“Maybe I don't have a norm or type,” sulked Gray.
“You always have in the past,” replied Sam.
“Then maybe I've changed.” Gray suddenly realised that Eve really was the complete opposite of any woman he had ever been interested in.
“What? How long have you been seeing her?” cried Sam.
“I'm not, not really. Shit! Oh, I don't know, Sam, it's all a bit fucked up,” he admitted.
“Oh, Gray. I don't know what to say,” she said sympathetically, seeing his confusion and distress.
“You and me both,” replied Gray sadly.
“Tell me about her.” Sam passed Gray some coffee.
“I met her at The Stanford the other night when I was supposed to meet up with the guy from the supermarket chain, the one that cancelled. I ventured into the bar and saw her sitting there, then I thought being hassled by some bloke. When I realised he was definitely hassling her, I stepped in, we had a drink and hit it off and...”
“And you nailed her,” finished Tim, grinning.
“I don't know why I bother with you,” snapped Gray. “Look I’m shitty company so I'm going to get off.” Gray prepared to stand.
“No, Gray, please. Ignore my idiotic husband. If you are this wound up about her it was obviously more than nailing her,” implored Sam, glaring across at Tim.
“She is the complete opposite to anyone I've ever been attracted to and initially I just thought about nailing her, but it became more, but I didn't realise it, not really until after we'd slept together. I stupidly didn't get a number or anything and she left before I woke up,” he said giving his sister a heavily edited version of events.
“Maybe you got more from it than she did,” suggested Tim.
“No, no! I may sound more conceited than usual, but I know it meant as much to her as it did to me, I felt it, Sam,” he said, wondering if he would ever find her.
“Have you ever heard of love at first sight, big brother?” Sam smiled sadly at her brother's forlorn expression.
“Yes, and it's all poppycock, but it was more than just hot sex, really, really hot sex,” he said, grinning briefly.
“Don't dismiss first impressions, Gray. Look at me and Tim.”
“What do you mean, you and Tim?” asked a confused Gray.
“When you brought him home with you that first time, I just knew that there was something special about him.” Grinned Sam.
“What, so special that you had countless boyfriends over the next what? Three, four years before he finally asked you out.” Gray was irritated now.
Laughing, Sam took his hand in hers. “I always thought you knew, and Tim was adamant that you had no clue, so I owe my husband a huge apology. We, Tim and I, we hit it off and went on a few dates, but I was going off to uni as you and Tim graduated so we ended things with a plan to pick things up after I graduated if we were both still single, but he was always the love of my life and the first man I ever slept with before uni,” Sam revealed to an open mouthed Gray.
“Fuck me, do you two have no boundaries? I no more needed to know that Tim popped your cherry than I needed to know you are ovulating and will be demanding he shags you at every opportunity over the next few days,” he cried, leaping up. “I am going home to see if I can't track Evie down and you two can do whatever you want, although we all know what that is likely to be.”
“We haven't told you about the people we saw. One of them was a very pretty brunette,” said Tim, hoping to entice Gray to stay.
“Yeah, well fill me in tomorrow and there is only one brunette I am interested in and Eve Pardoe is not going to literally stroll into my office, so goodnight,” he replied almost running to the door.
“You told him I'm ovulating?” asked Sam turning towards Tim.
“Yeah, well he took that much better than you telling him I took your virginity,” replied Tim, pulling his wife towards him and possessing her mouth passionately before pulling back slightly and saying, “Now, get your arse upstairs unless you want me to shag you across the back of the settee.”
Sam flashed him a huge grin before making a run for the stairs, giggling as Tim pursued her.
Chapter 5
The fortnight since Gray and Eve had met passed slowly and painfully for them both and despite several visits to the bar of The Stanford by each of them, they still hadn't found each other again. Gray had used every spare moment he could to search for her on Single No More and had still failed to find her and was beginning to wonder whether he’d imagined her, dreamed that whole night.
He had a room booked at The Stanford but with several advertising execs due in the office the next morning he was unsure whether he had time to attend the singles night at all. Oh, who was he kidding? He was definitely going, just in case.
Getting up he decided to just get it over and done with and head over there. If there was no sign of Eve tonight he would move on, maybe if that little blonde receptionist was on shift he could charm her a little, not that it would take much to charm her all the way up to his room and out of her clothes. Yes, that was a definite plan. He needed to have sex, sex with someone else, not just his own hand.
He called a quick, “See you in the morning,” to Tim, Sam and his secretary Kirsty.
Once in his car he changed radio stations and laughed as the next song came on and realised it was the protest song Eve of Destruction by P.F. Sloan.
“You really are haunting me, Evie, but please be there tonight, baby,” he pleaded.
Eve sat in her car on the car park of The Stanford, wondering whether she should actually go in or not. She was dressed in the same outfit as last time, just in case Gray happened to be there; maybe he was a regular at single nights on the lookout for probable clients. If that was the case he was unlikely to make a return visit here after ending up with a profitless night with her and as good as it had been for her she seriously doubted it had been the same for Gray, with all of his experience and knowledge.
“What are you doing here, Eve?” she asked herself in the rear-view mirror.
Her phone rang as she prepared to leave the car with a 'sod it, you only live once' attitude. She sighed as she answered the call from Max's mum. “Hello Annette,” she answered, trying to sound bright and bubbly.
“Evelyn, I was beginning to wonder if you'd dropped off our mortal coil,” she said sarcastically, making Eve wince.
“How are you?” Eve asked, attempting to keep things light but knowing it was futile.
“As you would expect on the occasion of my son's thirtieth birthday. I assume you'd remembered?” she asked disparagingly.
Eve had remembered a few days before, but as her mind had been occupied by thoughts of Gray she had blocked Max's birthday from her mind and now that it was in the forefront, she had no intention of leaving the car until she got home.
“Of course I remembered. I was the one that married him, remember?” Eve felt very angsty now.
The headlights of a sleek, low slung sports car blinded her briefly as it drove past her and made its way to a vacant space on the far side of the car park.
“I was beginning to question if you'd remembered that you had married my son!” Annette said snidely. “I went to see Max earlier, but there was no sign of you, no card. Nothing,” she added.
“No,” was as much as Eve could muster as a response.
“Eve,” said Annette, softer now. “I wish you wouldn't shut me out.”
“Sorry,” replied Eve sincerely.
“Won’t you come home, and we can all help each other through this, Eve?” Annette sounded desperate.
“I can't, sorry,” replied Eve. “I have a life here, sorry,” she repeated. “I need to move on, and I can't do that when you are so desperately hanging onto the past,” she told the other woman who she could hear was crying a little.
“Of course, but there's no hurry to move on, Eve. Maybe in a few years when we've all accepted what has happened...”
“Annette,”
interrupted Eve firmly. “I really have to go. I have some really important stuff to prepare for work in the morning.”
“When did you become so hard faced and cruel, Evelyn, or were you always that way? My poor Max...”
Interrupting again, Eve said, “Goodbye, Annette.”
Hanging up, she looked down at her phone and threw it onto the passenger seat but used a little too much force as it careered across the seat and onto the floor. Lying across the front seat and stretching to retrieve her phone, Eve lay perfectly still for a moment, holding her phone tightly, fighting an overpowering urge to cry and then cry some more. She took several deep breaths before lifting herself back into the driver's seat and with another couple of deep breaths she started the engine to make the journey home, alone.
Looking in her rear-view mirror she caught sight of a tall, dark man, “Gray,” she called to herself, turning in her seat to get a better view of the man, but he was gone. “Go home, Eve,” she told herself, putting the car into gear.
Gray pulled into the hotel car park and pulled round a black Mini to park in his preferred position on the far side of the car park. He checked his appearance in the aptly named vanity mirror and climbed out. Checking out the other cars and any other patrons his eyes landed on a Mini where he was sure he could see a brunette behind the wheel until his message alert sounded on his phone, demanding his attention.
Hey Gray, if ur @ a loose end & fancy a beer Sam is out.
He composed a quick reply to Tim's message.
Unsure of plans, but may call by later.
Looking back up and returning his attention to the black Mini he could clearly see that the driver's seat was empty, no brunette, certainly no Eve. He really had to get laid one way or another.
As he entered The Stanford, Gray felt a sense of despondency wash over him; she wasn't here, he could feel it. He went through the motions of checking in and found the blonde receptionist hanging on his every word and whilst he'd always appreciated the adoring eyes of a pretty woman, he just found it annoying tonight.
“No Mrs Sharp tonight?” she asked optimistically.
“I was hoping so, but it would seem not.” He gestured to the empty space next to him.
“No offence, but I would never give up a chance to spend a night with my husband, if he were you,” she said with obvious flirtation in her voice.
“Is that so, Emma?” asked Gray, warming to her slightly. “It would seem that my wife is a very secure and trusting woman,” he said, wondering exactly what sort of woman his wife was.
“And is her trust well placed?” She leaned forward just enough to expose the top of her white, lace bra.
Gray couldn't deny that he did find Emma attractive and she did fit his sister's description of his 'usual' type, but was that enough tonight? He wasn't sure, not yet.
“Ah, now that is the real question, isn't it? Not so much what sort of wife leaves her husband staying at a hotel overnight alone, but what sort of husband stays at a hotel overnight alone? I shall ponder that one in the bar, but I have a feeling my wife's trust is well placed.” He grinned sardonically before turning and leaving a very disappointed looking Emma in his wake.
Gray ordered a single malt and sat at the bar on the same stool Eve had sat on exactly a fortnight before, the same stool where he remained for almost another hour. He was just draining the remainder of his drink, having already seen the guy who had manhandled his wife on his previous visit when he found a slightly drunk, statuesque brunette looking down at him.
“Hi there, handsome, are you looking to be single no more?” she asked, presumably referencing the dating site.
“Not really.” Gray smiled politely.
“May I?” She stared down, her rich brown eyes twinkling with a combination of alcohol and flirtation and gestured to the vacant stool next to him.
“Be my guest, I’m just leaving.” He stood, slipping off the stool.
“Oh.” She pouted. “That kind of makes this seat lose all of its appeal, stay for another drink and we can see where it leads us,” she said, fingering Gray's dark purple tie that was sitting against the lilac shirt that was covered by his black suit.
“I don't think that's a good idea.” Gray was backing away slightly in an attempt to free himself from her.
“Then let's think of a good idea together,” she persisted, making Gray laugh a little before realising that this online dating scene was more of a cattle market than he'd first realised. He was even more determined to locate Eve and get her away from this whole scene.
He laughed as he became aware of a song in the background, Martha's Harbour by All About Eve.
“This has got to be fate,” he said to himself, suddenly serious, but the lady still clinging to his tie assumed he was speaking to her.
“That's what I'm thinking. Come on, let's take this somewhere else.” Her free hand reached up and stroked his cheek.
“I'm really not interested, so if you'd let me go…”
Eve was halfway home when she pulled over and gave in to the tears that had been desperate to put in an appearance for almost a fortnight if not longer, for Max, for herself and most recently for Gray. Why hadn't she rejected Annette's call and gone into The Stanford? Even if he hadn't turned up, which he probably wouldn't have, she could have spoken to reception or the manager and played her wife card again, checked if he was due in, if she could leave him a message with them, he was a regular there, she’d figured that much, well if not a regular, he wasn't unknown to them.
Maybe that was what she should do, tomorrow, after meeting with Sally at Sharpstone; she'd go then and leave him another note with her details on and wait. If he didn't contact her then she would know for sure that he wasn't interested and understand that their night together really had been a one off, a freebie.
Wiping her face on a tissue she wondered why she was waiting for tomorrow. Her mother always told her as a child that tomorrow never came and although that had confused her for years as a small child, she completely understood the sentiment of it now. Restarting the engine, she put her car into gear and swung it around and travelled back to The Stanford.
Pulling back into the car park she no longer felt nervous, not like she had earlier. She felt confident that this was the right thing to do. She almost ran from the car park up into the hotel lobby where she noticed Emma, the receptionist standing behind the counter, desk, whatever it was called.
With an authoritative stride, she made her way to Emma and smiling said, “Hello.”
Looking up it took a second for it to register who she was, but as she did, Emma looked embarrassed initially and then it passed, “Mrs Sharp, how nice to see you again, we weren't expecting you this evening.”
Eve felt spurred on by her use of Mrs Sharp and found a welcome warmth flushing through her whole body at the memory of having been Mrs Sharp and being thought of as her again.
“No, I wasn't planning on being here this evening, but I was wondering if I could leave a message for Mr Sharp, for my husband,” she expanded unnecessarily. “A note,” she added.
“Of course,” replied a perplexed looking Emma. “I can leave it in his pigeonhole if you'd rather not see him personally.”
“Personally?” asked Eve feeling as though all oxygen had been removed from the environment momentarily.
“Are you okay?”
“Mmm, yes, fine, sorry. Mr Sharp's here?” she asked to clarify what Emma had said.
“Yes, he did say he was hoping you would join him, but he thought you were unable to,” Emma revealed.
Eve clung to the desktop, unsure whether her legs alone would support her as she realised that he’d done the same as her; returned here, hoping to meet her, only her, and he’d discussed it with Emma. Unless all his clients were Mrs Sharp for the time he was on the clock. No, she was sure he wouldn't do that, or would he? The confusion was beginning to kick in again, but she knew she couldn't keep wondering about her and Gray.
�
��Are you sure you're okay? Shall I send for Mr Sharp?” Emma asked, concerned.
“No, no. Is he in his room?” Eve picked up the pen Emma had provided her with.
“No, he's still in the bar I believe, where I imagine he'll be inundated with offers as we have a singles night in there as well as our regular customers,” Emma said, making Eve's pulse speed up slightly, querying whether he was in there working or hoping to bump into her again. “He rarely uses the public bar when he stays, he prefers the quiet, calmer atmosphere that the resident's lounge offers I think,” revealed Emma, unknowingly reassuring Eve, although Eve’s visit into the resident’s bar had been anything but calm with Gray’s hands touching her.
“Do you know what, Emma? I think I will go and surprise him as he's here. I thought he was meeting a client, maybe they've cancelled.” Eve sounded convincing to herself never mind Emma.
She returned the pen and immediately turned and strode towards the bar to find Gray and some answers before she had the chance to change her mind.
She saw him immediately, in the grips of a tall brunette, taller than Eve and considerably broader. Her breath caught in her throat as she absorbed the image before her; he was with another woman, he wasn't there for her, except she could see he was trying to release himself from the woman's grip. She was obviously one of the women Emma had been referring to who would inundate Gray with offers. “Not on my watch, lady,” muttered Eve dramatically as she approached them.
Gray had his back to her and the woman had hold of his tie with one hand while the other one was touching his cheek, stroking it.
She heard him tell her, “I'm really not interested so if you'd let me go.”
The woman seemed most reluctant to comply, so Eve decided that it was probably only right that she intervened as Gray had when she had been in a similar situation.
“Here you are.” She smiled at the speed with which Gray spun around at the sound of her voice and looked shocked, startled, but thrilled to find her there before him. Turning to the woman who still had hold of Gray's tie, she spoke, “You appear to be manhandling my husband, so if you'd be so kind as to take your hands off him, otherwise I will be forced to lay you out here and now.”
New Beginnings Page 5