Denied

‘Very good.’

‘Then they are very right.’

She barely retains her shock, pushing my confidence further. ‘I see,’ she says quietly, nodding mildly.

‘But I’ll tell you something for free.’ I step forward, feeling unreasonably superior with the knowledge that I’ve had him and Cassie hasn’t. I don’t give her the opportunity to ask what. I’m in my stride. ‘He makes love even better than he f**ks with restraints.’

She gasps, backing away from me, and it’s in this moment I comprehend the weight of Miller’s reputation. It makes me feel nauseous. Somehow, though, I manage to cling on to my sass.

‘If your plan was to try and shock me with news of Miller’s business, then it’s wasted bitchiness. I already know.’

‘Right,’ she says slowly, thoughtfully.

‘Are we done, or are you going to enlighten me of his rules, too?’

She laughs, but it’s a surprised laugh. I’ve shocked her even more, startled her with my assertiveness, and she wasn’t prepared for it, which is now making me smug. ‘I guess we’re done.’

‘Good,’ I fire with confidence before finding my way to the toilet and falling apart once I’m safely behind the closed door of the cubicle. I’m not sure why I’m crying when I feel so satisfied with myself. I think I just twisted some balls, and Nan would be so proud . . . if I could tell her.

After spending an eternity pulling myself together, I make my way back to the kitchens and start loading up some trays of champagne in preparation for the return of guests from their meal.

Cassie is one of the first to enter the room, and she is draped all over a mature man, at least thirty years her senior. It’s then that the obviousness hits me like a tornado, making my tray of champagne flutes chink as my palm shakes. She’s a high-class hooker, too!

‘Oh my God,’ I whisper, watching her giggle and lap up the attention he’s showering her with. Why? She has a stake in an exclusive nightclub. She surely doesn’t need the cash or gifts. And in this moment, I swiftly realise that I haven’t even considered Miller’s motive for absorbing himself in that world. He owns Ice. He definitely doesn’t need the money. I reflect back to our encounter at the restaurant, scanning my mind for some words I vaguely recall.

Enough to buy a nightclub.

I’m buzzing with curiosity, and I hate being curious. It’s already got me in too deep and more could see me drowning.

‘You gonna stand there all night and daydream?’ Sylvie’s voice snaps me back into the room, which is now filled with guests and happy chatter. My eyes cast slowly across the gatherings of people, all, as usual, impeccably dressed, and I wonder how many are immersed in a world of high-class prostitution. ‘Livy?’

I jump, prompting me to steady my tray with my spare hand. ‘Sorry!’

‘What’s wrong?’ Sylvie asks, looking around the room, and I know it’s because of all the other times during these functions that I’ve had a funny turn.

‘Nothing,’ I blurt. ‘I’d better get serving.’

‘Hey, is that the woman . . .’ She pauses and looks at me, her pink lips pursed tight to stop her from completing her question.

I don’t answer, instead leaving Sylvie to lose myself in the crowd and let her draw her own conclusion. I’ve led my friends to believe that Cassie is Miller’s girlfriend, and I might have got away with it if the slut wasn’t parading around blatantly with another man.

Chapter Four

I walk home from work the next evening, taking a few detours to see some of my favourite landmarks on my way. As always, the diversion is welcome, but when I stop at a street vendor to buy a bottle of water, a picture on the front of a newspaper catapults me back to square one. He did this interview weeks ago. Why is it in print only now? My pulse increases as I absorb the photograph of the beautiful male gracing the front page, and then it pumps relentlessly when I read the headline:

London’s most eligible bachelor opens

London’s most exclusive nightclub.

I gingerly pick up the paper and stare down at the words, being bombarded with images of a happy moment, when he had acknowledged his feelings and seemed to have given up trying to hide from them. He’d told that brash journalist to rethink her plan to title the piece with this. She must have been delighted by the news that Miller Hart is, in fact, a bachelor. The hurt is too much and reading the article will only inflame it, so I force myself to throw it back on the pile, forgetting to collect the water I’d originally stopped for.

He’s still around every corner. I stare blankly down at the pavement, trying to figure out where to head next. In my fog, I step into the road, only to be honked at by an approaching car, but I don’t even jump. If that car were to mow me down, I wouldn’t feel a thing.

It slows and stops a few feet before me. The Lexus is unfamiliar, but the registration plate isn’t. Two letters. Just two.

W A

The driver’s door opens and an unfamiliar man gets out, tipping his hat to me before briskly walking around the car and opening the rear door, holding it and gesturing for me to get in. Refusing would be stupid. He’ll find me, no matter where I hide, so I tentatively step forward and lower myself into the car, keeping my eyes down, working hard to make my tears recede. I don’t need to look to check if I’m alone. I know I’m not. I could feel the power that he wields from outside of the car. Now that I’m within touching distance of him, it’s potent.

‘Hello, Olivia.’ William’s voice is just how I remember. Soft. Comforting.

I hang my head. I’m not ready for this.

‘You could at the very least be courteous enough to look at me and say hello this time. That night at the hotel, you were in an awful hurry.’

I slowly turn my eyes and absorb every refined piece of William Anderson, refreshing the distant memories that I’ve stored at the back of my mind for years and years. ‘What is it about you types and manners?’ I ask shortly, keeping my stare on his shimmering greys. They seem even more sparkly, his full head of grey hair making his eyes seem more like liquid metal.

He smiles and reaches over, clasping my little hand in his big one. ‘I would have been disappointed had you not fired a little spunk in my direction.’

His touch is just as comforting as his handsome face. I don’t want it to be, but it is. ‘And I would hate to disappoint you, William,’ I sigh. The door next to me shuts and the driver is up front in no time, pulling away from the kerb. ‘Where are you taking me?’

‘For dinner, Olivia. It seems we have a lot to talk about.’ He pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles before placing it back in my lap. ‘The similarities are incredible,’ he says quietly.

‘Don’t,’ I grate, turning to look out the window. ‘If that’s all you want to talk about, then I’ll graciously decline your invitation to dinner.’

‘I wish it really was all there is to talk about,’ he replies sternly. ‘But a certain wealthy young gentleman is higher on my list of concerns, Olivia.’

My eyes slowly close and, if it were possible, I’d close my ears, too. I don’t want to hear what William has to say. ‘Your concern isn’t necessary.’

‘I’ll be the one who decides that. I’m not going to sit back and watch you be dragged into a world where you don’t belong. I fought long and hard to keep you from it, Olivia.’ He reaches over and runs his knuckles down my cheek, watching me closely. ‘I won’t allow it.’

‘It has nothing to do with you.’ I’m sick of people thinking they know what’s best for me. I’m the master of my own destiny, I think like an idiot. I take the handle of the door when the car stops at a red light, ready to jump out and run. But I don’t get very far. The door won’t budge and William has a firm grip around the top of my arm.

‘You’re staying in this car, Olivia,’ he asserts firmly as the car pulls away from the lights. ‘I’m in no mood for your defiance this evening. You really are your mother through and through.’

I shrug him off and rest back in the plush leather. ‘Please don’t speak of her.’

‘Your hatred hasn’t lessened, then?’

I turn cold eyes onto my mother’s ex-pimp. ‘Why would it? She chose your dark world over her daughter.’

‘You’re about to choose a darker world,’ he says matter-of-factly.

My mouth snaps shut and my heart rate doubles. ‘I’m choosing nothing,’ I whisper. ‘I’m never going to see him again.’

He smiles fondly at me on a little shake of his head. ‘Who are you trying to convince?’ he asks, and probably wisely, too. I heard my words. There was no conviction in them. ‘I’m here to help you, Olivia.’

‘I don’t need your help.’

‘I assure you, you do. More than you did seven years ago,’ he says harshly, almost coldly, leaving me feeling cold. I remember William’s dark world. I can’t possibly need his help more now than I did then.

He turns away from me and takes his phone from his inside pocket, punching in a few numbers before holding it to his ear. ‘Cancel my appointments for the rest of the evening,’ he orders, and then hangs up, slipping his phone back into his jacket. He keeps his gaze forward for the rest of the journey, leaving me wondering what’s about to transpire over dinner. I know I’m about to hear things that I don’t want to, and I know there is nothing I can do to stop it.

The driver pulls the Lexus up to a small restaurant and opens the door for me. William nods, a wordless gesture to step out, which I do without a fuss, knowing it will get me nowhere to protest. Smiling at the driver, I wait for William to join me on the pavement and then watch as he buttons his jacket before placing his hand on the small of my back to guide me onward. The doors to the restaurant are opened for us and William greets almost everyone as we pass through. The awareness of his presence by other diners and the staff is powerful. He nods and smiles all the way until we’re being seated at a private table at the back, away from prying eyes and ears. A wine menu is handed to me by a smart waiter, and I smile my thanks as I take my seat.

‘She’ll have water,’ he orders. ‘And the usual for me.’ There’s no please or thank you. ‘I recommend the risotto.’ William smiles across the table at me.

‘I’m not hungry.’ My stomach’s in knots, a mixture of nerves and anger. I couldn’t possibly eat.

‘You’re bordering on emaciated, Olivia. Please let me have the satisfaction of watching you eat a decent meal.’

‘I have my nan to nag me about my weight. I don’t need you nagging, too.’ I place the menu on the table and take the glass of water that’s just been poured.

‘How is the formidable Josephine?’ he asks, accepting a tumbler of dark liquid from the waiter.

She wasn’t so formidable when William sent me back to her. I recall him referring to my grandmother on a few occasions during my reckless spell, but I was too blinkered by my determination back then to delve into the details of their acquaintance. ‘You knew her?’ Now I’m curious again, and I damn well hate being curious.

He laughs, and it’s a pleasant sound, all smooth and light. ‘I’ll never forget her. I was her first call each time Gracie performed one of her disappearing acts.’

The mention of my mother’s name stirs the bile in my stomach, but hearing about my grandmother makes me smile on the inside. She’s fearless, not intimidated in the least bit by anyone, and I know William wouldn’t have been an exception. His amused tone while talking of Nan is proof. ‘She’s well,’ I answer.