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I sat back in my chair, unable to read anymore.
I felt sick.
Was this the real Alfie Tell or just a juvenile imitation? I didn't know, but one thing I did know for sure was that there was no way in hell I was having dinner with him tonight. I thought of the half-naked maid with her mouth taped shut. It was foul, all of it.
The Never Tell Club? What the hell was that?
My gaze flicked to the clock on my computer screen. 5.00 pm had rolled around. My stomach roiled at the idea of sitting down with the man from the article. How could I go to dinner with someone like that? I was apeasant, acommoner. Would he laugh at me too?
Elliot would be picking me up in half an hour for my ‘date’ with Alfie, but that didn't mean that I had to be here when he did.
I shut down my computer, packed away my desk, and headed out the door.
I was probably a little too pleased with myself as I skipped across the car park.
I was winning, and the notorious playboy could go to hell.
When my phone pinged with a text at 5.30 on the nose I knew exactly who it would be. I ignored it, and ten minutes later it started to ring. And ring. And ring. After the third call, I switched the damn thing off.
I pushed Mr Tell firmly out of my head and went to help Natalie with dinner. I set the table as she ranted about upcoming arrangements for parents' evening at her work, which also happened to be Ryans’ school. I nodded along, used to being the sounding board for the mundane trivialities in her life, as she was mine.
"So, how was your day?" she asked as she drained vegetables in the sink, the steam billowing up to form a slight sheen on her face. Thinking over my smart move this afternoon, I gave her a mischievous grin. "What have you done now?"
I gave her a brief rundown of last night’s and today's events, skimming over the details of that awful article. When I was done she gave me a look of awe and respect.
"You sly minx!" she exclaimed, laughing.
"Should I feel bad?"
"No. It sounds like it might do him good to be taken down a peg or two." She popped a piece of carrot into her mouth. "Ryan, dinner’s ready!"
After dinner we snuggled up on the sofa to watchThe Simpsonsin our pajamas. The opening credits for the show had just started to roll when I heard a car pull up outside. A second later a car door slammed smartly shut. A moment later, there was a knock at our door.
“I’ll get it!” Ryan jumped up but I quickly grabbed him. I had a sinking feeling I knew who it was. One look out of the window told me that my feeling was right.
"Oh my God," I whispered.
"What? Who is it?"
"Alfie Tell." He knocked on my door again, this time with less patience. Beyond him, I could see what appeared to be an Aston Martin looking ridiculous next to my old van.
I gestured at Natalie to stay where she was, rushed to the front door, and flung it open, too angry to be afraid of the glowering man on the other side.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" I hissed.
"Me?" He tried to step past me into my house, but there was no way I was letting him inside. I shoved at him, forcing the both of us outside for all the neighbours to see. He looked surprised for a moment before he collected himself. "What do you thinkyou'redoing? Elliot was supposed to pick you up at 5.30. We had a date."
"I told you I was busy tonight."
He looked me up and down, taking in my pajamas. "Yeah, you look really busy." His voice dripped with sarcasm.
I clenched my fists and did my best to stay calm. I inhaled deep and his heated gaze dropped to my chest. I quickly crossed my arms, trying to hide the fact that I very clearly wasn't wearing a bra. "What do you want with me, Mr Tell?"
He took a deep breath of his own, clearly trying to get a grip of himself. "Dinner. That's all I wanted."
"Then you should have asked me."
"I did ask you!" He seemed to grow in size but I wasn't scared. I was too angry to be scared.