Page 101 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay
Unfortunately, by now she was completely out of it. Afraid that she might be sick again while he was looking for a female member of staff, he lifted her feet onto the bed and placed her onher side. Then he went to get a towel from the bathroom to put under her head.
“Here, this’ll . . .”
Abruptly, the door burst open and a very angry young man erupted into the room.
“What the . . . What’s going on in here?” His fists were clenched, his eyes blazing with fury. “That’s my wife, you bastard.”
“Really? Well, you should have taken better care of her.” His voice was cool, patient. “She’s had too much to drink, she’s thrown her guts up, and now she’s passed out.”
“And you were going to . . .”
“Come off it, mate.” The words were like water off a duck’s back. He’d had far cruder insults than that thrown at him on the football field. “I don’t know about you, but my taste doesn’t run to having sex with unconscious females who smell of alcohol and sick.” The girl on the bed moaned and rolled over, mumbled something and snored loudly. “She was upset. She said you’d had a row.”
The guy shook his head, frowning. “Nothing serious. Just my mother...”
“It was serious to her. So be nice to her, eh? She seems like a good kid.”
The guy was staring at him. “You’re . . . you’re Paul Channing, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.” And before the guy could make up his mind whether to throw a punch or ask for his autograph, he got himself out of the room.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jess sat cross-legged on her bed with her laptop, scrolling through the job adverts. Her lip was curled in disgust. Last night . . . She’d heard Paul’s voice on the stairs and had peered down to see what was going on — and she’d seen him with that girl.
She’d seen her when the guests had checked in earlier in the day. She was one of the youngest of the group, here with her husband and his family. Jess had wondered at the time whether the girl would get bored among the much older crowd.
Well, apparently she’d decided to relieve the boredom by dumping her husband and going to bed with Paul Channing.
As she’d peeped through a crack in the service door, she’d seen him use his pass-key to open the door of the girl’s room, and disappear inside with her.
Well, that hadn’t taken him long! He could only have been back for a couple of hours. Dammit, her mum had been right — they were all bastards. Well, most of them.
Thank goodness she hadn’t let herself get involved with him. So much for being friends. She wasn’t sure she could even bring herself to speak to him.
There really wasn’t anything worth looking at on the jobs pages. It probably wasn’t the best time of year to be searching, with less than two weeks to go to Christmas. Especially for someone with no formal qualifications.
On top of which, she’d have nowhere to live. All the reasons why she hadn’t wanted to go to either of her parents when she had first left Glenn were still there, and staying with Jools wasn’t an option — she’d still be far too close to Paul Channing.
With a sigh, she closed the laptop, put it aside, and rolled off the bed. At the moment she did have a job, and it would bestupid to just walk out on it, however tempting that might be. She was just going to have to grit her teeth until after Christmas.
The reception desk was busy, as usual. The phone rang intermittently; a steady stream of guests who hadn’t gone on the trip to Exeter approached with various enquiries; and there was a delivery of drink for the lounge bar.
This was how she liked it — structured chaos, always keeping her on her toes. Keeping her from dwelling too much on what she’d seen last night.
Hearing voices behind her, her shoulders stiffened: Paul and Mike coming out of the back office. Mike walked over to the dining room, but Paul paused beside the reception desk.
“Good morning. How’s it going?”
She spared him the briefest glance and kept her attention focussed on the computer screen.
“Hello?” He moved so that he was in her eyeline. “Anybody in there?”
“Excuse me,” she responded tersely. “I’m busy.”
He turned his head, letting his gaze wander pointedly around the room. “It seems quiet enough at the moment for you to at least say hello. I haven’t seen you for weeks.”
She shrugged her shoulders in careless dismissal, as she continued to scroll through the spreadsheet.
