Sympathy for the Devil (11 page)

       Even if West kept quiet, I could see the cracks in his relationship growing ever stronger.
Not my fault
, I kept telling myself. When West did text me, I would always reply and ask him if he was with Toni. His silence spoke volumes. I gave it another week before I got the “
We’re broken up
” message.

       The closer my goal seemed, the more concerned I became about Miss Carina Collins. For someone who despised social media, I kept an unnaturally regular eye on hers. Seeing where she was tagged, who she’d been with... After she accepted my friendship, I trawled through photographs of her with Toni and Rick the Prick, someone named Jude Lawrence, and a variety of other friends. Popular girl. It reminded me of what Toni asserted the first time I’d met her, “Everyone likes Cari.”

       Indeed they did. Impossible not to. And with West and Toni heading to a breaking point, I saw a moment, an opportunity to be seized. I called her off the cuff.

       “Mr. Callun,” she said, with that smooth huskiness. “Who are you torturing today and why do you want to involve me?”

       “Let’s go out,” I blurted and immediately cursed my lack of composure.

       “Erm, all right. What for?”

       “A date.”

       She laughed, and every muscle in my body strained with tension.
Don’t say no. Don’t say no.
“Are you sure about that?”

       “Course I’m sure. You said we should one day. One day has come. Let’s go out.”

       “Not just a chance for you to feel me up, but a
date
date?”

       “An I’ll pick you up and everything
date
date. And I’ll feel you up only if you let me.” She’d let me.

       “Well, that’s that then. When do you want to do this?”

       “Are you busy on Saturday?”

       I heard muted clapping in the background. “Three days’ notice, good work, Pierce. I’m free.”

       My breath released in a whoosh. “Good! I’ll pick you up from halls at eight.”

       “And don’t be late.”

       “Wouldn’t want to wait.”

       “Oh, God, we’re idiots,” Cari muttered. “Let’s see how much of a disaster we’re opening ourselves up to. See you on the weekend.”

       She ended the call and I stared at my dulled phone. What did that mean? Disaster? It could never be a disaster, as long as we were honest and stopped pretending we weren’t attracted to each other. As Saturday drew closer, my nerves intensified. What if things did go wrong? What if I couldn’t avoid the spectre of previous girlfriends? What if Cari couldn’t avoid calling me a man whore and what if I couldn’t avoid calling her a cow? Saturday arrived and I found myself in cold sweats thinking,
This is a mistake... It’s a mistake.

       I went for my usual Saturday morning match with the university B team and in the pub after, I sat with some of the guys who asked me what I had plans for.

       “Cari Collins,” I said mildly.

       The whole pub exploded with male excitement. They wanted to know how I got her to go out with me, if I’d already slept with her. It made my eye pulse with rage. I brushed them all off with promises that I’d tell them another time and left to sleep off the three beers.

       By the time I got home, it was going seven in the evening and there was no time to rest. Downing a coffee and puffing on a cigarette calmed me only slightly enough to shower, shave, and pick out a suit. I called Claridge’s for them to hold the Callun table for me. My family had been dining there since the 19
^th
Century. Only fair they keep one for last-minute occasions. Just before I was ready to leave, my phone rang. My stomach plummeted, thinking Cari could be calling me to cancel. Half of me thought it would be a better idea to do it another time, when I wasn’t sick with nerves.

       I didn’t recognise the number on the screen, so it definitely couldn’t be Smurfette and answered suspiciously, “Hello?”

       “Pierce, it’s Sìle.”

       Oh, shit. “Hello.”

       “I wanted to talk to you about Rhona.”

       Double shit. “What about her?”

       “She’s come up with this fantastical idea that she’s going to stay with you for an open day at Kings College.”

       “She’s come up with it, yes. Doesn’t mean I’ve agreed to it.”

       “Well, she had to have come up with the idea somehow!” Sìle screeched.

       “Surprise, surprise, she’s a seventeen-year-old doing her A-Levels. She doesn’t need me to come up with ideas.”

       “She barely knows you!”

       “Whose fault is that?” I asked mildly, and Sìle quieted for less than a half minute.

       “She’s my child. You don’t get to say what she does and what she doesn’t do.”

       “Are you deaf? I said she comes up with her own ideas. I didn’t tell her anything. And if you spoke to her like a normal human being entirely capable of having a civilised conversation, maybe she wouldn’t make decisions behind your back.”

       “You’re just like your father,” Sìle spat. “Selfish and spoilt and rotten to the core. Stay away from my daughter.” She ended the call, leaving me holding a beeping mobile phone.

       That bitch. Had the cheek to... Had the audacity to compare me... After everything he’d done... I lit another cigarette, snatched up my keys and wallet, slamming my way out of the flat. Such bullshit. As if I’d been dealt the same cards as her precious daughter. My phone beeped again.

       Rhona:
I’m so sorry! Please don’t think...

       I barely bothered reading the rest of the long and involved message. Just sent her a reply.
Do as your mother asks. Stay away.

       I got in a cab and ordered it to Cari’s halls. Just like my father? That bitch had no fucking clue...

       I wondered what the hell I was doing. I had never been this nervous going out with someone. And given how unpredictable Pierce could be, I didn’t think alcohol would carry me sensibly through the evening.
Just don’t have sex with him
, I warned myself. I waited on the corner away from halls to make sure no one would see him picking me up. The gossip after Kate’s party had been intense enough, it would be stupid to compound it. Although the fact I’d spent three hours getting ready would give something away. My hair was freshly relaxed and straightened within an inch of its life so it sat in bouncy layers on my shoulders. I had used what was supposed to be emergency money, gone to Selfridges and bought a classic, elegant dress from Burberry. I couldn’t go mental with the shoes as well, so I went with my trusty Mulberry shoes my parents had given me on my eighteenth birthday. If Pierce took me to a dive, I’d stick the heel of the closest Mulberry in his eye.

       A taxi rounded the corner and a door flung out. “Come on then,” came Pierce’s imperious order.

       “Hello to you too,” I said mockingly, trying to step inside the taxi with a little bit of dignity, but the design of those cabs didn’t half make it impossible. I sat down next to him, inhaling the scent of Marlboros and the fragrance he wore that made him smell like a forest at night, and my stomach felt fizzy with lust and fear. I hadn’t seen him since our night in Kate’s place, and our text messages and calls didn’t quite prepare me for being next to him.

       He gave me a slow once-over. “You scrub up well.”

       I looked down at my nails and noticed the tiniest of fibres had attached itself to the surface of my index. “I thought I’d make an effort. So where’re we going?”

       “Claridge’s.”

       I gave an involuntary laugh. Is he freaking kidding me? “Suppose they keep a table open for you?”

       “The family, yes,” he replied quietly, opening the window and lighting up. Oh, good, so instead of smelling like Narciso Rodriguez, I’d smell like an ashtray.

      
Fuck, what are we supposed to talk about?
I thought in immediate panic. Did he take girls here all the time, or was I to feel lucky? I decided to do something useful, so I took my compact out of my bag and retouched my lip-gloss. I wasn’t a grown-up yet. Grown-up women use lipstick. I checked my mobile and kindly decided to put it on silent when Pierce answered a call from his own phone.

       “What?” he demanded. “I can’t. Busy… None of your fucking business. Unless… Cari, do you want to tell this dickhead what bra size you wear?”

       My jaw dropped.

       “Didn’t think so. Piss off. I’ll be at Stamford Bridge tomorrow, all right?” He ended the call then caught my expression. “Like I said, he’s a dickhead. Here we are.”

       Some sense of self-preservation told me to stay in the cab and tell the guy to take me back home. I didn’t want to do this anymore. Pierce caught me by the hand and pulled me out, holding me firmly against him while he paid the driver. The driver took off, and Pierce looked down at me. He lifted my chin with the edge of his hand then with the gentlest of touches, brushed his mouth over mine.

       “Where’d that come from?” I blustered, trying to tell my body not to get so excited.

       The corner of his mouth tilted upwards ever so slightly. “Feeling it, are we?” He caught my hand and swept me inside. It wasn’t just that. I sodding loved Gordon Ramsey and to have a meal here… I was going to be sick. We were seated at a gorgeous table. I wanted to tell the waiter we really didn’t need so many glasses, but instead I gave him a goofy smile when he took my coat. British Summer Time meant coat at all times.

       Pierce sat down, and I realised he was fully suited in a dark blue, single-breasted sharp suit that reflected in his eye colour, deepening them. He unbuttoned the jacket and as the waiter returned asked for a bottle of Bordeaux, then added, “2001.” The waiter nodded approvingly and handed us two menus.

       “Are you ordering that to show off, or you’ve actually drunk this wine and you like it?” I asked, trying not to sound disparaging, at the same time trying to see if I recognised anyone famous.

       “I always drink it,” he retorted.

       My stomach started grumbling. I would be glad to eat something, I hadn’t touched anything all day in fear. I wondered if Pierce had picked Claridge’s on purpose. The lighting made him look slightly demonic and unattainably beautiful, striking his cheekbones and pulling his mouth into a serious Calvin Klein model pout.

       “What have you been doing with yourself today, then?” I asked, trying to get conversation started.

       “Played football, had a few pints with the team, had a shower, got dressed, came here.”

      
Go for something else.
“You and West have known each other for ages, right?”

       Finally his face softened. “Since I was four. We got into a fight our first day at nursery. We were best mates from then.”

       “Did he give you a fat lip?”

       Pierce snorted. “He wishes. He hits like a girl.”

       “You’ve never been hit by me,” I warned him.

       “I’m sure being hit by someone the size of David Hale’s thigh would really hurt.”

       “I’ve got two brothers who are a lot bigger than you and I’ve knocked them both out.”

       He breathed a laugh. “I’m suitably scared now.”

       “As you should be. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

       The smile wiped from his face. “No. Do you want to order?”

       Well that was an electric fence of a
don’t cross this line
. “Sure. Can you see any scallops? I love scallops.”

       “Didn’t really see you as a scallops kind of girl.”

       “Really? What do I look like, a McDonald’s girl instead?” I replied, feeling immediately defensive.

       “I’m sure you are at three in the morning. Isn’t everyone?”

       “True,” I agreed, relaxing. The waiter took our order and poured the wine for us. I took a sip and nearly died. It felt like velvet along my throat.

       Pierce gave me a smug look. “You can tell me I’m right when you finish the glass, if that will make you feel better.”

       I really wanted to flip him the finger, but thought Gordon would not approve of diners misbehaving in his restaurant. “Good choice.”

       “Ah,” he breathed out in triumph. “Cari Collins giving me a compliment.”

       “How about I give you a slap?”

       “And upset Gordon?” he challenged. How the hell did he know? “Don’t give me that look. I’m not a complete cunt.”

       “I beg to differ,” I muttered into my wine glass. He chuckled, picking up his own wine glass. He nearly choked as a high-pitched squeal nearly blew out our eardrums.

       We turned as a blonde girl tiptoed over on her sky-high heels and flung herself over Pierce, who had the presence of mind to put his glass down before she reached our table. “Freya,” he said stiffly, pushing her from him.

       “How are you, what are you doing here?” She sounded excruciatingly excited. “You look amazing! Is that Ozwald Boateng?”

       “Yup.”

       Freya turned to me and gave me the Manhattan once-over.
Yes, darling
, I thought.
Designer head to toe
. “And you are?”

       “No one you need to worry about,” I replied with a smile, taking another sip of the wine.

       Pierce shot me a look. “What do you mean?”

       His tone put me on edge immediately. What did he think I meant? “We’re just having dinner,” I clarified.

       His eyes narrowed disapprovingly. “That doesn’t mean you’re no one.”

       I leaned back in my seat and crossed my legs. “As long as you know it’s not just your choice.”

       “Not your usual style, Pierce,” she said, a little uncertain of my attitude.

       “Do you mean not blonde?” I asked.

       “That’s one part of it,” she replied, with another once-over.

       “Is there something I can do for you, Freya?” Pierce asked bluntly. Uh oh, he had a look on his face that made me think Freya was going to regret coming over here any minute.

       “We haven’t seen you in ages.”

       “Who the fuck is we?”

       Freya started, clearly unused to Demon Callun. “Well, me and Tara and Jada. We’re going to be in our usual hotspot later, if you want to join us.”

       “Now, why the fuck do you think I have any desire to go to a pretentious, overpriced place with a few empty-headed bitches who think they can suck the champagne from my dick?”

       “Oh, my God,” I said under my breath.

       “Pierce!” Freya gasped.

       “Look, I’m out. With someone. Fuck. Off,” he emphasised.

       Freya glanced at me once and her eyes were filled with tears. She disappeared with a wail.

       I looked back at Pierce as our starter was brought over. He looked down at his phone, tapping out text messages. What the hell was this bullshit?

       “That wasn’t nice,” I said eventually.

       “She’s a stupid bitch,” he dismissed.

       “Who I’m guessing has sucked your dick.”

       He glanced up, his eyes narrowed. “So what if she has? She’s not my girlfriend, she’s not my wife. She’s not anything to me.”

       The scallops were so beautifully cooked but they tasted like rubber in my mouth. I could barely even swallow them. I felt ill. “Well, how long until I get the same treatment?”

       “Depends when you decide to suck my dick,” came the effervescent response.

       I gave Pierce a sharp look. “Why do you think you’re such a badass?”

       “Because I am,” he assured me, glancing up at the waiter as he shook a cigarette from the packet. “Cristal.”

       “Please, and thank you,” I added. Was I with a child? He started lighting up.

       “You’re not allowed to smoke in here,” I reminded him. He gave a surly shrug and I plucked the cigarette from his mouth and dropped it into his glass of water. “For someone studying the law, you should learn to obey it.”

       He looked pretty mad. “What the fuck?”

       “You just ordered Cristal. You won’t miss a single Marlboro, all right?”

       He leaned back, his lips twisted into a smirk. “You think you’re going to change me, don’t you?”

       “I just think you weren’t brought up with manners.”

       “Says the girl who let me suck on her tits after proclaiming I was an arsehole.”

       I could have chucked my water in his face. I could have waited for the Cristal and knocked homeboy out with the bottle. Instead, I did what my grandmother would have and got to my feet. “And I’m done.”

       He frowned at me disbelievingly. “Are you really leaving?”

       “Yup.” I caught the eye of the waiter. “If he does not tip you for twenty percent of the price of that bottle at the very least, I’ve memorised his card details. I will be happy to read them to you over the telephone. Good night, Pierce.”