Page 5 of Another Lucky Number (Lucky Number #2)

Chapter Four

W e check out another couple of bars before taking a taxi back to the resort.

There’s plenty of banter on the way, which seems to amuse the driver.

Mostly playful sniping between Amber and myself, regarding our equally dismal karaoke performances – though in her head that’s not how her moment of glory went.

‘So, where to?’ Cat asks, while we wander through the luscious resort gardens and circle the enormous lagoon-style swimming pool which is glowing invitingly. ‘Cocktail bar? Beach bar? Bed?’

‘ Bed? Are you freakin’ kidding me?’ Amber shoots Cat a judgy look. ‘We’re on holiday, grandma.’

‘I was offering a range of suggestions.’

‘Let’s go to the resort club. They’ve got a throwback night on.’

Cat’s face falls. It’s clear that she would have been quite happy to turn in for the evening.

‘Why don’t we leave that for another night, Amber?’ I say. ‘Thanks to you, I’ve had enough excitement for one day. What about the wine bar? We haven’t tried that yet. ’

‘Ooh, great idea,’ says Cat.

‘Amber? You up for that?’ I nudge her with my elbow.

‘Suppose,’ she huffs.

‘We’ll go to the club another night, I promise.’ I slide my arm around her shoulders and she shrugs me off as she always does, not one for shows of affection.

We head along the pathway in the direction of the wine bar, eventually reaching a building that has the appearance of being an enormous rock.

There’s a metal sign above the entrance introducing it as The Cave .

We walk inside and find ourselves in a small reception area where we’re greeted by a young hostess.

‘Good evening, ladies. Have you made a booking this evening?’

‘No, did we need to?’ says Cat.

‘Not at all.’ The hostess smiles warmly at us. ‘But some of our guests prefer to do so to specify their table. Is it a table for three, or do you have others joining you? And would you like to sit inside or outside?’

‘It’s just us,’ I say. ‘And outside if possible.’

‘Follow me, please,’ she says.

We traipse behind her through the bar to an outdoor terrace, which is more secluded and intimate than the terrace of the cocktail bar.

It has high tables, pretty feature lighting and a faux canopy roof that creates the cave-like ambience.

Light jazz music floats seductively through the air at a low volume, and little more than twenty or so feet away from us, cloaked in darkness, is the vast, calm sea.

‘Ooh, I love the twinkling lights,’ I say, marvelling at our surroundings. ‘And it really is cave-like, even though we’re outside. Genius.’

We thank the hostess, who melts into the background and another staff member takes over.

‘Welcome to The Cave.’ The man hands us each a drinks menu while we make ourselves comfortable. ‘Please take your time and I will return for your order soon.’

After some toing and froing, we order a bottle of champagne and a dish of fresh chocolate-dipped fruit, which Cat claims is necessary because we didn’t have dessert earlier.

‘ Look .’ My attention is suddenly drawn to another feature of our environment. ‘There are even those rock formations you find in real caves. The ones that point up and down. What do you call them again… salamites and salactites?’

Amber makes a face. ‘ Stalagmites and stalactites , dipshit. Think you need to go back to school and re-learn the basics.’

There’s a stifled chuckle from the table behind me. I glance round self-consciously, but I can’t make out much more than the silhouette of a man sitting alone at a candlelit table.

‘Yeah, well, I think being able to pronounce the words of rock formations is less important than being able to read a room, Miss Mosher,’ I throw back.

Before Amber can retaliate, the waiter reappears with our champagne and discreetly releases the cork from the bottle. We watch silently, almost spellbound, as he pours us each a glass.

‘Enjoy yourself, ladies. I will check with you again shortly to see if you need anything.’

We thank him and he places the bottle in the chiller and disappears.

Enchanted by our surroundings, we silently clink glasses. It’s a moment that needs no words; only to immerse ourselves in the experience. But, as ever, the silence doesn’t last long.

‘So…’ Amber fixes her gaze on me, her face almost ominous in the half-light. ‘Any more thoughts about what’s next for you, Emma? Your choice of career is only one part of it.’

‘Amber, it’s almost midnight,’ says Cat. ‘Would tomorrow not be a better—’

‘It’s OK, Cat.’ I hold up a hand to stop her. ‘This is preferable to karaoke or any other mischief she might get up to.’ My attention turns to Amber. ‘That quite a broad question, isn’t it? I sense you have an ulterior motive in asking it.’

‘All right, I’ll get to the point,’ she says. ‘You sacked off your last job rather than addressing the problem there: your conflict avoidance—’

‘My problem was a bullying boss.’

‘Who you didn’t stand up because of your conflict avoidance.’

I narrow my eyes at her. ‘What’s your question?’

‘My question…’ She pauses and sips at her drink, looking thoughtful.

‘Here it is: as someone with no backbone when it comes to dealing with difficult people at work – how are you going to grow one to land this dream career you’re after – whatever it is?

I meant it when I said I’d whip you into shape. ’

‘ Amber .’ I glance around self-consciously once more and lower my voice. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Not really, but thanks for asking.’

‘You know what I mean. I don’t want my private business shared around, and… there are people listening.’

‘Where?’ Amber looks around and shrugs. ‘No one’s close enough to hear.’

‘ Him .’ I jab my thumb towards the man at the table behind me. ‘He already got a laugh from your earlier piss-take.’

‘Great. Someone who appreciates my humour. We’ll get on well.’

‘Amber, don’t you dare—’

‘Chill, would you.’ She chuckles. ‘There’s no one there.’

Surprised, I look round and see that the man has gone. An empty champagne flute the only sign that he was ever there.

‘OK, good. And to answer your – slightly offensive – question—’

‘You were the one who wanted me to be specific.’

‘Well, whatever… I’ve already had some thoughts on th is.

I’m going to invest in some personal development: a career coach.

Someone I can work with to manage that issue and grow my assertiveness.

They can also help me understand and build on any other weaknesses, as well as make the most of my strengths. ’

‘Honey, that’s a great idea,’ says Cat. ‘A really sensible investment that should pay off – as long as you find the right person to work with.’

I beam at her. ‘Thanks, yes, I think so too.’

I try to ignore the fact that Amber’s eyeing me suspiciously.

‘Where did that come from?’ she asks. ‘You were at a total loss just a couple of days ago, more than happy to sign up as my bitch.’

‘I… um… gave it some thought on the plane.’

‘You mean you were reading Psychology Now magazine on the plane and you’ve parroted from that.’

I flush. Cat looks and me and winces, obviously feeling my pain.

‘Amber, please don’t,’ she says. ‘What does it matter where Emma got it from? It’s a great idea.’

‘Yeah, maybe,’ she says. ‘I just love seeing the look on her face when she gets outed. Maybe that should be your first session with your new coach, Emma. How to keep a poker face. That you would get as part of the “School of Amber”.’

‘No offence, but I think I need to work with someone who’s not going to teach me their bad habits.

’ I straighten my back defiantly. I don’t really mean this.

I know that Amber has a strong professional side and her devilish antics are strictly limited to pleasure, not business, but she’s gotten under my skin.

‘ Whatever .’ She rolls her eyes. ‘I still suggest you do some work with me too. I’ll give you way more value than any overpriced career coach.’

‘I’ll give it some thought…’ I say, climbing down from my se at to escape to the ladies toilets, having u-turned on my willingness to engage in this conversation.

After a quick breather, I make my way back to the table, noticing that the rude man from earlier has returned to his seat. I glower in his direction, and while I’m inelegantly clambering back onto my seat, he glances round, making eye contact and causing my breath to catch in my throat.

It’s the hot man from the karaoke bar.