Page 7 of Another Lucky Number (Lucky Number #2)
Chapter Six
‘ T hanks for that, Amber,’ I bark over my shoulder as I march back along the path towards the main resort building, my two friends following closely behind.
‘You’re welcome,’ she replies, in an infuriating tone.
‘ No, seriously .’ I stop and spin around, hands on hips. ‘I can’t believe you did that. We were having a lovely time and you just had to take things too far. As usual .’
‘Calm it, would you.’ She scoffs, which only incenses me further. ‘What if he’d said yes? What if you’d got an opportunity? You’d be thanking me now.’
‘ Would I? You sold him a load of bull. Since when am I the cream of the British corporate scene? Or being head hunted by multiple FTSE 100 companies? Or a bloody altruist?’
‘OK, so I stretched the truth a bit—’
‘ A bit ?’
‘Well, you did have a good job before and you were churning out the work your boss was supposed to be doing. So, you are capable enough, you just never got the recognition. You also spent a good half an hour on the flight boring the shit out of us about the charity donations you were making with your lottery win, did you not?’
‘That’s not even nearly the same thing.’
‘It still counts. You’ve also gifted money to your parents. And paid for me and Cat to be here with you on this freakin’ awesome trip. I consider that pretty charitable. Why not bend the truth a little? People embellish their CVs all the time to make themselves sound better than they are.’
I can’t help but smile. It feels good to imagine that there’s the tiniest smidgen of truth in what Amber is saying. Giving a resigned sigh, I start walking again.
‘OK, fair enough. It’s still a load of bollocks but at least there’s something of me hidden in there, however well concealed. I just wish you hadn’t done that, because now I feel stupid for being rejected.’
Amber catches up with me and pokes me in the ribs.
‘If you feel stupid then that’s your problem.
Lesson number one from the School of Amber: you need to put yourself out there if you want to get anywhere.
Sometimes things will work out, and sometimes they won’t.
But a few setbacks along the way are totally worth it when you score something big. You’ll see.’
Cat materialises at my other side, linking arms with me ‘I have to say, honey, although that wasn’t comfortable for you – and Amber didn’t necessarily go about it in the right way – she does have a point.
Successful people get where they are by being well networked and taking chances others might not.
It doesn’t come naturally to me either, but I’ve had to do a bit of that in my career and it has paid off. ’
With Cat (partially) joining forces with Amber on this one, it becomes clear that I may have to back down.
‘I suppose you’re right. But he was so hot. I’d have happily spent the next week and a bit salivating over him – instead of fruitlessly trying my luck for a job, then having to avoid him for the rest of the trip. ’
‘I think you might be able to do both,’ says Amber.
‘I’m sorry… what?’
‘It was obvious he wants in your knickers. That’s why I mentioned the job thing. Hoped he was one of those men who thinks with their—’
‘Thanks, I get the picture.’ I frown at her. ‘So, wait a minute, you think he likes me?’
‘Totally,’ Cat chips in. ‘Kisses as a greeting, his concern for you when Amber kicked you in the leg… I’m assuming that’s what happened anyway. He was also paying you much more attention than the two of us.’
‘Well, in that case, maybe I can force myself to face him again.’
Cat and I giggle like schoolgirls, skipping back to our rooms, while Amber trails behind, pretending she doesn’t know us.
Back in my suite, after getting ready for bed, I punch in the code for the safe and retrieve my phone, which I had locked away to minimise my screen time during this trip.
A true R b) not spending too long in the sun; c) locking my valuables away; or more likely d) all of the above.
On illuminating the screen, I see that I’m right about my mum – this time it’s a reminder of the increased risks of alcohol in hot weather – but there’s also a new Messenger request: from a James McAdam.
My heart leaps on seeing the familiar face staring back at me from the thumbnail photo beside the notification.
A face I now know belongs to an amazing guy I’ll be going on a second date with when I get home .
He’s made contact. Already . And while I’m away. This is huge. I’m suddenly filled with springy adolescent excitement, which instantly morphs into guilt on remembering I’ve spent the latter portion of my night lusting after another man.
Banishing this unwelcome feeling, I hit accept and lay my phone on the bedside table. It’s not likely I’ll hear from him straight away given it’s not even seven a.m. in the UK. He’s probably still asleep. However, within minutes, my phone buzzes with a message from him. I snatch it up and read it.
Hi Emma, how’s paradise? Hope it’s living up to your expectations? Been thinking about where to go on our next date. x
My face breaks into a girlish grin, my stomach fluttering so much that it feels like there’s an actual living, breathing butterfly in there. Ignoring the advice I’ve so readily dished out to Cat in the past about not being too available, I type out a response.
Hi, you’re up early! We’re having a fabulous time, thanks. Sun, sea and cocktails. What more can a girl want? So, you were thinking about our date, that’s nice. Tell me more… x
His reply comes just as swiftly.
Woke up early so thought I’d use the time productively. Was thinking… as you’re into extortionate plonk, how about wine tasting followed by di nner? x
I laugh out loud at his reference to our unfortunate first meeting – me fresh from a break up, unwittingly preparing to drown my sorrows with a two-thousand-pound bottle of wine pinched from my ex’s wine cupboard. The cheeky sod.
My phone pings again.
Too soon? x
I giggle at his humour. Just over a week ago – through my veil of hypersensitivity – I considered his behaviour rude and arrogant, but now I see it as playful and endearing.
No, you’re fine. Though I do have certain standards that you must meet – the wine must be drunk from the bottle, and only on a park bench. x
I spend the next hour squealing with delight and giggling like a teenager as the messages flit back and forth faster than a game of pro-tennis.
By the time I finally settle down to sleep, I’m bursting with infatuated elation, all thoughts of Sébastien and his sexy ‘Frenchness’ having completely dissipated.
The next morning, I get ready to join Cat and Amber for breakfast, and on leaving my suite, I come across a white envelope that has been pushed under my door.
Assuming it’s generic guest information from reception, I stuff it in my bag and make my way along the air-conditioned corridor to the breakfast buffet.
It’s a huge, airy room with a panelled ceiling and lots of wooden beams zig-zagging above my head. While mainly enclosed, it has tall folding patio doors on either side of the main entrance, which are currently open, giving the feeling of being outdoors.
Cat and Amber are already seated, digging into plates piled high with delicious smelling cooked breakfast items, fruit and pastries.
‘Good morning.’ Cat smiles at me. ‘Did you sleep in?’
‘Yeah, didn’t get to sleep till really late.’ I pull out a chair and sit down.
‘Why was that?’ says Amber. ‘Late night visit from a sexy Frenchman?’
‘No. I was chatting to James.’
‘Oh, amazing.’ Cat claps her hands together in excitement. ‘Who messaged who first?’
‘He contacted me. On Messenger.’
‘Even better. What were you chatting about? Tell me everything .’
I pour myself a cup of tea from the pot on the table and take a refreshing sip. ‘We chatted about ideas for our date. I filled him in on how the holiday’s going. Then… random chitchat. Just like you and Mike, really.’
‘No nude pictures again then.’ Amber assumes a dispirited expression.
‘Correct. Sorry to disappoint you.’
I excuse myself and head for the breakfast buffet, where I wander round the endless spread of enticing breakfast options, unable to decide what to eat.
Eventually, I load my plate with freshly cooked pancakes, strawberries and bacon, and add a dollop of syrup, promising myself I’ll have an egg-white omelette the next morning.
Returning to the table, I dig into my food, then I remember the envelope and pull it out of my handbag .
‘Did you get one of these under your door this morning too?’ I ask Cat and Amber who shake their heads. ‘Oh. Maybe it’s something related to our booking then.’
I tear open the envelope and start reading, then clamp my hand over my mouth in astonishment.