Two-Faced (21 page)

‘Look, I’m sure you’ve got your reasons for being pissed off,’ she said, ‘but if he’s paid what he owes, just let him go before this gets out of hand.’

‘Something wrong here?’ a deep voice asked.

Glancing round, Mia was relieved to see the doorman standing behind her. But just as she was about to tell him that, yes, something
was
wrong, that this idiot was trying to kill her friend, the skinhead released Bruno and said, ‘Nah, it’s all cool, Vern. I was just having a quiet word with my mate – isn’t that right, Bru?’

Bruno nodded quickly.

Casting a hooded glance at the two girls who, Mia noted, now looked terrified, Vern said, ‘All right, but keep the noise down.’ Then, instead of walking away, he turned to Mia, saying, ‘The boss would like a word.’

‘About what?’ she asked, instantly on the defensive.

‘You’ll have to ask
him
that,’ Vern said, gesturing with a nod towards the bar.

Turning, Mia saw two white men staring at her from the tall bar stools.

‘Go see what he wants,’ Bruno said quietly, giving her a little shove. ‘I’ll just sort out what I came for.’

‘Are you mad?’ she asked. ‘After what he’s just done to you?’

‘We’re fine now. Go. I can handle this.’

Flashing a warning glance at the skinhead, who grinned back at her and shrugged in a gesture of innocence, Mia pursed her lips and headed off to see what the so-called boss wanted with her.

Like Vern, both of the men at the bar appeared to be in their thirties, but while one was bald and really quite ugly the other was strikingly good-looking. His dark eyes had a slight Oriental slant to them which she found quite sexy, and his nose had a tiny kink on the bridge, which she presumed to be from an old break – again, quite sexy. The only thing that let him down was his hair, which was tied back in a ponytail. That was really uncool, in her opinion, but she supposed that
his
generation probably considered it quite ‘hip’.

‘Your friend told me you wanted a word,’ she said now, speaking directly to him.

He smiled, and jerked his head at the other man, who immediately climbed off his stool and walked away.

‘No, you’re all right,’ Mia said when he gestured for her to sit down. ‘I’m not staying.’

Pulling a disappointed face, he said, ‘Surely you’ve got time for one little drink with a friend?’

‘We’re not friends.’

‘Steve Dawson.’ He held out his hand.

Sighing, because she really didn’t see the point in introductions when she had no intention of staying, Mia unfolded her arms and shook his hand out of politeness.

‘What, no name?’

‘Mia Delaney,’ she told him, sliding her hand out of his.

‘Nice.’ Steve smiled. ‘And what does
Mia Delaney
like to drink?’

Feeling unusually flustered, Mia shifted her weight onto her other foot. ‘Sorry, I really haven’t got time.’

‘Let me guess,’ Steve said, as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Rum and coke?’

Amused by his persistence, Mia said, ‘Whisky and ginger, actually. But that doesn’t mean I want one.’

It was too late. Steve had already clicked his fingers at the bar girl and ordered Mia a drink. Gesturing towards the vacant stool again, he said, ‘You might as well sit down now you’re staying. Unless you’re planning on drinking and running – which would be a bit rude, don’t you think?’

Glancing back and seeing that Bruno seemed to be deep in conversation with the skinhead, Mia sighed. ‘Okay, but just
one
, because we’ll be leaving as soon as my friend’s . . .’ Catching herself before she revealed the real reason for their visit here and got them thrown out or arrested, she blurted out the first thing that came into her head, ‘We only dropped in so my friend could invite someone to a party.’

‘Really?’ Steve’s gaze slid smoothly from Mia’s face to her thighs as she sat down and crossed her legs. ‘And will
you
be going to this party?’

‘Er, no, it’s not my kind of thing,’ Mia muttered, surreptitiously tugging the hem of her skirt down. She was used to being in control when she met a man, but this one was making her nervous. It could just be that she was getting high off the smoke she’d been inhaling since they’d arrived, or the fact that he was older and more self-assured than the guys she usually got chatted up by. But, either way, his sexy eyes were doing funny things to her stomach. She cleared her throat to try and regain her composure and said, ‘I thought you wanted a word about something?’

‘Can’t a man ask a beautiful woman to join him for a drink without needing an excuse?’ Steve drawled, pushing her glass towards her when the bar girl served it. ‘So, when are you free for dinner? Tomorrow’s good for me.’

Mia took a sip, and coughed when it went down the wrong way. ‘
Sorry?
’

‘I’ll need an address,’ Steve went on smoothly. ‘So I know where to pick you up from. Seven-thirty all right?’

‘I, er – no, not really.’ Recovering, Mia shook her head. ‘I’m working, and I don’t get home till gone six.’

‘Ah . . . and you’ll need at least two hours to get ready if you’re a typical woman. Why don’t we say half-eight instead?’

Flattered that he seemed determined not to take no for an answer, Mia couldn’t help but smile.

‘Wow, that’s a pretty sight,’ Steve murmured. ‘Ever thought of modelling?’

Coyly tilting her head to one side now, Mia said, ‘I already do, actually.’

‘Should have guessed,’ he purred. ‘Face like yours would be wasted on anything else. So, what are you working on at the moment?’

‘Nothing special.’ She shrugged, trying to appear modest in case he thought she was boasting. ‘Just some catwalk thing.’

Narrowing his eyes, Steve said, ‘Wouldn’t happen to be that thing they’re advertising at the G-Mex, would it?’

‘Mmm.’ Nodding, Mia sipped at her drink.

‘Really?’ Steve seemed genuinely impressed. ‘So, I’m taking a bona-fide fashion model out for dinner. Can’t be bad.’

Before Mia could remind him that she hadn’t actually agreed to go out with him yet, she noticed Bruno waving at her from a few feet away. He had a
hurry up!
look on his face, and his body language said that he was desperate to get moving.

She said, ‘Sorry, I’ve got to go,’ finished her drink and reached for her handbag.

‘Address?’ Steve said, placing his hand over hers.

On her feet now, Mia looked at him thoughtfully. He really was quite sexy, and just because he managed a sleazy place that didn’t mean he was a sleazy person. So could it really hurt to have dinner with him?

Impulsively, she took a pen out of her bag and scribbled her number on his hand. ‘Call me. I’ll let you know if I want to go out when I’ve had a chance to think about it.’

Steve winked at her and was smiling as she walked away.

‘What the fuck are you playing at?’ Bruno hissed when they got outside, sounding both angry and scared.

‘What’s your problem?’ Mia demanded, irritated that he thought he had a right to talk to her like this.

‘You and that man,’ Bruno snapped, already setting off down the road. ‘I told you to go and see what he wanted, not start drinking with him.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, don’t tell me you’re jealous!’ Mia snorted. ‘Anyone would think I was your girlfriend and you’d just caught me cheating on you. Sorry,
boyfriend
,’ she corrected herself sarcastically.

‘What were you talking about, anyway?’

‘Not that it’s any of your business, but he asked me out to dinner,’ Mia told him peevishly. ‘Is that okay with you, or should I have waited to get your permission?’

‘Mia, look around,’ Bruno said, his own eyes darting nervously every which way. ‘This is not the kind of place to go picking up men.’

‘Oh, but it’s all right for you to come here picking up drugs?’

‘That’s different. What you’re doing is dangerous.’

‘Don’t make me laugh!’ Mia snorted. ‘
You
nearly got strangled –
I
got asked out to dinner. Which sounds the most dangerous to you? Hmm . . . let me think!’

‘I’m being serious,’ Bruno snapped, relieved when they rounded the corner onto the well-lit main road. ‘Look, you know I’ve got no problem with you shagging every man from here to Kingdom Come. Christ, I’ve even had a few of them myself when you’ve finished with them.’

‘Don’t be disgusting! I don’t sleep with gay men.’

‘Honey, you haven’t got a clue.’

‘All right, name them. Come on, I need to know in case I bump into any of them again and fancy a bit.’

Tutting, Bruno stuck out his arm when he saw a black cab. ‘Jon, Neil, and Foxy – if you must know.’

‘You
tart
!’ Mia gasped, staring at him in disbelief as the cab pulled up. ‘You know how much I liked Foxy.’ Frowning now, she said, ‘Which one was he again?’

‘Oh, and
I
’m the tart?’ Bruno scoffed, shoving her onto the back seat.

Giving him a funny look as he climbed in after her, Mia wondered if that was why he liked going out clubbing with her – so that he could pick up the men she’d discarded in order to console them in his own inimitable way.

After he’d told the driver where to take them, Bruno sat back and whispered, ‘Anyway, you can’t go out with Steve Dawson. He’s dangerous. You know my friend back there at the club?’

‘Didn’t look like much of a friend to me,’ Mia sniped. ‘Friends don’t generally try to strangle each other – tempting though it is in your case.’

‘Oh, Robbo’s a crack-head, and he flips out like that sometimes,’ Bruno said, flapping his hand dismissively. ‘As long as I get my baggy, I don’t give a shit. Anyway, he saw you making eyes at Dawson and told me to warn you off.’

‘I was
not
making eyes at him.’

‘Bitch, you so were. You forget I know your M.O. Tilting head, gazing up through the lashes, twiddling with the hair . . .’

‘
Ew
, have you been studying me, you strange little boy?’

‘All right, make a joke of it if you must,’ Bruno said huffily. ‘But don’t say I didn’t warn you if you go ahead with this dinner and end up regretting it.’

‘Oh, stop being such a drama queen,’ Mia laughed softly. ‘He’s a nice man.’

‘Honey,
nice
men don’t own lap-dancing clubs and deal class A drugs.’

‘Says the boy who
goes
to a lap-dancing club to
buy
his class A drugs.’

‘Yes, well, you carry on thinking you’re a bad-ass bitch who can handle anything and anyone,’ Bruno retorted darkly. ‘But think on this: that thing Robbo said about riding the train – he meant the
white-slave train
.’

Laughing out loud now, Mia said, ‘Oh, now I know you’re making it up. There were hardly
any
white girls in there – or didn’t you notice?’

‘Can’t say I was looking that closely,’ Bruno grunted, grimacing at the memory of the genitalia he’d been forced to view against his will tonight.

‘Thanks for the concern,’ Mia told him firmly. ‘But I’m not stupid. If – and I do mean
if
, because I haven’t agreed yet – I have dinner with him, I’ll make my own mind up about what kind of man he is. Okay?’

She slid to the edge of the seat when the cab turned onto Oxford Street and waved when she saw Simone, Henry, and a couple of their fellow models standing outside the club.

Twisting his lip when he spotted Gordy hanging back from the others, Bruno muttered, ‘Oh, goody, Doctor Death’s here.’

‘Why do you call him that?’ Mia asked, smoothing her dress down.

‘It’s a euphemism for boring bastard who just lies there like a dead fish and waits to be fucked.’

‘So dump him, and find someone more exciting.’

‘What, and lose my pocket money?’ Bruno squawked as he paid the driver. ‘Do you know how long it’s taken me to find a sucker with a rich mummy and daddy? Where do you think I got the money to pay Robbo off?’

‘You’re kidding me!’ Shaking her own head when Bruno shook his, Mia said, ‘Well, I’d stop giving him such a hard time if you want him to carry on lining your pockets, ’cos he looks like he’s getting well and truly pissed off to me.’

‘Honey, it’s precisely
because
I give him such a hard time that he won’t be going
no
where,’ Bruno corrected her dramatically. ‘He’s a masochist; he loves being treated like shit. Oh, and having my nice big cock up his uptight arsehole obviously helps.’

‘
Eughh!
’ Mia grimaced. ‘He’s creepy enough already without me having to think about you and him at it.’

‘So, don’t think about it, then,’ Bruno said, and opened the door. ‘Oh, by the way,’ he whispered before getting out. ‘If he asks, we’ve been at a funeral parlour in Longsight viewing my dear old Aunt Lily’s body.’

‘What?’

‘Well, I had to think of
some
thing to get him off my back. And I knew he wouldn’t want to see a dead body, so I said I’d asked you instead – ’cos we all know
you
wouldn’t be fazed by a stinking corpse.’

Unsure whether she’d just been insulted or complimented, Mia climbed out of the cab. Forgetting all about Steve Dawson, she glanced around to see if Karl the hunky married model had turned up. Not particularly bothered to see that he hadn’t, she scanned the crowd and quickly earmarked a couple of very fanciable replacements.

13

‘Mia, get up, there’s a delivery for you,’ Kim said grumpily, banging on the twins’ bedroom door the following morning.

Groaning, Mia dragged the pillow over her head. ‘Go away, I’m tired.’

‘So am I – thanks to you keeping me up half the night. And that fella best not still be here!’

Reaching behind her, Mia patted the narrow mattress, relieved to find it empty. She hated waking up with men she’d picked up when she was pissed; they never looked as good through sober eyes.

‘If he is, tell him to sling his hook,’ Kim went on – loudly, for his benefit if he
was
there. ‘It’s bad enough your sister had to sleep on the couch because of him without me having to bump into him on me own flaming landing. And hurry up and get your arse downstairs, ’cos that delivery needs signing for.’