by Olivia Fox
There had been a few hiccups organizing the Venetian bar. What the hell does a Venetian bar look like anyway? Lily’d said, after the fifth confused catering company had failed to come through with the goods. But Cayley had managed to pull a few strings, and had organized a regular cocktail bar with some additional flourishes, and flouncy ornamentation. And by Thursday, everything was right on schedule. The prep team would be busting a gut at Hatherly the following day, but today, for the first time all week, they were taking it easy.
By 5pm on the dot, the girls were swiping out of Bellevue, catching the tube into the West End, to meet Emma from work.
The window display to Thrills, was a head-turner - at least it would have been, had the shop been anywhere but Soho. As it was, the burlesque-styled mannequins with their feather fans and nipple tassels got their fair share of glances but few people seemed to be going in.
Emma was leaning on the counter with a glazed look of deep-set distraction, when Lily and Cayley entered the shop.
The only remaining customer - a young woman with a fondness for black - gave the newcomers a furtive glance, before returning a leather corset to its rack, and leaving the store.
“Slow day?” asked Lily.
Emma nodded. “Uh-huh. Slow and weird. Tom came by,” she said.
Lily’s guts entwined into something resembling a pretzel. “What did he want?”
Emma shrugged, “I couldn’t say for sure. It was kind of like he’d stopped by to flash his cash. Said he was just passing and wanted to say ‘hi’ - which sounded like bollocks, but he kept going on about how he was going to get a big payout sometime soon - said he was planning on a big blow-out holiday and…” she paused.
“What?” Cayley was enthralled.
“It doesn’t matter. Anyway, I told him straight out that he can’t drop by like we’re old friends. I’m not Switzerland. I’ve chosen my side and he can fuck off, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Yeah yeah,” said Cayley, “We know that part. But what doesn’t matter?!”
Emma looked at Lily.
“Go on,” Lily said. “Just say it.”
Emma looked deeply uncomfortable. “Well,” she said, “he asked me if I wanted to go with him. It was weird, Lily. He must have known I’d tell him to go fuck himself. But he was coming on all flirtatious anyway, like he wanted - well -” she looked embarrassed. “Like he wanted me to do exactly what I’m doing right now… I’m such an idiot. I guess he’s just trying to hurt you. Trying to show you he’s moved on. Prick.”
But Lily knew it was more than that. Flirting with Emma was just his way of twisting the knife in. Tom’s main reason for dropping by was the money. He was gloating - letting Lily know he was bribing Seb for all he could get. But why hadn’t Seb said anything? Lily wondered if Seb even knew. She resolved to phone Grayson and take it up with him when she got home.
“You OK, honey?” Emma asked her, looking contrite.
“Sure, I’m fine. It’s not your fault - stop looking so guilty,” she said. She was trying her best to sound nonchalant, but the expressions on her friends’ faces told her they weren’t convinced. “Anyhow,” Lily went on, “are we going to lock up shop and get coffees or what?”
“Coffees?” Cayley sighed. “What d’ya say we go back for more cocktails? It’s early. We can go to that gorgeous new sushi place off Tottenham Court Road and get something light to munch; we could be at the bar by 7, and we’d have the place to ourselves for a good gossip. Then by 9 o’clock - 10 at the latest - we’ll be ready to go home and get some beauty sleep. Come on ladies, the night is young!”
True to form, Cayley had the evening all mapped out. Five minutes ago, Lily would have jumped at the chance to unwind with the girls; she was conscious that her secretiveness was getting in the way of her friendships, and she didn't like it one bit. Some girl-time was sorely needed. But right now she just wanted to make that phone call, and she wanted to do it in the privacy of her own flat.
Emma was looking at her expectantly. The day Emma said ‘no’ to an evening out would be the day she started picking up her pension.
Lily felt bad. She’d seen so little of Emma since she’d started this job, but they’d just have to arrange something for a later date. “Sorry,” she said, “We never fixed a plan. I’m shattered.”
“First round’s my shout?” said Cayley.
“Thanks but no. But next week, definitely. I promise. My shout,” Lily replied. Unless you guys want to go ahead without me? I don’t mind,” she said, knowing they wouldn’t. Emma wasn’t great one-on-one with Cayley.
“No, next week’s fine,” Emma sighed, unlocking the till to count the takings. “Just let me do this, and we’ll grab those coffees.”
Cayley looked mildly put out, but soon seemed happy enough perusing the crotchless knickers while Emma busied herself with the till. Lily, all the while, replayed what Emma had said about Tom. If he was being paid off, why hadn’t anyone told her?
An hour on, as they sat in Nude Espresso, draining their mugs, Lily was still puzzling over the same conundrum. She’d been so totally distracted that she’d hardly been present while Cayley grilled Emma on her maybe-relationship with her boss. And later, as they weaved through the crowds to Leicester Square Underground, Lily kept finding herself having rushed way ahead of the others, so keen was she to get going.
“Lily!” Emma shouted, as her friend disappeared out of view for the umpteenth time. “Wait up!”
Lily brought herself to a standstill in the tube station entrance. “Sorry, I was daydreaming,” she said.
Emma studied Lily’s face, looking deflated. “It’s the Tom thing isn’t it. I’m such a fucktard. Sorry. I’ve gone and screwed up the evening, haven’t I?”
Lily offered her the best smile she could muster. “Don’t be daft. I’m just knackered. Work’s been full-on, not that you’d know it to look at Miss Bionic Woman over there.”
“I heard that,” said Cayley.
“But I promise, next time I’ll be on top form - all singing all dancing - you won’t recognize me with all the enthusiasm.”
Emma was still scrutinizing her friend’s expression. “Next time, just be the Lily we know and love,” she said. “Not that we don’t love preoccupied-Lily. Well, you know what I mean.”
Lily hugged Emma first, then pulled Cayley into the mix.
“OK. So, you’re both taking the Piccadilly Line, right? Em, I’ll text you. Cayley, see you bright and early.”
Lily finally waved her friends goodbye, and watched as they soon became absorbed into the rush-hour crowds. Then, she joined the Northern Line bustle, managing to just about squeeze onto the next train, between two very sweaty work men. Oh yes - London life was all glamour. With some difficulty, narrowly avoiding being maimed by a speeding suitcase, she switched trains at Embankment, and hurtled up the District Line to her final destination.
Once she’d eased herself free from the squish of commuters, she hot-footed it down Whitechapel Road, arriving back home in record time.
She kicked off her shoes, heading straight into her living room, and slung her coat over the arm of the sofa. Then, as soon as she’d caught her breath, she grabbed her mobile and dialed up Grayson Paige.
His phone rang and rang. Just as Lily thought she’d be put onto voice-mail, he answered. “Hey, Lily, what’s up?” The words were friendly enough, but his voice lacked its standard sparkle.
She took a deep breath before speaking. “I’ve just been with a friend - she saw Tom earlier today, and he said something strange - maybe I’m panicking over nothing -”
“What did he say?”
“Well,” she began, “he said he had a big lump-sum of cash coming in soon. Does he mean - well - has he demanded money?”
For a couple of seconds there was just silence, then Grayson sighed. “I got an email from Tom this morning, “ he said. “And yeah. He wants money. Sometimes I really question your taste in men, you know.”
She ignored the slight, focusing only on the horror of her ex-boyfriend’s behaviour. She’d always known he was proud; it was the ugly flip-side of the charisma she’d been attracted to all those years ago, but she’d never have guessed he’d go quite so far to protect his ego.
“How much?” She asked.
Grayson’s tone was hard to read. It was like he was pissed with her one second then pally the next. “That's not the issue,” he said. “It doesn't matter how much we give him, he'll just come back wanting more. And you know what the really shit part is?! If he goes public, it won’t be Seb who’ll loose out. It’ll be Ana. And none of this was her fault.”
“I know.”
“Yeah, well - seems Tom doesn't give a shit who he's screwing over so long as he gets his payback.”
The weight of her guilt was growing unbearable. “I'm sorry,” she said.
He didn’t respond to her apology. “Did your friend tell you Tom’s quit his job? My threats don't carry any weight now. We’re running out of options.”
“I'll go see him. Try to talk some sense into him,” she said. The idea of a confrontation filled her with a nauseating dread, but surely the semi-reasonable Tom was lurking somewhere in there. If she could just get him to sit down and listen to her side of the story…
“Don't bother. Look, I told him we might be able to strike a deal,” Grayson told her, “I was just buying time at first, but I think maybe I'm coming up with something.”
“What?” Please God, anything to get us out of this mess, she thought.
“I won't bore you with the details right now. And look - I haven't said anything to Seb or Ana yet. I will if and when we get to breaking point, but let's keep our cool until we've run out of options, huh?”
He hasn’t told Seb… Lily puzzled over this. Didn’t he - and Ana for that matter - deserve to know if they were about to get screwed over.
She tried to sound calm, but her words gave her away. “So, if Seb asks me about Tom - what - you want me to lie to him?” she said.
“That’s your call,” he said, “Personally, I won’t be the one to fuck up his first big show, getting him strung out over nothing. But, if you want to tell him, go right ahead.”
“And what if it’s not nothing?”
“Then what difference does it make if you tell him now or when he gets back?!” Grayson sounded like he was losing patience.
He had a point. Lily didn’t exactly relish the idea of ruining Seb’s good time either.
“Are you mad at me?” She asked.
Another pause followed. “Of course I’m not,” he finally said, though to Lily’s mind there was no of course about it. “I’m just trying to deal with this the best I can. Look, we’ll talk more when you come by tomorrow. But in the meantime, d’you wanna tell me if you’re intending to say something to Seb? Cos if you are then I’ve gotta let Ana know too - I don’t want her finding out second hand.”
“No, no. You’re right, I guess. We can tell him when he gets back.” She sighed; this felt like another brick in a growing wall between her and Seb. But it would only be temporary. And if Grayson could solve the Tom situation without involving Seb, then all the better.
“Atta girl. We’ll catch up tomorrow, OK?” he said.
“OK,” she agreed. “See you then.”
She sat there, staring into the middle distance for a good long while after the conversation had ended. The speed at which Grayson could flit between moods was a little unnerving. It was only natural, she supposed, that he should be uptight. Only natural that he should blame her for the problem. Still there was something in the way he spoke that nagged at her. Something off-kilter. She told herself to let it go. After living so long with Tom’s jealous moods, she’d no doubt grown paranoid.
Still. There was something.
17
By 7:20 the following morning, the prep team were piling into the Bellevue van, ready to roll. They were on strict orders to be at Hatherly by 9 at the latest, so they'd be present to receive deliveries. That way, they’d be able to avoid letting unauthorized personnel into building.
Lily, buckled herself in and clung tight to her first coffee of the morning, currently rendered undrinkable by the jiggling van. She wasn't too bothered. Sooner or later she'd drink it, the caffeine would sink in, and she'd gradually become cogent enough to start worrying about the day ahead. And there was much in store to trigger anxiety. Not only did she have the awkwardness with Grayson to contend with, she'd also be expected to act all smiley and sunny with poor Ana. God only knows how much damage Tom could do, Lily thought. And it'd all be down to me. Effing brilliant. On top of this, she was hyper aware of all the secrets she was keeping from Cayley. The day ahead promised to be a major guilt-fest. So yeah, for the time being, fog-headed caffeine deprivation seemed like the lesser of two evils.
Getting out of London took twice as long as it should have, but as Rob so eloquently put it, city traffic’s a munt-humping bitch. Soon enough though, they were entering the greener surroundings of Hertfordshire, well on their way to England’s raunchiest manor house. As they neared Hatherly, Gav and Rob seemed to reanimate, busying themselves with techno-chatter. Cayley was less stressed than she had been pre-bacchanal, as thankfully this time round they wouldn’t be quite so pushed for time. All the same, she was starting to mutter under her breath, running through the endless list of tasks they’d be undertaking today.
The prep team were hailed in through Hatherly’s security gates by the elderly house-keeper Lily now knew to be called Mr Lines. They parked up and got to work, with mobiles at the ready, anticipating the arrival of their many orders. Cayley had collected the bespoke dress the previous day, which she now carried along with a truck load of sex toys; the idea of replacing the toys after each soiree seemed wasteful to Lily. Though she had to admit she found the notion of sharing a vibrator pretty repellent, no matter how clean it was. She and the guys carried various decorative delights; silver candelabras, feathered wall hangings, fat velvet cushions… for any other one-day event, the supply list would have seemed excessive. But Hatherly’s clientele paid for, and expected, grandeur.
Grayson, dressed in his grey, tailored office gear, was there to meet them as they stepped into the entrance hall. He greeted the team in his easy, casual way; flirting a little with Cayley and complimenting Gav on his sound system set-up which had, he told them, been excellently received at the bacchanal. Yep, thought Lily. Grayson Paige is quite the charmer.
Once Cayley had allocated jobs to the others, she went in search of a step ladder, leaving Lily to sort the wall hangings into groups according to the various rooms they were to be hung in. Grayson grabbed this opportunity to talk to Lily alone.
“So, are we OK, you and me?” he asked her, doe eyed, as though the answer to his question was solely down to Lily.
She looked at him from her crouched position on the hall floor, not sure how to respond. He fluttered his eyelashes at her, looking so ludicrous that it was impossible for her not to smile.
“You tell me,” she sighed. “Look, I feel mega-guilty over all this shit Tom’s up to, and if you’re mad at me I get it - I can cope with it. But it’s like one minute you’re pissed, the next you’re my best buddy - I don’t know where I am with you.”
Grayson groaned in frustration. “I told you already, I’m not mad at you. You’re too sexy to get mad at.” But Lily’s expression told him to cut the crap. She wasn’t Cayley. He couldn’t just butter her up and have things go his way. “OK, fine,” he said, “I was mad - just a little - just a teeny smidge - but not really at you, just at the situation.” He knelt down to her level. “I guess it just came over that way when we spoke because I was still getting it all straightened out in my head.” He looked genuinely contrite. “So, are we OK?” This time there was no phony eyelash fluttering.
Lily nodded. It was less what Grayson was saying, more the humble way he said it, but it finally felt like he was lowering his suave-socialite mask, s
howing her a glimpse of the fallible human underneath.
“OK then,” he smiled, leaning in to gently kiss her cheek, then swiftly moving back - from the sounds of the approaching footsteps, they’d soon be having company.
Mr Lines strode into view holding a small package; a box, wrapped in a plastic waterproof film.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but this arrived for you earlier, Miss Wilde.” He passed it to her, and sure enough it was addressed to Miss L. Wilde.
What the… “Thanks,” she uttered, confused. She looked at Grayson, but he merely shrugged.
“From Seb, I guess?” he said. “If you wanna open it in the office, go ahead. You know - for privacy.” He winked as he said it - obviously well versed in Seb’s idea of a gift.
Seeing as the last present Seb had given her was a vibrating love egg. Lily followed Grayson’s advise, grabbing her bag, and heading into the office. She hastily tore off the plastic outer-wrapping, not wanting her absence to be noticed by Cayley. Inside the wrapper was a note: Admit it - you need one of these. Seb x
Lily knew immediately what it was; even if she hadn’t seen the apple on the side of the box, she'd have guessed. It was just like Seb to buy her a phone even though she'd specifically told him not to. She stowed it in her bag. No way she'd be able to explain the gift to Cayley, and anyway, Lily would be sending it straight back to the store at the first possible opportunity. If she wanted a new phone she'd buy one.
"High-handed son-of-a-gun," she muttered.
"Seb?" Ana stood in the doorway, barely awake, wearing the satin dressing gown she'd previously lent Lily. She drew closer, kissed Lily good morning and peered into her bag at the package. “What is it?" she asked.
“An iphone… an iphone that’s going back to the supplier.”
“Why? Is it broken?” Ana asked, stifling a yawn.
Oh great. How do I explain this to someone who’s got money coming out of every orifice? “It’s fine as far as I know. It’s just I told him not to get it - these things cost a bomb. There are tonnes of cheaper smart-phones that’d do the same job. And I’m probably due an upgrade so -”