nauseous.
‘What kind of business?’ he asks.
‘I’m in property,’ says Alice, clearing her throat and sitting up straight in an attempt to shrug off the impostor syndrome that always seems to linger whenever she achieves something she doesn’t feel she deserves. ‘Interiors and development,’ she adds, taking ownership of the words this time.
‘Interesting,’ he says. ‘Are you buying or selling?’
‘I’ve just bought a site today,’ she says. ‘I’m building twenty-eight apartments on it.’
He looks like he’s been given an electric shock. ‘Wow, really?’
‘You seem shocked,’ she says lightly. ‘Did you not realize that women are able to do that in this day and age?’ She didn’t dare let on that without Nathan, she would never have entertained the idea. She brushes off the insecurities that snake through her and tries to silence the voice that says, And without Nathan, you’ll never complete.
‘Not at all,’ he says carefully. ‘I’m just genuinely impressed. Does that make me a male chauvinist?’
Alice shakes her head.
‘So, you’re doing this all on your own?’ he asks, stepping into dangerous territory again.
‘Without a man, you mean? Well, it’s my company, my talent, my money.’ She didn’t feel the need to share that most of the funds had been raised by a loan from the bank.
‘Well, hats off to you,’ he said, holding up his tumbler. ‘And I’d say that to a woman, man or child. It takes a brave person to do what you’re doing, especially in a market as competitive as here. I’m in awe.’
And so you should be, she says silently, before asking herself why she’s even contemplating not being able to go ahead without Nathan being on board.
‘So, I’m guessing you’re from England?’
Alice nods as she takes a sip of her drink. ‘London.’
‘I love British women,’ he says. ‘The accent drives me wild. There’s just something so damn sexy about it.’
‘We can talk real dirty as well,’ she says.
‘Oh yeah . . .?’ he says, encouraging her to go further.
Alice raises her eyebrows suggestively before leaning in to whisper, ‘Mud, Dirt, Soil . . .’
The man throws his head back and laughs. ‘You Brits have also got a wicked sense of humour.’
Alice smiles, her eyes boring into his. She’d forgotten what it felt like to flirt; to feel attractive and desired. The power it gave her was an aphrodisiac in itself. Maybe she was now beginning to understand how unfaithful partners were able to let their guard down. Was it really this easy?
‘Look, I don’t normally do this,’ he says. ‘But –’ she smiles sweetly, pretending that she believes him – ‘would you like to join me for a drink in my room?’
‘For just a drink?’
He smiles, and her insides flip over.
If her husband wasn’t cheating and lying to her, then she wouldn’t be in this position, but he is, so . . .
The thought of what Nathan might be doing right now breaks her heart, and as she looks at the handsome man in front of her, she wonders why she shouldn’t allow this stranger to glue a little of it back together. Would going to bed with him make me feel better? she thinks. Would I feel that I’d somehow got one over on Nathan? That we’d be on a level par?
The pilot leans in close. ‘Is that a yes or a no?’
She locks eyes with him. ‘What’s your room number?’
‘1106,’ he replies.
‘I’ll meet you there in five minutes.’
He takes his glass and Alice watches him as he walks out of the bar. Every fibre in her body is on high alert, even the tips of her fingers are tingling. She forces herself to stay where she is, to calmly finish her drink, all the time counting loudly in her head to silence the nerves that are circling in her stomach.
‘Can I get the bill please?’ she asks the barman.
‘Mr Anthony has already signed for it, madam.’
Slick. He’s obviously done this before.
She lowers herself off the stool, careful not to make eye contact with anyone in case she sees their disapproving expression. She smooths down her dress as she walks through the lobby, pretending that what she’s about to do is perfectly normal. It must be, because her husband does it with no trouble whatsoever. In fact, both her husbands seemed to share a similar lack of conscience.
As she waits for the lift, she can’t determine whether her body is shaking with nerves or fear. She looks at herself in the highly polished gold doors and is taken aback by the reflection. There’s