Wonderwall

  “Welcome,” most say in unison, while others simply nod and raise their glasses.

  I take a seat next to a guy wearing a Minions t-shirt under his trim jacket. His dark hair is styled to perfection and he’s wearing more perfume than me.

  He offers me his hand. “Hi, I’m Lloyd. In which department are you interning?”

  “Events.”

  Lloyd lets go of my hand to cover his chest. “No shit. I work in the events department. Mellie is going to be so jealous that I got to meet you first.”

  “Hey, Liv!” Yoann hollers from the opposite end of the long table. “It’s tradition for fresh meat to buy everyone a round of drinks.”

  Even with the distance and poor illumination, I can see the corners of Yoann’s dark eyes crinkle. I have the feeling he likes to prank people. I turn to Lloyd and whisper, “Is that true? I won’t mind if it is.”

  “Nah, he’s totally lying.” Lloyd faces Yoann. “Don’t even try to scheme Liv, Yoann. She’s my intern and therefore, under my protection.” “Your intern? I thought she was Patsy’s intern.” A girl with pixie blond hair across from me says.

  “Piss off, Femke.” Lloyd throws a paper coaster at her.

  Femke gives me appreciative look, like she’s checking me out. “Where are you from, Liv?”

  “California. And you?”

  “The Hague.”

  “That’s awesome. A trip to the Netherlands is definitely on my agenda.”

  “Fuck. You actually know where The Hague is. Most Americans would just stare at me with a blank expression.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. I don’t like to judge people right away, but her personality is beginning to get on my nerves.

  “Ignore Femke. Her Dutch bluntness is more acute today than ever. It must be her time of the month.”

  Femke flips Lloyd off and turns her attention to the girl next to her. I pick up the menu on the table and scan through the offerings. I have no idea what’s good here, but I don’t think I can go wrong with fish and chips.

  “So, how do you like your accommodations?” Lloyd peers at me over the brim of his beer mug.

  “Why does everyone keeping me asking that? It’s not that bad.”

  Lloyd raises both eyebrows. “If you say so.”

  “Ryan is here!” the girl with curly hair next to Lloyd says, almost bouncing off her seat. “Ryan, over here!” She raises her arm and waves at someone.

  My gaze follows hers and I see a blond God approach our table. He must be over six foot tall, with broad shoulders, and perfect hair. He could be a Hemsworth lost brother. He glances at Lloyd briefly, before his light blue eyes land on my face. I’m staring at him like a fool, and if the smirk on his lips is any indication, he has noticed. He steals a chair from a neighboring table and places it next to mine.

  “Hi, there. I don’t think we’ve met,” he says after he sits down.

  “Hands to yourself, Ryan. This is Liv and she’s my protégé.”

  “What? I can’t say hi?”

  Lloyd scowls at Ryan before he finishes his beer in one big gulp. “I need another drink.”

  A waiter comes by and Lloyd flags him. I take the opportunity to order dinner.

  “What are you drinking, Liv?” Ryan asks.

  “I guess I’ll have beer as well.”

  “Oh, we should do some shots. Would you do a shot with me Ryan?” Curly-haired girl says.

  She leans forward, making sure her boobs squish together. I want to laugh at her obviousness, but then I take a look at Lloyd’s face and he’s fuming. I’m not sure if the reason is that the girl is almost sitting on his lap, or the fact that Ryan is checking out the girl’s cleavage.

  Ryan glances at me. “Sure, I’ll do a tequila shot if Liv does one, too.”

  I shake my head. “Sorry. I’ll pass. I don’t want start my first day at work with a hangover.”

  In the end, Lloyd orders four tequila shots, and drinks two. Ryan asks me a bunch of questions and ignores every attempt Curly makes at engaging him in conversation. Lloyd seems to relax when he realizes that I’m not there to compete for Ryan’s attention. I don’t have the slightest intention to start any type of romantic relationship until I get my head straight. I have to get over Sebastian on my own, not use another guy to do it. It didn’t work out the last time I tried, and I have no reason to believe it will now. I still feel remorseful over how I handled the situation with Derek last year. He did not deserve what I did to him.

  “I’m going to the loo,” Lloyd announces suddenly, and gets up.

  As soon as Lloyd vacates the chair, Curly takes his spot. “Ryan, did you like those brownies that I baked for you?”

  “Yes, Renata. They were very good. Thank you.”

  My food arrives and I almost weep with joy. It smells sensational, or I’m really that hungry. I dip a fry in the tartar sauce and stuff the entire thing in my mouth. I close my eyes for a second and moan.

  “Enjoying yourself?” Ryan asks with a grin.

  “It’s so good. I would offer you some, but I don’t want to,” I say before I take a bite of the fish.

  Ryan shakes his head and laughs. “That’s okay. I already ate. I think I’m going use the restroom as well.”

  He stands up and all the girls in the vicinity turn their heads to stare at him. And I can’t say that I didn’t peek either. His ass looks damn fine in those jeans.

  “Ryan seems to like you,” Renata says next to me.

  I shrug and keep on eating. It’s not like I can add anything to her comment.

  “Do you fancy him?” she continues.

  I put the fork down and glance at her. “I just met him.”

  “So? I wanted to snog him the moment I saw him. He’s freaking gorgeous.”

  Renata sounds so out of her depth, that I feel sorry for her. I don’t think I can compare her lustful feelings toward Ryan to my own problems of the heart, but I know what it feels like to have no control over your emotions. It sucks.

  “Don’t worry. Ryan is all yours.”

  She sighs and rests her elbows on the table. “I wish. He’s so out of my league. But one can dream, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  ☂ ☂ ☂

  Five minutes later, I realize that I have to pee as well. As I walk through the busy pub, I search for Lloyd. Neither he nor Ryan have returned to the table yet and I wonder where they are. I quickly find out that the restrooms are on the second floor. I had planned to call Saylor earlier, but with the unpacking and the need to nourish myself, I ended up forgetting. She must be freaking out right now. I decide to check my messages as I head up the stairs. There’s a new one from Saylor asking when we can Skype. I type back a quick reply, and put my phone away.

  I think I will forever blame the jetlag for this, but in my distraction, I end up entering the wrong restroom. It wouldn’t be a big deal if not for the scene I witness. Lloyd and Ryan. Kissing.

  They both turn my way when they hear the sound of the door opening. “Uh, sorry. Wrong room.”

  I shuffle back as fast as I can and close the door. A second later, a flustered Ryan grabs my arm, spinning me around.

  “Liv, wait.”

  Ryan looks desperate, and I don’t know what to think of this situation, especially when Lloyd emerges from the restroom looking miserable. Lloyd stuffs his hands in his pockets and stares at the floor.

  “It’s okay, Ryan. You’re with Lloyd. It’s no big deal.”

  “Shhh. I’m not with Lloyd. Can you please forget you ever saw that?”

  Lloyd whips his face toward Ryan and I think he’s about to cry. He stomps past us and down the stairs. Should I follow him? God, what kind of drama did I get myself into?

  I pull my arm from Ryan’s grasp. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

  By the time I
get back to our table, Lloyd is gone.

  Chapter 22

  Olivia

  I wish I had the chance to exchange digits with Lloyd last night. I wanted to ask if he was okay before facing him at the office. But the butterflies in my stomach have nothing to do with that. This is my first official job in an events department, and at one of the most prestigious hotels in the world to boot. It’s a dream come true. When I helped organize Kimmy and Owen’s wedding last year, I found my calling. I want to work as a wedding planner after graduation, and maybe one day, open my own company. The experience I hope to acquire here at Hollingsworth will be invaluable.

  I’m early and there is no one in the office yet. The decoration is modern with white sleek furniture, glass desks, and walls painted a vibrant aqua-blue color. But what I like the most about the office are the huge widows that go up to the ceiling, bringing plenty of light into the room. There are four desks in total in the open floor space facing those windows. To my left, there’s a room separated by a glass wall and I assume it’s Patsy’s office. I walk in further and when I round a corner, I see a big meeting table and file cabinets are flanked against the walls. There’s a small efficient kitchen at the far end with one of those cool, vintage fridges in bright pink. I also spot a state of the art espresso machine on the counter. As far as offices go, I think I hit the jackpot.

  I walk toward the desks and find the one belonging to Lloyd immediately. There are several picture frames with him and a bunch of people taken in different occasions—at a pub, at the beach, at a costume party. Apparently, he’s a social butterfly. There are also Game of Thrones figurines scattered all over the clear desk and a stuffed Minion sits next to the monitor. I smile. If we can get past the awkwardness created last night, I think we’ll get along fine.

  The desk next to his right is also taken. There’s one single picture frame of a woman with auburn hair and freckled skin next to a ridiculously good looking man. He gives Denzel Washington a run for his money.

  I reach the following desk and see my name printed on a note. There’s also a black folder with the Hollingsworth logo on it. I sit down and look inside. I find several pages of literature about the events department, important telephone numbers, codes for the computer and printers, and also a list of upcoming events that I’m expected to dive into, head first.

  Ten minutes later, Lloyd comes in the office looking worse for wear. His clothes and hair are immaculate, but his eyes are bloodshot and dark scruff frames his jaw.

  “Good morning,” I say.

  He mumbles a response and flops onto his chair. He rests his elbows on the desk and hides his face between his hands. A minute later, he raises his head again and looks at me. “I hate Mondays.”

  I grin and shake my head. “Rough night?”

  “Yeah.” He pauses and licks his lips. “Listen, Liv. About last night—”

  “Lloyd. It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me. And don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul.”

  His face crumbles. “Ryan got to you, didn’t he?” Lloyd looks away and runs his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, I hate this. I swore to myself I would never get involved with a closeted man. And look at me. I’m a mess.”

  “So, how long you’ve been dating Ryan?”

  Lloyd snorts. “Dating. We’re not dating, Liv. I’m Ryan’s dirty little secret. We’ve been hooking up since April.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. My suffering is self-inflicted. I’m the fool who fell in love with a guy who doesn’t have the guts to be true to himself.”

  “Morning, darlings!” A super excited female voice greets us from the door.

  Lloyd and I glance in her direction and I see my other co-worker, the auburn-haired girl with the gorgeous boyfriend. She strides toward her desk carrying at least three bags of different sizes with her.

  “Are you moving in, Mellie?” Lloyd asks.

  “Fuck, no. I have to lose at least two stone before Christmas so I’m hitting the gym during lunch hour. Hence, I look like a mental pack mule. Ugh! Being healthy is so hard.”

  Mellie finally notices me and her eyes lit up. “Oh, I apologize for my rant. You must be, Olivia. Welcome.”

  “Thank you. You can call me Liv.”

  Lloyd swivels his chair my way. “I hope you don’t get offended easily. We all curse like sailors here.”

  “It’s okay. I can handle it.”

  ☂ ☂ ☂

  My boss doesn’t get in until an hour later. Patsy Saunders is a tall willowy woman with peroxide blonde hair and intelligent eyes. After a minute in her presence, I discover she can’t utter a single sentence without at least cursing once. Lloyd wasn’t kidding. They all have foul mouths.

  “All right, Liv, here is the gist. To survive in this department you must be able to work well under pressure, be willing to offer your first unborn child to the devil to please a client, and be able to think outside the box. There’s not a bloody day in this office when we don’t have to deal with a fucking crisis.”

  I nod as excitement slowly builds inside, creeping in, and taking over everything. That’s what I love the most about events—the craziness, the problems and challenges I have to face on a daily basis.

  Patsy continues. “There are just a few lines you can never cross. You must never, ever get involved with a client. When I say go over and above to keep them happy, I don’t mean spreading your legs for them. If someone propositions you, let me know. Hollingsworth has reputation to preserve.”

  I nod and sink lower in my chair. This is definitely the most unusual conversation I’ve ever had with a supervisor.

  “You’ll have about a week to learn the ropes before things get really shit crazy around here. My suggestion is to become best friends with Mellie and Lloyd.”

  I’m dismissed after that and I scramble out of Patsy’s office as fast as I can. She’s more intimidating in person than over the phone for sure.

  Chapter 23

  Sebastian

  All I want to do when I get home is to collapse into bed. The trip to the U.S. was a short one, but intense. Interviews after interviews, performances on TV shows, magazine photo shoots. I’m destroyed. But Gretchen wants to meet for lunch because she’s flying to São Paulo tonight.

  I take a quick shower, shave, and I’m out of the door in less than thirty minutes. We’re meeting at a cool little Italian restaurant in Soho. The cab that I called is already waiting for me when I hit the street. I never bothered getting my own car here because every time I go out I usually get hammered, so what’s the point of driving?

  The ride doesn’t take long for a Saturday afternoon, and thirty minutes later, I’m at the Tre Gatti. I pay for the fare and exit the vehicle quickly. I’m really not in the mood to deal with fans right now, so I lower my head and hope that no one on the sidewalk will recognize me. I should have worn my baseball cap, but Gretchen hates it. I enter the restaurant and spot her right away sitting at a booth at the far end. The hostess does recognize me, and blushes like a little girl. She must be in her forties. I tell her I’ve already located my companion and walk toward Gretchen. The hostess is probably crushed that she didn’t get to escort me to my seat, but I really don’t care.

  Gretchen is wearing a cream cashmere sweater paired with her trademark pearl necklace. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a bun at the base of her neck and loose strands frame her lovely face. Her gaze is down, glued to her phone, and she doesn’t see me until I slide into the booth, sitting down opposite her.

  Her eyes widen when she glances up. “Bas!”

  “Hello, luv. Miss me?” I fake a British accent.

  She smiles from her cheeks. “Yes. Did you miss me, too?”

  I make a serious face and look down at the menu. “No.”

  She swats my hand. “Jerk!”

  I peer at her
again, grinning this time. “Of course I’ve missed you, silly.”

  I’m not lying to her. I did miss her, but I think I’ve missed Liv more—a girl who hasn’t been in my life for almost five years. How fucked up in the head am I? Here I sit opposite one of the prettiest girls I’ve known, and I’m still hung up on my ex. She must be married to that Ken doll by now.

  “How was your trip? I tried to watch some of your interviews, but I’ve been so busy this week preparing for my trip to Brazil.”

  I shrug and flag a waiter. “Same boring shit. I’m exhausted.”

  “Too exhausted for some one-on-one time after lunch?” Gretchen gives me a smoldering look as her foot slides up my leg. My cock jerks in response.

  “I’m never too tired for that.”

  The waiter comes over and I order a glass of red wine and a mini cheese pizza. Gretchen only orders salad.

  “I can’t believe you always get the mini pizza when you come here. They have other stuff on their menu, you know?”

  “And I can’t believe you only order the salad.” I give her a meaningful look.

  She glances down at her hands. “I’ll be on the runway this week, Bas. Walking side by side with super models. I have to keep my curves under control.”

  I reach out and grab one of her hands, squeezing it. “But I love your curves.”

  She gives me a less enthusiastic smile this time. “I know you do.”

  The waiter comes back with my wine and I let go of Gretchen’s hand. We don’t do public displays of affection. Gretchen has been under media scrutiny for a long time, and she hates the tabloids as much as I do. Her mother used to be a famous model in the eighties who married an equally notorious tycoon. Her lineage alone would be enough to put her under the media’s radar, but it wasn’t until she started blogging that she became famous. Now she’s an It girl with several fashion designer collaborations under her belt, and invitations to participate in photo shoots and runway shows. She was in one of our music videos and that’s how we met.

  “What are your plans for tonight? I know that Ollie must be jonesing to hit the clubs.”