Page 163 of The Upper Crush

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James woke, panicked and disorientated, arms flailing across the counterpane.

His eyes flicked around the room, then closed with relief. He was back in the UK and his dad was home too.

Lying on his back, his bones leaden, the sun shone golden through his eyelids.

What was the time? He glanced at the clock on his bedside table. Ten o’clock.

Shit. He’d slept for thirteen hours.

He grabbed his phone from where it was lying on the bed next to him. What had he been doing before he passed out?

Estelle. He’d been trying to formulate the right message to send her.

But what could he say? Over the last few months, every correspondence had been about the festival, with Estelle getting more and more irate at his refusal to allow her to make any payments. If BDE Entertainment’s financial situation had been dire before his dad was arrested, now it was way worse.

Just tell her the truth.

What, that I’ve been lying to her since the start of the year? That we don’t even have the funds for the staff wage bill next month?

Pushing out of bed, he went to the shower. He needed to get downstairs and meet the new hires in person. Smile at them even though he knew he couldn’t afford their next pay packet.

Running the water hot, he ran his hands over the lean planes of his body. He hadn’t done enough exercise or eaten enough protein when he was away and had lost at least a stone of muscle mass.

Think. You can do this.

As well as the day-to-day work that Estelle knew about, he’d also been looking for sponsors to help make up the shortfall. But without being able to make his case in person, every lead had come to nothing. They needed an influencer to get on board.

Someone like Summer Foxbrooke…

He turned the water ice cold and shook his head. No way was he reaching out to Estelle’s youngest sister. He’d only met Summer once, and five minutes later his nose had been broken by Henry. If Estelle still believed he preferred blondes, or had once flirted with her sister, then sliding into Summer’s DMs would kill off any chance of him and Estelle ever being together.

His cock swelled as he remembered Estelle’s body on his, the feeling of being buried so deeply inside her it was as if she’d swallowed his soul as well. Arriving back last night, all he’d wanted to do was take her in his arms. But she’d hung back, and then Elyse had called her away.

Ignoring his cock, he turned the shower off and dried himself. At least Elyse hadn’t tried it on in China. When they weren’t in meetings or discussing his dad, she’d kept herself to herself, which had been a blessed relief. But now she was back with Estelle and he was living—

‘Babe? You up? I heard the shower,’ his mum called through the bedroom door. ‘You want some brekkie?’

‘Thanks, but I’ll get something later,’ he called back, pulling on clean clothes.

‘You sure? You’ve got all skinny.’

As if to emphasise her point, his jeans now needed a belt to hold them up.

He went to the door and opened it. ‘I’m fine. I’ll grab something once I’ve met the staff. How’s Dad?’

His mother frowned as she took him in. ‘He’s like you, babe. I could play the piano on his ribs. I’m gonna take him to Maccy D’s once he’s done his hair. Want me to bring you something back?’

‘Any steaks in the fridge?’

She shook her head. ‘I didn’t have time to shop yesterday. Shall I get you some from Waitrose in town?’

‘Thanks. And eggs, and a couple of tubs of their Number One Madagascan vanilla ice cream.’

‘The posh stuff?’

‘That’s the one.’

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