had, with dominance and yearning and desire. Nothing fired me up more.

“Patience, Lia. I’m not through with you yet.”

I swallowed. Hard. “There’s more?”

Dropping the blanket, he approached with purpose, dominating my line of sight and all but making the Eiffel Tower look pedestrian next to his magnificent physique. My already wobbly thighs and shaky knees from our round of love making failed me. I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself.

“Your touch,” he whispered, leaning his forehead to mine, “is my weakness and my strength.”

The warmth of his hands on my skin quickened my pulse.

“Dance with me.”

My shy laugh surprised me. “There’s no music.”

“Then it’s perfect.” He held me close and we swayed to the sounds of Paris of night, sheltered by the lights of the Eiffel Tower. I never wanted this night to end. I never wanted him to let me go. If this is what he was capable of for my birthday I could only imagine what he had in store for our wedding. I couldn’t wait.

“When did you become such a romantic?” I asked.

He chuckled. “I had no idea I was one. I just wanted to make you happy.”

I looked up at him, at his handsome face, mesmerizing eyes and shy smile. This was one of those moments where I needed to be pinched to make sure it was real. I held him tighter, resting my head on his chest and losing myself in him with every breath I took.

“Alastair?”

“Yes, my love.”

“I never did find that lock to go with the key you gave me.”

His cheek brushed mine as he smiled. “Yes you did.”

Lively conversation and raucous laughter filled every corner of the pub as I sat at my table, sipping sparkling wine. Post-show food and beverages were exactly what the doctor ordered for this Friday night after a long day at work. Also, I was finally getting to see Stephanie. She’d been radio silent since appearing at my front door on Tuesday, drenched and crying. In true Stephanie fashion, she’d glossed over missing my birthday by blaming it on ‘the twenty-four hour flu’ and apologizing left and right. Oh, and she also nonchalantly let me know that she was not, in fact, pregnant.

I had no idea what was going on inside my best friend’s head.

“Paris,” she said with a dreamy look in her eye. “I’m so jealous. Where is he anyway? Why aren’t you guys attached at the hip?”

“He’s at a client dinner with some of his staff. I’d rather hang out with you.” I smiled, ignoring her last comment.

“He doesn’t care that you’re not with him?”

“It’s a business dinner. I’d be bored out of my skull.”

She shrugged, glancing at the menu. Something about her demeanor wasn’t right. She appeared almost…offended? My suspicions about her budding friendship, or whatever the hell
that
was, with Olivia grew. Steph had a good head on her shoulders but she was also gullible and loved to take other people’s words as gospel. She’d done it over the summer when her boss, Cassie, filled her head with negative gossip about Alastair.

“Why does it matter to you that I’m not with him?” I asked, unable to curb my annoyance.

She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t. I just figured he’d want you with him. Guys like that usually want their pretty significant others at their side. You know, like Nathan did.”

“Whoa,” I said, holding up my hands. “I’m not an ornament for him to show off and he’s nothing like those guys, especially that asshole. You know that. What’s gotten into you?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know. A lot’s been going on with me and Brent and everything and I just don’t…I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Is someone filling your head with this crap? Because you’ve never said these things to me before.” I clenched my fists. “Is it Olivia?”

Stephanie sighed and bowed her head. “Like I said. A lot’s been going on with all that. I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“You would tell me if she said something, right?”

“Of course.” Her smiled appeared forced. “There’s just a bunch of crap I need to sort out in my own head.”

“Are you still going to the shower tomorrow?” I asked and then took a healthy sip of wine.

“I suppose.” Her shoulders slumped as she tilted her head to the side. “I wish you’d come.”

“I love you like a sister—” I put my hand on my heart “—but I am not voluntarily going anywhere near that girl. She’s nuts.”

“The whole…
thing
that happened with her and you the other day was a—” she struggled to find the words “—a…she won’t do that again.”

“What are you, a double agent?” I laughed. “How do you know?”

“She feels bad.”

“She got caught and was escorted away. She doesn’t feel bad. Her ego was wounded.” I downed the rest of my wine and reached for my purse. “I’m getting a refill. Want one?”

“Sure.”

Something was up with my best friend and if I had to pry it out of her using sparkling wine, I would. I scrolled through my phone while waiting for the bartender. I had a text waiting for me from Alastair.

8:02pm How’s girl’s night?

8:25pm OK

8:26pm You sure?

8:27 Yep

8:28pm Hurry up and come home so I can get you naked

I laughed, putting the phone back in my purse.

“Hi, Lia.”

I looked up, shocked to see Emma standing in front on me.

“Emma. I thought you’d be back in London by now.”

“So did I. Found out a friend of mine is performing later tonight at one of the clubs downtown so I thought I’d stick around and check out his show.” She waved the bartender over. “What are you having?”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’m here with a friend and—”

“It’s not a bother. We got off on the wrong foot this week and I want to make it up to you. My treat. What would you like?”

“I don’t think—”

“Look. If we’re going to be working together we should at least be civil to one another.” The way she looked at me gave me pause. She seemed genuine but I could see distrust hovering behind those smoky violet eyes. In the bizarro world that had now become my life, I let her buy us the drinks.

She ordered and followed me back to the table. Stephanie looked as surprised as I felt when she saw us.

“Steph, Emma. Emma, Steph,” I said, taking my seat.

I could not for the life of me wrap my brain around the fact that I was hanging out with Emma Whelan when only minutes before I’d been brushing off my best friend’s attempts at trying to convince me that Olivia Garrison wasn’t the spawn of Satan. The other wacky thing? The three of us were actually enjoying ourselves. Blame it on the alcohol but after a couple of rounds, Stephanie loosened up and Emma had us both in stitches with some of her work stories. She never mentioned any specific names but some of her more famous clients were quite the handful.

“So, he was fired from the series and left the business completely,” Emma said. “I think he owns a pet shop now or something.”

“All because he posted pictures of his bare ass online?” Stephanie asked.

“Bare ass and full frontal. He was trying to impress a girl.” Emma lowered her voice, putting her index finger and thumb close together. “Not very impressive.”

Our table erupted into laughter. I finished my glass of sparkling wine, enjoying the fuzzy warmth that was spreading through me. The server walked over, dropping off a round of shots.

“Courtesy of that table over there,” she said.

All three of us looked in the direction she pointed and saw a group of college aged guys watching us with eager anticipation.

“Ooh, frat boys,” Stephanie mused.

We waved in thanks and went back to our conversation.

“Ladies. Having a good time tonight?” one of the guys asked in a slight southern drawl. We hadn’t noticed him approach us. “Where y’all from?”

Emma answered first. “London. Thanks for the drinks.” She picked up a shot glass and handed it to me, then passed one to Stephanie.

“All three of you are from London?” The blondish frat boy grinned, motioning for his friends to join.

Stephanie downed her shot. “Nope. Florida here—” she pointed to herself “—and—” she pointed to me “—there.”

I lifted my shot glass in a greeting before drinking it. What the hell did they send us? Gasoline? The strong liquid burned going down my throat. I made a little noise, thankful the sounds of the pub drowned it out.

“North Carolina here. We’re studying abroad for the semester.”

“Exciting.” Stephanie widened her eyes. I knew she was over-exaggerating with the flirting. She got a kick out of younger guys and these boys couldn’t be any older than twenty.

Frat boy took her ‘interest’ as an invitation to stick around. Emma and I exchanged glances.

“We’ve actually got to be going,” Emma said, standing up.

“Where to? Hot girls like you must know of a few places in this city.” Frat boy looked expectantly at her.

“A concert. Gotta run.” She motioned for Stephanie and me to follow her and we left the college guys in the dust. “Do you two want to come with me?” she asked when we walked outside.

“Who’s playing?”

“A friend of mine fronts a band called Before Day. They’re in town for the weekend. Do either of you like Keane or Coldplay or anyone like that? Their style is similar.”

Stephanie scrunched up her nose. “Not really.”

“I’m okay with it.” I shrugged.

“It’s up to you two. I’d be more than happy to have some company and I’m sure the boys would appreciate more people in the crowd.”

* * *

There wasn’t enough room in this place for an amoeba to move, let alone the three of us. I don’t know why Emma made it sound like this band needed a bigger audience. The place was packed, sweaty and louder than anything I’d experienced in a long time. The band was already into their set on a small stage bathed in lavender lighting. Emma guided us through the crowd toward the left side of the stage. We stood against the wall as it vibrated from the bass and drums.

These guys weren’t bad at all. The lead singer had that smoldering magnetism that could propel them to worldwide fame. His voice was low and smooth, with a hint of a rasp when he hit certain notes. Clad in jeans, t-shirt and black leather jacket, he owned the stage. Even Stephanie looked a little smitten with the dark haired singer. She had that familiar glint in her eye when she’s bowled over.

I guess things with Brent aren’t so shiny and fabulous
.

“Is that your friend?” she asked Emma, raising her voice to be heard above the music.

Emma nodded. “His name is Colin. Fantastic vocalist.”

When the next song started, some of the women in front of the stage cheered and waved their arms in an effort to get Colin to notice them. This song was slower. Not quite a ballad but not as raucous as the last one. In true rock star fashion, Colin serenaded the ladies in the front, coming down on one knee to sing directly to them. When he stood, his piercing blue eyes swept through the crowd. The venue was small so it’s possible he was able to see most of the people. Striding toward the side of the stage we were standing closest to, he made eye contact with me, then Emma, then Stephanie. He winked in Emma’s direction and carried on with the song.

Stephanie grabbed my arm and mouthed, “He’s so hot.”

I gave her a look.

“We’ll talk,” she mouthed.

After the concert ended, Emma led us behind the building where the band was hanging out by a tour bus. Again, I was surprised at how nonchalant Emma had been about their success. Scantily clad girls hovered by the fence, recording every move the band made with their smart phones and screaming their names in the hopes of being plucked out of the crowd.

“Emma.” Colin wrapped her a hug. “Thanks for postponing your trip home.” He slung an arm over her shoulders and smiled at Stephanie and me. “Introduce me to your friends?” The way his English accent hugged every syllable was mesmerizing.

“This is Lia,” she gestured in my direction, “and her friend Stephanie. I sort of gatecrashed their night and dragged them here with me.”

“Did she feed you the line that we needed a bigger audience?”

I laughed. “As a matter of fact, she did.”

Colin shook his head with a grin. “She loves throwing herself into her work.”

“Is she your publicist?”

“Unofficially. We’ve been trying to build a decent fan base so we can get signed. I can’t tell you how many labels have passed on us.”

One of the other band members sauntered over and introduced himself as Paul. He also offered us each a beer.

“So what are two Americans doing living here in Glasgow?” Colin asked, looking pointedly at Stephanie. She seamlessly adjusted her stance, cocking her left hip provocatively and running a finger up the beer bottle’s neck. I knew this pose. She was going in for the kill.

“Lia is engaged to Alastair Holden,” Emma interjected. “Stephanie works for Sarah at Finley’s.”

I stiffened at Emma’s choice to introduce me as his fiancée first, without mentioning that I also had a moderately important job in the city. It made me feel like the arm candy the papers described me as being.

“Holden, huh? Haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him but our manager has tried to get us signed to their label. No luck yet.”

Emma looked at me expectantly. I started to feel uncomfortable and wondered if she only brought me here to act as a back door for getting her friend a record deal. She knew Alastair. Why didn’t she just hit him up for a favor?

“These beautiful ladies don’t want to talk business,” he said, winking at Stephanie. “Come back to our hotel for some post-gig drinks and a little something to eat.”

I thought Stephanie’s fingers were going to puncture through my skin she was grasping me so hard.

“I have an early flight, I can’t. Sorry.” Emma frowned turning to us. “I do have to be going. Do you want to share a taxi? I’m only staying in the West End.”

I was about to answer when Stephanie clamped down harder on my arm. I knew she wanted to go to the after party. “I think we’re going to stick around a little bit longer.”

Emma looked at my best friend and grinned. “Have fun.”

Without much fanfare, she kissed Colin goodbye, thanked Stephanie and I for hanging out with her and disappeared into the night. I really wanted to go home but Stephanie kept making eyes at Colin in between giving me her pouty look.

“We’ll go for a little while,” she pleaded with me while winking at the singer. “It’s Friday. It’s not like we have to be up early tomorrow.”

“What about Brent,” I whispered. “You were all hot and heavy with him a week ago. That visual is burned in my memory for life. Is he taking a backseat suddenly because some singer made googly eyes at you?”

Her grip pinched my arm as she dragged me closer to the building. “I’m not seeing him anymore. After the whole pregnancy scare I reevaluated my relationship status and decided it was best to move on. I’m not looking for something long term right now.”

Typical.

“So why are you still going tomorrow?”

She pushed out a sigh. “I don’t know. I feel bad for her. She’s, like, this mousy little thing who—”

“Stop talking,” I interrupted. “Just stop. If you want to bang the band guy, do it. I’m not letting you go to some seedy hotel by yourself though.”

“I’m not a child, Lia. For crying out loud, you ran off with Alastair to that remote cottage when you were shitfaced. You’d known him for what, ten seconds? And how do you think I felt after you passed out cold and stayed here an extra day? Do you think I liked leaving you behind in a foreign country? He could have been a serial killer.”

“Okay. Alright.” I put my hands up in retreat. “You’ve made your point.”