Oh Christ. Follow. How could he possibly tell if Summer had been followed? I should have made her stay with me. Now it was too late.
Jai shivered as he left the building and headed for the car park. All Summer was wearing was a thin dress and his sweater. How far was she going? Whereabouts was her family waiting? Not in the arrivals hall. Why not? She’d been away for eighteen months. Why weren’t they there to welcome her home? She’d not called them. They hadn’t called her.
Oh shit. She’d lied. She didn’t even want to go to her sister’s wedding. No one was coming to meet her. Anxiety nibbled at his stomach. I need a pill.
“Get in and shut the fucking door,” Krista called from inside the limo.
He’d never find her now. Jai sat beside Krista and clipped on his seat belt. “Put the privacy screen up, please,” he said to the driver.
Krista sighed when they were cut off from the front of the vehicle. “I’m not your type, darling.”
“I’m not gay,” he spluttered. Though there were a lot of men who thought otherwise and a lot more who didn’t care.
“I am. Saul’s really pissed off. Some wanker snapped me and Desi snogging at Jalouse. I’m under orders to make it look like we’re still an item. Saul told you the same, right?”
“Right.” Not quite. All Saul had texted was, Make it look like u can’t wait to fuck Krista.
Jai settled back and stared out the window. He should have kept Summer at his side. The whole time he’d been with her, he hadn’t wanted to take anything. He hadn’t even gotten drunk on the plane. I need her.
So find her.
How many meteorologists out there were called Summer? One with a sister called Angelina who was getting married next Saturday in Kent? He took out his phone, turned aside and went on Google.
By the time they’d arrived at the shoot, he’d come up with nothing.
Chapter Eight
After she’d spooned two mouthfuls of strawberry jam between her lips and felt disappointed it failed to live up to her expectations, Summer made herself beans on toast. She wondered if Jai was eating the same but suspected he wasn’t. Krista Mills wouldn’t eat anything so ordinary. She—
Stop thinking about Jai and Krista Mills.
She sat at the counter to go through her mail. Mostly circulars because she paid all her bills online, but a handful of old friends who hadn’t realized she was out of the country had sent Christmas cards. She’d spent last Christmas Day kite surfing on a beach in Chile, wondering if her family missed her at all.
One item of mail was set aside. A card from Vargus Shipping telling her they had a consignment waiting for her and she needed to call to arrange delivery. Not only did the box contain company meteorological equipment, and a lot of her clothes, it also held Angelina’s wedding present and gifts for her family.
Summer took everything out of her backpack and plugged in her laptop. She wanted a shower, then a nap, but first she clicked into Google.
There was a whole page about Jai on Wikipedia.
Jai Winter (born 17 August in Montpelier, France) is a British model. He has a twin brother Richard Winter, and an older brother Evan Winter, member of Parliament for Haverton West. Jai left school at eighteen and went straight into the fashion industry. He’s currently the lead male model for French designer Fixx and has also done work for Lacoste, Prada and Gucci.
A scan of the rest revealed names of the supermodels he’d worked with, the awards he’d won—best newcomer, most beautiful eyes, best male model of the year—and the companies who used him to promote their products. She clicked off the page. He was light years away from her world.
She fished out the key to the closet where she’d stored all her personal items and unlocked it. Everything was neatly shelved just as she’d left it, and she plucked out towels and a basket of her toiletries, together with sheets, duvet and pillows. Once she’d made her bed, she drew the curtains and stripped. Jai’s sweater landed accidentally on purpose on her pillow.
After she’d showered and cleaned her teeth, she went to get her phone from the kitchen and crawled into bed with it, hugging Jai’s sweater. Talking to her mother was best done with a drink handy. At this time of the morning, Jai’s sweater would have to do.
“Hello,” her mother said.
Summer took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of Jai. “I just called to tell you I’m back.”
“In one piece?”
Heaven forbid she should spoil the wedding photos. “Yes, apart from the two black eyes.”
“What?” her mother screeched.
“A joke,” Summer mumbled.
“Which was not funny. You know how important the day is to Angelina. Nothing must go wrong.”
Yeah, because I’m the one who made everything go wrong last time.
“When are you arriving? Your father will drive to the station and collect you.”
“Not today,” she mumbled. “I’m jet-lagged. I only flew in this morning. I missed the flight the night before. I’ll come tomorrow.”
The deep sigh told her she’d disappointed her mother yet again. “Everything always has to be at your convenience. You could have flown back earlier but no, you had to leave it until the last minute and now you’re a day late. There’s so much to do. We need all the help we can get.”
“I’m too tired to be of any use today. I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Fine,” her mother snapped and the phone went dead.
“Are you tired, sweetheart? Oh dear. Try to have a little sleep. Remember to drink plenty. We’re looking forward to hearing all about South America and checking out your four thousand and fifty-six photographs. See you soon. Love you.”
Summer gave a short laugh. If any of that had come out of her mother’s mouth, she’d have dropped dead with shock.
I’m not in one piece, Mum, no. Except the broken part wasn’t visible. She’d left the country with her heart in a fragile state and returned with a few more cracks. Tugging Jai’s sweater close to her chest, she curled up and closed her eyes.
* * * * *
When she opened them again, she’d slept for exactly one hour but didn’t feel tired anymore. After another shower, she dressed in warm clothes and decided she might as well arrange delivery of her box.
“Next Monday?” Summer groaned. “You can’t get it here any sooner? I thought you’d be able to bring it today.”
“No, sorry. No drivers available.”
“Can I come and get it?”
“If you bring ID and proof of your address. We’re open until six.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
If she didn’t give Angelina and Tim their wedding present before the wedding, she’d never be allowed to forget it. Plus she’d packed a surprise she hoped Angie might like in the marquee—a thousand blue-and-yellow paper butterflies purchased in Chile that could be strung to hang from the roof. They were handmade, and so pretty she hadn’t been able to resist.
Summer grabbed her brown leather purse from the closet and transferred some of the items she’d taken from her backpack. She never went anywhere without the flash drives that backed up her computer data. She’d emailed some of it to work but the connections had been too slow for her to send everything. She dumped the Colombian pesos and returned the sterling to her wallet, stuffed in the card from Vargus Shipping, found a bank statement and picked up her cloud book.
A piece of paper fluttered out. She bent to pick it up and her heart jumped. Beneath a phone number was written, Just in case x Jai. He’d drawn a picture of a cloud with a smiley face.
When had he put it there? Before or after she’d told him about her suitcase? And now he’d lobbed the ball into her court. She’d have to contact him. If she wanted to. Summer tapped the number into her phone and slipped the cloud book into her bag.
When she glanced in the mirror on the way out of her flat, she was smiling.
Vargus Shipping was north of the Thames. She wouldn’t be able to bring back t
he entire box because apart from the fact that it was too heavy to lift, a cab would cost a fortune and it was too big to fit in one anyway. But she could take out the presents and have the box delivered next week. She hadn’t asked if they’d let her do that, but figured they were less likely to say no if she turned up and explained.
It had stopped snowing, but she was glad of her hat and gloves. She made her way into Greenwich through the park. Kids were already sledging down the hill. She liked living here. Eighteenth-century minds had seen Greenwich as the center of the universe, and outside the observatory, at the top of the hill, was a line that marked the place where east meets west, the meridian. The town was full of buildings of historical significance, close enough to London to make commuting easy but far enough out that it felt like another world. There were funky shops, great places to eat, and it was somewhere she felt at home.
It took nearly two hours to get to Vargus Shipping, which was in the middle of a trading estate in Feltham, and another twenty minutes to persuade them to let her have some of the box but not all. After she’d spoken to the manager and explained about the wedding, he’d let her borrow a knife and given her tape to reseal the container. When she opened it, everything looked the same as when she’d packed it and she heaved a sigh of relief. She’d already placed all the presents inside a soft bag when she was in Bogota, so it was simply a matter of slinging that over her shoulder.
On the way back to the station, she heard her phone and smiled when she saw who was calling.
“Hi, Mags.”
Her friend gave a loud squeal. “Ooh, you answered.”
Summer laughed.
“You were supposed to be back yesterday. What happened? Please tell me you’re in the UK and I’m not spending a zillion quid a minute on roaming charges.”
“Back in London a day late. There was so much snow at Philadelphia that the airport closed. I had to stay overnight.”
“You missed your welcome home party.”
Summer winced. “Sorry.”
“Only kidding. It’s tonight. I left it one day because I knew you’d be tired. Sorry, you’re probably too tired now. Have you got to go to Canterbury?”
“I’m fine. And not until tomorrow.”
“The gang’s meeting at seven at The Three Angels in Islington. Want to come to mine first? I’m working from home today. We can get pissed before we go out.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not ridiculously tanned are you? Because I might have to kill you.”
“Ahh. Maybe I’m too tired to come.”
Mags laughed. “See you later.”
Summer scrolled to Jai’s number and called him before she could change her mind. Please let him not answer. He didn’t.
“Hi, it’s me. You’ll be pleased to hear I’m not languishing in a prison cell. I…I’m glad you left your number.” Fuck it. Glad? “Not glad. Thrilled. Shit. Over the top. Very pleased. Really pleased. Before I gag myself, if you’re not busy and fancy a drink, I’m meeting some friends in The Three Angels in Islington at seven. Want to come?”
She ended the call. Now the ball was back in his court.
* * * * *
Jai’s driver Bruno dropped Krista off on the way to the shoot. The press had the photos they needed and Saul would be happy, temporarily at least. Amazing how much better Jai felt with Mr. and Mrs. Fuckwit a couple of thousand miles away. He knew Marta had been angry he hadn’t been able to stay longer at the villa but that was Saul’s fault. He was the one who’d gotten Jai this job.
Bruno pulled up next to the Thames outside The Design Museum and came ’round to open the door.
“Give me a call when you need collecting,” he said. “I’ll park nearby.”
Jai stepped carefully through the snow and the door opened before he reached the building.
Pin McClean, Fixx’s art director, glared at him. “You’re late.”
“I’ve come straight from Heathrow. The traffic was terrible.” It’s not my bloody fault.
Pin led him to the Blueprint Café on the first floor. Everything was set up and Jai winced when he saw the hostile faces. He’d kept wardrobe, lighting and makeup waiting, let alone the producer and director who worked for Levant. Pin introduced them.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Jai said. “I’ve come straight from the airport but the snow’s brought traffic to a standstill.”
“Well, you’re here now,” Pin said and slapped him on the back.
“I like the suit, slightly rumpled,” said Leo, Levant’s art director. “Back to the window. Tower Bridge and the city behind. Snow. Perfect.” He clapped his hands. “In here first then out to the tank.”
The tank? Am I swimming? Posing with an army vehicle?
Jai switched into work mode. He did exactly what he was told, when he was told without questioning, without speaking. He didn’t react when the male dresser deliberately fondled his cock. Nor did he ask for a drink though he was desperate for a coffee. He learned not to react to the director’s habit of clapping and he sat, stood, leaned, smiled, stared and sulked until they were happy they’d gotten what they wanted.
A surreptitious check of his watch told him it was almost three. His stomach rumbled.
“We keeping you?” the director snapped.
“I wondered if I could have a drink.”
The hands clapped. “Molly. Drink. Now.”
“Black coffee, please.” Jai smiled at the wide-eyed assistant.
Jai changed clothes five times. He was expected to strip off in front of everyone, including the lecherous dresser, but he’d lost all modesty years ago and he got to keep on his shorts. As with everything in modeling, he knew the quicker he cooperated, the sooner it would be over.
“Okay. Getting dark. Last shots outside in the tank. Just you with the bottle of Fixx’s fragrance. Clothes off,” said the director. “All of them. Black wings on.”
Oh fuck. “You can’t use a shot of me naked in the magazine,” Jai said. Aside from the fact that if the police turned up, he’d get arrested for offending public decency.
“We won’t be showing anything other than your backside. Don’t worry.” The producer smirked.
“It’s fine, Jai,” Pin said. “Trust them.”
Fuck it. Jai removed all his clothes, wrapped a towel around his waist, and the dresser helped him put on a heavy pair of large, black-feathered wings. He slipped on his shoes and went downstairs with the crew. The snow had started to fall more heavily, thick flakes settling on the ground, though the likelihood of any significant accumulation was small in central London. The city gave off too much heat. Not that he could feel it at the moment. He stood shivering while they set everything up and then took off his shoes and stepped into the glass box that overlooked the river. Once he’d handed the towel to the dresser, he draped a wing over his crotch in case he scared the pigeons.
“Okay, folks,” said Levant’s producer. “We have to be quick. It’s fucking freezing and we don’t need anyone calling the police. Plus there’ll be condensation on the glass once Jai starts breathing.”
Sorry to be such an inconvenience.
Leo ran through what he wanted Jai to do and handed him the silver bottle of Fixx for Men with black wings on the front, before they closed him in the glass tank. He had to trust that Pin wouldn’t let them use shots of his cock. Jai sat with his shoulders hunched, his wings spread, the bottle in his hands. He lay flat on his back, on his front, he leaned against the glass. He rested his hands on it, he did everything but make love to it.
By the time they let him out, he could barely feel his fingers and toes.
“We need some shots by the lamppost with the city in the background,” Leo said.
Jai stood barefoot in the snow and did exactly what he was told. The snow settled on his eyelashes and he felt as though he was going to freeze to death. When he couldn’t stop his jaw trembling, Leo gave in and the dresser handed Jai the towel. He slipped his frozen feet into his
shoes and hurried back into the museum and up to the warmth of the café. All that for possibly three photos.
Molly pushed a mug of coffee into his shaking hands.
“Thanks.”
One sip and he was asked to put it down while they removed the wings.
“Careful with them,” Leo shouted.
Yes, because they matter and I don’t.
When the dresser began to rub a towel over his body, Jai caught his arm. “I’m fine, thanks.”
He toweled himself dry and dressed while everyone was packing up.
“Good job, folks,” said the producer. “Thanks, everyone.”
Jai wondered if that included him.
Pin strode over. “You okay? You look half-frozen.”
“Only half?”
He laughed. “Good afternoon’s work. They’re going to use one of those lamppost shots on the cover.”
“Great.” Jai made himself smile.
He wanted a hot bath, bed and pills. Maybe pills first.
“Want to grab something to eat?” the dresser whispered.
Fuck off and die. “No thanks.”
Jai took out his phone to call Bruno and saw he had a message from an unknown number. He smiled when he heard Summer’s voice, smiled harder when he listened to what she’d said. Then sagged when he saw the time. There was no way he could get there for seven.
He called Bruno. “I’m ready now.”
“Five minutes.”
While Jai waited, he texted Summer. wait 4 me x J
As he climbed into the car he realized that if Bruno dropped him off in Islington, he’d tell Saul. Did it matter? It wasn’t as if it were Summer’s house. And while he would have been far more cautious about asking Duke to take him somewhere other than his place, Bruno had never been involved in Saul and Marta’s games.
“I need to go to Islington,” he said.
“Okay.”
The car pulled onto Tower Bridge to make the crossing to north of the river.
“Anywhere particular in Islington?”
Jai looked at the snow. He didn’t want to trek up and down in a thin suit and unsuitable shoes looking for a pub. “The Three Angels.”
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