Page 8 of Mayfair Madame (Mayfair Heights #1)

Chapter Eight

Ellie

T he rest of the week flew by, and now it was Saturday evening. I’d showered, shaved, and stood in front of my wardrobe for an inordinate amount of time looking for something to wear.

The pile of clothes on the bed had steadily grown, but still I’d found nothing remotely suitable. Sweats were too casual, suits too professional.

I chucked the last shirt onto the pile and threw myself back onto the bed. This was a bad idea. Why was I even bothering to do this?

If I didn’t go, would she miss me? Would she even notice that I’d bottled it? That my insecurities had got the better of me?

God, I was so stupid agreeing to go, but Josh’s words sounded in my head.

“What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I fucking hate you, Josh.” I climbed off the bed and went to the kitchen.

Maybe I needed a little drink to give me courage. I cracked open a bottle of beer and drank half of it down in one. God, that was bitter, but I knocked the rest of it back, the bubbles fizzing up my nose.

This was ridiculous. I was a grown woman, not some teenager going on her first date, but it didn’t make me feel any more confident.

Get a grip, Ellie. Get your arse back in the bedroom and find something to wear. If she likes you as much as she says, then she won’t give a flying fuck what you’re wearing.

I rolled my shoulders and took a deep breath. Let’s do this .

Item by item, I sorted through the pile until I settled on a low-slung pair of dark jeans and a short-sleeved red shirt Kate had bought for me.

I’d never worn the damn thing, convinced it showed too much cleavage.

I dug out the bra she’d persuaded me to buy.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Might as well go the whole hog and wear that as well.

I added a belt, a few silver chains around my neck, and a couple of rings. My shoulders dropped as I looked at my reflection. The shirt was too clingy; the jeans too tight. Fuck that muffin top, but it was too late to do anything about it now.

It was almost nine thirty, and I still needed to do my hair and make-up. I’d done a cursory job of drying my hair, so messy waves were falling around my face. It didn’t look too bad.

A bit of eyeliner, a smattering of mascara, and a coating of red lipstick and I was ready to go. This had disaster written all over it.

Pull yourself together, Ellie. You are beautiful; you are strong, and you are the best person you can be.

At least that was what my therapist had told me. It was now or never, but by the time I arrived at the bar, I was ready to turn back. This would never work. Before I could leave, Melinda was walking towards me.

“Ellie, you came. Naomi will be so pleased.” She took my hand and led me into the bar. “Look who I found skulking outside. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have said she was about to make a run for it.”

Melinda looked totally different from the last time I’d seen her. Gone was the business suit, replaced by a tight-fitting black dress, an updo, and lots of gold. I was definitely underdressed.

“You must be Ellie.” An impeccably dressed tall man with dark blond hair addressed me. “I’m Oscar, and this here is Marco. Naomi’s at the bar. What’s your poison? I’ll go grab it for you.”

“Um, just a beer, please. I’m good with that.” All these beautiful people and here was me. Short, fat and totally not beautiful.

Marco was as gorgeous as Oscar, with jet-black hair and eyes almost as dark. If I were into men, he would absolutely be my type.

“Here, take a seat.” He patted the high-backed stool next to him, his voice low and husky.

“Thanks.” I hopped onto the stool and looked around the bar.

I’d never been here before, but it seemed nice with dark oak-panelled walls and a long wooden bar.

Shelves were stacked with every kind of spirit I could think of: gin, whisky, rum, brandy.

The bars I usually frequented didn’t have half the stock.

It wasn’t difficult to spot Naomi’s imposing, statuesque figure, her blonde hair stark against her dark skin. She laughed at something Oscar said; her smile lighting up her face.

It was a moment before she turned and saw me, but when she did, her smile widened and my heart stuttered. Breathing became difficult, and for a moment, she was the only thing I saw. Everything else fell away, the surroundings blurring.

“Take a breath, Ellie,” Melinda said softly in my ear. “She’s been so looking forward to this evening.”

“Me too,” I said, more to myself than to her.

“Drinks coming through.” Oscar placed a tray of drinks on the table and handed them out. “Vodka for Marco, wine for Melinda, and a beer for Ellie.”

“Ah, not there.” Melinda nudged him out of the way as Naomi took the stool next to me and crossed her long, shapely legs.

“Ellie Sharpe, you came. I’m so pleased.” I’d forgotten how melodic her voice was as it washed over me, heating me from the inside.

“I almost didn’t.” I gestured to the surrounding people. “Look at you all. I feel positively underdressed.”

“You look perfect. The red suits you. It brings out the blue in your eyes.”

“Well, aren’t you the sweet talker?” I sipped from the bottle, the glass cold in my hand.

“I’m actually not used to it.” Her rich brown eyes settled on my face. “The people I go out with usually do all the sweet talking. They pay for my company.”

Her scent was potent, and it took all my strength not to reach out and touch her. Was her skin as soft as it looked?

It was as if we were the only two people in the room. I heard nothing and saw nothing but her. Her eyes never left mine. God, if only we were somewhere else.

“I’d pay.” I was mesmerised, unable to look away. Her bare skin tempted me with its luscious glow.

“You don’t need to. I wanted you here to celebrate with me.”

Fuck.

“Oh, God. I didn’t even get you a card.” I mentally slapped myself. How could I forget?

“At the risk of sounding cheesy, your being here is enough. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to spend time with someone. And anyway, it’s technically not my birthday until Thursday.” Her hand rested on mine, soft and warm.

“I don’t remember the last time I went out.” Words I rarely uttered tumbled from my lips.

“There’s so much about you I want to learn. You know, the first night we met, I thought you had the kindest heart.” She looked down at our clasped hands.

“You’d just been assaulted. You were vulnerable.”

“That’s exactly what Melinda said, but it was more than that. It wasn’t just your kindness. I thought you were the sexiest woman I’d seen in a long while.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I snorted, most unladylike.

“Why is that so hard to believe? I mean, look at you. You’re beautiful. You have the perfect figure.”

I covered my face with my hands, unused to such compliments.

“Hey, look at me.” She took my hands in hers. I tried to pull them away, but she held on tighter and refused to let go. “Don’t you dare do that, Ellie Sharpe.”

“I’m just not used to anyone talking to me like that. I’m hardly attractive.”

She widened her eyes. “Seriously, then whoever you’ve been with were blind or stupid.”

I looked down at our joined hands. Mine were small with short, practical nails; hers were long and elegant, the nails perfectly manicured.

The difference between us was stark. I was the rough to her smooth, the grumpy to her sunshine. But didn’t they always say that opposites attract?

And boy, did she attract me. In a rare show of confidence, I spoke up.

“If I’m beautiful, as you say, then you are exquisite. The moment I saw you, I was blown away by your elegance and natural beauty. I don’t know the exact whys and wherefores of why you dropped the case against Godfrey, but I’m glad you did.”

“I can explain…."

“You don’t have to. Not right now.” But at some point, I wanted an explanation. Tonight, it would only spoil the mood, the chemistry building between us, and I could wait a little longer.

“What is it you’re doing to me?” She gazed deep into my eyes and brushed the hair from my face. “What spell do you have me under? We met literally only a week ago, yet you’re all I’ve been able to think about. I’ve never in my life been nervous about inviting someone out, but you’re different.”

I laughed. “It’s like you read my mind. Relationships are not usually my thing. Not that this is what this is,” I added quickly. “God, I’m fucking it up all over again.”

“Who says it isn’t a relationship?”

“We barely know each other.”

“So, let’s put that right.” She held onto my hand and looked me straight in the eyes.

“Hi, I’m Naomi Reeves. I’m almost thirty-five years old, and I’m a madame.

And yes, that means what you think it does.

I’ve only lived in London for five years.

Before that, I lived on the East Coast in a little seaside town. ”

She looked at me expectantly and nodded. My turn.

“Hi,” I said hesitantly. “I’m Eleanor Sharpe, but people call me Ellie. I’m thirty-two years old, and until five months ago, I lived in Chester. Prior to that, I lived in the West Midlands. I have a sister called Lucy, two nieces, and my ex, Kate, left me for another woman.”

Naomi narrowed her eyes. “What a bitch.”

“It was my fault. I worked long hours, didn’t pay her enough attention, so she found someone who would.”

“That’s bullshit. I hate to say it, but if she loved you, it wouldn’t matter. I’m assuming she knew what job you did before getting into a relationship with her.”

Embarrassed, I gazed around the bar. We were the only ones sitting at the table. Where had everyone else gone?

“I think your friends have deserted us.”

“They’re just over there. They never stray far. We’re a family. We may be crazy and be from all walks of life, but we’re a family all the same.”

“I’ve never had that. Other than my mum and sister, I don’t have anyone else. I sound like a proper, sad person.”

“No, you don’t. Maybe a little lonely? But now you have me and them.” She nodded to her friends sitting across the bar.

“Tell me how you became a madame? I’m curious.”

“It’s a very long story and one I will happily tell you, but not tonight. Tonight we celebrate.”

She picked up her glass from the table, downed it in one, and shuddered.

“Oscar! We need more drinks. Come on, Ellie. You have some catching up to do.”

Her friends rejoined us, and Naomi and Oscar went back to the bar.

“She really does like you, Ellie. I’ve never seen her like this over anyone. Just don’t break her heart. She doesn’t give it freely.”

I turned to face Melinda. “I would never do that.”

She was more likely to break mine, and a pang of something akin to dread filled me. Would I survive it? Naomi was everything Kate wasn’t. I was captivated by her charm, her sensuality, her looks. The way she moved, sinuous and seductive, like a panther.

For a moment, I imagined her naked, beckoning me to her, taking me to her bed. How would it feel to be kissed by her? To have her hands move over my body.

Urgh, my body. I could never show her that. What would she think of the stretch marks and the fat that refused to shift, no matter how much I tried?

Melinda joined Naomi at the bar. I watched them together as they laughed, carelessly touching each other. They would make far more sense together. I was dull in comparison.

She deserved someone like Melinda. I should go. I didn’t belong here with the beautiful people. This wasn’t my place.

I stood. I could sneak out and no one would notice, not until it was too late, anyway. The urge to run overrode any compulsion I had to stay.

But when I looked at Naomi, my heart rate kicked up a notch. My mouth went dry, and tingles spread through me.

She’s out of your league.

Kate’s voice sounded in my head, and as much as I hated to disagree with the bitch, I couldn’t. Naomi was way out of my league. I took a last look over my shoulder and headed to the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The tall, blond Oscar barred my exit.

“Home. I shouldn’t have come. I don’t belong here. I’m not like you.”

“Oh, nobody’s like me, honey. But that matters how? Sad fucking world if we’re all the same. Do you know how long it took me to convince her to call you? Now, you just turn your pretty little ass around and sit back down on that stool. There’s a drink on the table for you.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he placed a finger on my lips.

“I’ll hear no more. Go. Sit. Have fun. Make her happy. God knows, she deserves some happiness.”

He turned me around and gently pushed me back into the room, straight into Naomi.

“Were you leaving?” She pressed her hand to her chest.

“What? No, I was looking for the bathroom. Oscar directed me the right way.”

“I was going to say. The night’s still young, and we haven’t even started dancing yet. Come on. I love this song.”

With my escape foiled, I let her lead me to a space. She pulled me closer, put her arms around me, and linked her hands behind my back. I slid mine around her slim waist, feeling more unsure than I had in an age.

Had I died and gone to heaven?