in disgust. ‘Urgh, testosterone at play. Men. They think with their fucking dicks.’ She lifts her glass to mine. ‘Here’s to not being one of the many, but maybe being the one someday.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’
‘Good. We need more alcohol.’ Lucy waves the bottle above her head, and a fresh one is soon delivered. I cast my eyes past her, relaxing a little, thinking tonight is shaping up to be a good one – a great club, great music, free champagne, and my best fr—
What the fucking hell? I stiffen all over as I spot someone. Or no one. My neck cranes, my eyes squinting a little as my mind tries to decide whether I’m seeing right. I don’t know who I’m trying to kid. I’d know him a mile off. Plus, my heart is doing what it usually does when he’s nearby. Going wild. ‘Oh fuck,’ I breathe, tipping another whole glass of champagne down my throat.
‘What?’ Lucy asks, turning in her seat to see where I’m staring. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing,’ I squeak, ducking a little in my chair before he spots me. ‘Can we go?’ I can’t believe it!
‘No way.’ She swings back to face me, disgusted by my suggestion. ‘Free champagne all night? The only place I’m moving to is the dance floor.’ She downs her drink in demonstration, then tops it right back up, this time knocking the bottle on the side of the glass. She’s well on her way and I’m not far behind. A bad condition to be in when Becker Hunt is around, and we’re not on work time.
Shit, he’s mere feet away, looking spectacular. He’s ditched the jacket of his suit, leaving him in grey trousers and a white shirt. His collar is open, his sleeves rolled up, revealing lickable forearms, and he’s wearing his glasses. Those fucking glasses.
My eyes close as I gather breath. Lots of it. He was smiling, a bottle of beer in his hand, lapping up the attention being rained on him by the women flocking around him.
Oh God.
When I finally find the strength to open my eyes, I’m confronted by Lucy’s frowning face. ‘Seriously, Eleanor, what’s up?’
‘My boss,’ I whisper. She can’t possibly have heard me over the music, but she must have read my lips because she swings around, wide-eyed and mouth agape.
‘Where?’ she gasps, her head swaying from side to side. ‘Which one?’
‘Trousers, white shirt, glasses.’ I hope Lucy will take note quickly, spot him quickly, and turn away quickly.
‘Motherfucker,’ she says, throwing her arm out in Becker’s direction. ‘His photos do him no justice.’
‘I know,’ I grate. ‘Stop pointing.’ I grab her arm and yank it back.
She flashes me excited eyes. ‘You missed magnificent on that list of yours.’
I pout to myself. I do have magnificent on my list. I just didn’t share it with Lucy, just like I didn’t tell her that he intruded on my date with Brent, or about that tremendous tattoo on his back.
‘Go and say hi.’
‘Are you insane?’ I hiss. ‘I’d rather put on some pink fluffy knickers and join a Bubblegum Girl on one of those podiums.’ My gaze flicks in Becker’s direction, my face screwing up when my eyes are assaulted by a ton of women all vying for his attention. My repulsion only multiplies when I notice that one of the clingers-on is the woman from The Haven. Tiger bird. Alexa. I snort my revulsion and throw another glass of champagne down my throat. Is he for real? He had Alexa in his bed last night. Kissed me this afternoon. And now he’s out with her again? Oh my days, someone hold me back before I go on a rampage. The wanker. The dirty, philandering, low-life wanker.
‘Someone’s touchy,’ Lucy says, watching me closely as I shift and fidget in my seat. She’s getting a kick out of this. I’m just about to tell her exactly why I’m touchy when my attention is captured by another man walking towards us.
Oh? Interesting.
I slowly cast my eyes back to Lucy.
Then I smirk. ‘There’s someone on their way over.’ I cock my head and widen my eyes for effect, now taking a leisurely sip of my champagne. ‘Blond. Beard.’
She sits up straight and grabs her glass with both hands. ‘No,’ she murmurs, shaking her head slightly.
‘Oh, yes,’ I counter, looking over her shoulder when Mark comes to a stop behind her. There’s that mole. It really is cute. ‘Hi.’ My voice is so completely over the top. ‘I’m Eleanor.’