I’d never been loved. I’d never not had a goal. Even when I’d realised I might need to quit my job I’d plastered over it by making rash plans to be of use here – but I couldn’t do that now. And here was a man offering me love, and a place to escape to, so maybe I should just stop resisting and fall in with everyone else I knew: settle down, live in an actual house, be part of a couple. If you can’t beat them, join them. It was pretty tempting.
He was being sweet, sweeter than I deserved.
‘I’ll think about it,’ I said with a sigh.
‘You will?’
‘I’ll think about coming to Florida. It could be good.’
‘What?’ Laurie’s voice screeched out behind me.
I turned, and there she was, standing in the doorway.
‘What did you just say about Florida?’
‘I’m thinking of taking George up on his offer and moving to Florida – for the summer, to begin with.’
Laurie marched over and grabbed me, dragging me towards the stairs. I smiled weakly at George, who was beaming. Laurie didn’t stop until we were inside my room with the door closed.
‘What the hell is going on? What have I missed? Where does Jamie fit into this?’
‘He doesn’t.’ I filled her in on everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours: the night with Jamie, the thoughts I’d had about moving out here and making this my new career, then the TripAdvisor reviews and finally Rachel.
Laurie hugged me hard. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I just want to escape, Laurie. I don’t want to have to think any more. I want to take the easy option.’
‘But shacking up with an old pervert is so not the easy option!’
‘He’s not that bad.’
She pulled back, examined me and rapped her knuckles on my forehead, which hurt quite a lot. ‘Hello? How utterly sloshed are you?’
‘Ow, not even a little bit.’
‘Then this has to be a joke, yes?’
‘No.’
‘Yes it is.’
‘Laurie, it isn’t. It’s not for definite yet, but it’s tempting. He’d take care of me, and maybe we’d be happy.’
‘Oh bleurgh,’ said Laurie. ‘You have never been one to want someone to take care of you, or just want to give it all up to get married, so snap out of it. So this one job’s turned out to be shit and potentially things have gone down the plughole with your new man. Welcome to that part of life where you get kicked in the fanny; it happens to everyone.’
‘Wow. Have you ever thought of writing poetry?’
‘I’m not trivialising it, I’m just saying that a couple of glitches doesn’t mean you should give up on your career or your love life.’
I picked at my fingernails and digested her words.
‘Stop being a bloody drama queen.’ Laurie grinned, and I cracked a guilty smile. ‘Look: I want to go to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios as much as the next person, but you cannot move to Florida and live with George.’
‘Yes I can. I can do whatever I want,’ I sulked.
‘All right, you have your crazy head on right now – moving to Florida with George, no less – so you’re going to have to stay in here for a while, and I’m going to do some digging.’
‘Digging for what?’
‘Anything. Have a bath.’
‘I had a bath a couple of hours ago.’
‘Have another one. It’s back to your tiny shower soon, so make the most of it.’
‘In Florida I might have my own bathroom with a huge Jacuzzi.’
‘Yes, with your sugar daddy sat in the other end of it. Stop this. I’ll be back in a while. You’re not to leave unless it’s to tell George that Florida is off.’
‘You’re annoying.’
‘You’re annoying! See you soon, and don’t leave this room.’ She stopped at the door and turned back to give me a thumbs-up. ‘And by the way, top work on losing your virginity!’
She was right – about George, I mean. I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t just want to get married or have someone to look after me. I didn’t need a man in my life so I shouldn’t be leading him on. Now I had to tell him no, and hurt his feelings. How did I let myself get into all this mess? What was wrong with me? I curled up on top of the bidet and had a good cry, which felt about as pathetic as it sounds.
Mid-afternoon, as I was scrolling aimlessly through celebrity gossip on my iPad, revelling in anything that described someone having a worse day than me, I got a knock on the door.
I heaved myself up and slouched over, feeling sorry for myself. On the other side was George, and I cursed myself for not checking the spy hole.
‘Elle, why don’t you come downstairs so we can talk about Florida?’
‘Not right now. I’m not allowed to leave my room.’
‘Who says?’
‘Laurie.’
‘Right … why?’
‘Because she’s bossy. Listen, about Florida—’
‘Shh, I won’t hear another word from you until you’ve listened to me. I’ve got something important to say, but I’d really rather do this downstairs.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I need to speak with Donna too, and while I may come off as a hot piece of ass, I don’t want to be seen going into a bedroom with two young ladies.’
I nodded and pulled my dressing gown, which I’d put on over my clothes, tighter around myself. We walked to Donna’s room together.
‘She might be out enjoying herself,’ I said glumly.
‘No, I saw her come upstairs a short while ago,’ George replied. I cast him a look. ‘I haven’t been watching her, I just noticed!’
Donna answered the door wearing her workout gear. ‘Hi, you two! I was just about to try going for a run again, but I got distracted by this hilarious Italian TV show. Come and have a look.’ I followed her into the room but George stayed demurely in the doorway. ‘I have no idea what’s going on, but these people have to stay on this mechanical surfboard as long as possible, while all these other people just laugh and laugh and laugh. It’s been going on for nearly eight minutes so far. George, come and see this.’
‘No thank you.’
‘Why?’
‘I’ll wait out here.’
I dragged my attention from the TV and shrugged at Donna. ‘I don’t know why he’s turned into this Good Christian Gentleman all of a sudden, but he wants to talk to us both, downstairs.’
Donna raised her eyebrows. ‘Okay … let me just change out of my running stuff and George, we’ll meet you down there. Elle, you stay with me a minute.’ She closed the door and came back over, peering at me. ‘You’ve been crying.’
‘Only a bit. Is it obvious?’
‘Only a bit. What’s happened? Are you still stressing about work?’
‘No. Well, that’s probably mixed in there, but … please don’t think any less of me … but Jamie’s ex-girlfriend just arrived.’
‘Oh bugger.’
‘Yep.’
‘Was that better or worse than when I arrived?’ she smiled.
‘Much worse. I didn’t cry about you being here, just had a mild heart attack.’
‘What did he do?’
‘Invited her in for a catch-up.’ That wasn’t really fair. ‘I’m sorry – boyfriend troubles seem so insignificant to the ones you have.’
‘Don’t be silly. Exes are just as evil as corporate wankers. Don’t tell anyone I called them that; best to maintain an air of don’t-give-a-fuckness. Now, are they back together?’
‘I don’t know – this all happened this morning, then Laurie banished me to my room, so for all I know they could be rolling about in the vines right now.’
‘I doubt it, but let’s go downstairs together, just in case of any nasty surprises.’
Donna changed into some lovely expensive-looking ‘loungewear’, which in my books would mean three-year-old tracky-bs and an ancient Foo Fighters tour T-shirt, but in her case it meant
soft grey yoga pants and a dusky pink cashmere waterfall cardigan.
As we reached the bottom of the stairs I peeped around the corner, nearly as fearful about seeing Laurie as I was about seeing Jamie and Rachel smooching on the sofas. But there was just George, surrounded by paperwork, and curled on another sofa across the room were Annette and Pierre, sucking face.
‘So, George, what is this about?’ asked Donna, no nonsense, as she sat down. I perched next to her, nervous about having to let George down after I got his hopes up.
‘All right,’ he said, pushing the papers aside and removing his glasses. He leaned forward and fixed Donna with a businesslike stare. ‘I want you to work for me.’
‘Pardon?’
‘I want you to move to Florida and work at my company. I have a vice-president position that’s become available and I’d like you to fill it.’
Donna looked around the room in confusion and then refocused on George. ‘You do realise I’m not a twenty-something in a pinstripe mini-skirt, right?’
‘Of course I do. I don’t want a twenty-something being my VP, I want someone with experience and brains. You’re a smart woman – a smart person – and your agency are being dumbasses. I want to poach you before they realise this, or before someone else gets a hold of you.’
‘George, I can’t just move to the US …’
‘It’ll be a change, I get that, but it’ll be more than that step-up you wanted. I’ll pay you double what you’re on now.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you have drive, and from the sounds of it you will be fully committed to your job and give it your all.’
‘You don’t know anything about my work ethic.’
‘We just spent a week and half together. I know I was a little preoccupied with this one for a while’ – he cocked his thumb at me – ‘but in the last couple of days you and I have gotten to know each other.’
This was news to me. I glanced at Donna.
‘Not in that way,’ she said quickly. ‘As friends. It turns out we have a little in common—’
‘Country music!’ George interrupted, and Donna cringed.
‘—and he’s actually a pretty good drinking partner.’
George continued: ‘Don, I’ve seen how you are with teamwork. I’ve heard honest feelings from you about your job. I’ve even seen how you act around one of your employees. I really don’t think I now need to ask you to take an interview.’
‘But I did the stupidest thing, I accepted this—’
‘Shh,’ I nudged. I couldn’t quite get my head around what was happening, but I didn’t want Donna talking herself down and screwing this up. I didn’t want to lose her, but this sounded like it could be just what she needed.
‘So you came on a singles’ vacation? So did I! How about I even write a clause in your contract to say we may never mention how we met to anyone else?’
Donna sat back in the seat, overwhelmed. ‘I just …’
‘Here’s the job description. It’s a little outdated, because our current VP has been with us for five years, but she’s moving to Alaska, of all damn places. I’ve scribbled a few extra responsibilities and some changes on the top, but I can update this for you properly if you’re interested.’ He handed her a card. ‘And this is the name of the president – she’s unbelievable. You can give her a call if you have any questions you don’t feel comfortable asking me.’
‘So your current VP and president are both women?’ asked Donna. I craned my neck to read the job description over her shoulder.
‘I can’t do anything about the fact that it’s a man who’s CEO, because it’s me, and I’m not ready to quit yet. But yes. Now, I’m not saying I wouldn’t hire a man if you rejected the offer; I just want to hire the best person, period.’
‘Well this is very interesting.’
‘Now you.’ He turned to me and I gulped. ‘I think you’re great, and you know that. But I know you’re smart, and you’re headstrong, and that head of yours isn’t in the right place at the moment. I’d love for you to come to Florida with me, for pleasure or for work, and therefore I’m leaving the offer open. When you’ve figured things out for yourself, if you decide you need a change of pace and want to work for me there’ll be a place for you. If you decide you want a couple of weeks away from all that London fog, or from the arms of a certain Italian, should that work out, you come over for a visit.’
For crying out loud, that set me off again. I furiously blinked back the tears. ‘Thank you,’ I sniffled.
‘I’m going to go and get some of those magic tear-mopping biscotti,’ said Donna with a smile, heading to the kitchen. George gathered up the paperwork and looked at me fondly.
‘You think about it, baby. I can just see you living in the Sunshine State.’
‘I will. Thanks, George, it’s an amazing offer.’
He walked away, and as I turned to watch him go I came face to face with Jamie, who’d come to a halt, mid-walk.
‘You’re going to Florida now?’ He looked stricken. What right did he have to look stricken?
‘Maybe I will.’
‘Well I’m so glad you didn’t waste any time, and that You Had Me at Merlot Holidays found a partner for you.’
‘And the same for you. Who would have thought we’d both end up happy at the end of this trip?’
‘He won’t make you happy, you know.’
‘I’ll be just fine – you obviously don’t know anything about me. Now, where’s your girlfriend?’
‘She’s … at my house, I guess. I’ve been out working all afternoon.’
The disdain in his face was back, and it seemed to be directed at me. How dare he? I’m just one of many to him, but he gets all stroppy if I want a life after him?
He walked away, and so did I.
The sun dipped behind the hills, and the vineyard was cast in early-evening shade. I gazed, chin resting on windowsill, at the little house beyond the vines. I’d been staring at it for a long time now, watching for any signs of life, any twitching of curtains, movements of bodies behind windows, a naked butt cheek pressed against the glass. But they were giving nothing away. Jamie and Rachel were obviously cocooned against the world, just the two of them, being all tender and love-makingy in his bed. Urgh.
Just as I was about to attempt to pull myself back from the window his door opened and she stormed out (fully clothed, hurrah!). I sprang to attention, watching with unblinking eyes and holding my breath, as if I might be able to hear their conversation without that noise.
Rachel began striding towards the house and Jamie followed after her, grabbing her by the hand and spinning her back around. She wrenched her hand away, they both said some things with manic gesticulations and then she pointed up to the main house. I ducked my head, waited a very short moment and slowly rose again.
She was making a big deal of wiping her eyes and shaking her shoulders, while he stood near by looking helpless. I wished, wished, I could hear what they were saying. Especially when what happened next happened.
Perhaps I blinked and missed something. Perhaps I can’t remember because I’m blocking it out like post-traumatic stress. But one minute they looked like they were fighting, and the next he’d pulled her into him, strong hands on her arms and his face pressing against hers, kissing her like he couldn’t stop the emotion pouring out any longer.
But it should have been me. It was me, and I’d been replaced, and I could never have it back. I was doing fine on my own before him, but now without him I felt broken and cast aside and how was I going to find the strength to come back from that? How had I even allowed myself to get to that place to begin with?
Jamie and Rachel broke apart. He stepped away from her and turned his head towards the main house. Rachel smoothed her hair. Jamie held out his arm and she led the way back into his home, and all I was left with was another closed door and a gentle water-feature of tears.
I was the Queen of the Miseryguts. I ate a pizza dinner
on my own, in my room, while I tried to figure out what to do with my life, and simultaneously tried not to think about it by channel-surfing Italian TV. I was chowing into my final slice when there was a swift knock on my door and in barged Laurie.
‘Elle,’ she said, grabbing my hand and chucking the pizza back onto the plate. She pulled me up and wiped my mouth with the back of her hand. ‘I’ve just been talking to Sofia, and I think there’s something you need to hear.’
She dragged me to the kitchen, where Sofia sat at the table wringing her hands. When we entered she leapt up and pulled me into a hug. ‘Elle, I saw Rachel outside Jamie’s house. I’m so sorry she’s come back.’
‘It’s okay. I know he’s your son, but I think I had a lucky escape – I didn’t realise how involved he’d been with previous guests.’
‘But he wasn’t. You mustn’t believe that.’
‘I read reviews from countless women saying how Jamie was amazing, and romantic, and made this trip for them.’
‘No, those aren’t what they seem. Jamie is very attractive, and the female guests fall over themselves to get him to notice them, but he hates it. He hates being viewed like a piece of meat – I know he does, so he always stays away as much as possible. And I’ve had more than one complaint from male guests about how even when he’s barely around he is overshadowing them.’
‘But Sofia, he’s your son. He probably does a lot more than he tells you about.’
‘Do boys ever really get away with things and think no one notices? Us women notice everything. All those other girls had to admire him from a distance, whether they liked it or not.’
‘It’s true,’ said Laurie. ‘I spent some time on TripAdvisor this afternoon, writing comments on all the reviews those women left, asking whether they actually hooked up—’
‘What is “hooked up”?’ Sofia interrupted.
Laurie tried to think of a mum-friendly way of putting it. ‘It means, if they ever kissed him … or whatever.’
‘Oh. Oh! Carry on.’
‘So, quite a few of them have replied, and what Sofia’s saying is right. Listen to this.’ She pulled her phone out of her pocket and scrolled. ‘“OMG, Jamie! He was such a hottie. All looking but no touching, unfortunately. Still, worth every penny.”’
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