Page 107 of One Night Only
Only Declan remains unfazed. “Where’s the lucky man?” he asks.
“Over there.” She sounds nervous. “Beside the woman in the diamonds.”
We all follow her gaze, probably not discreetly at all, to a slightly older, attractive man chatting to a group of people in the middle of the room.
“He looks like one of the Mad Men,” Will says approvingly and I find myself nodding in agreement.
Claire’s shown me pictures of him dozens of times, but I’ve never actually met him. I can see instantly why she’s so fixated on him. He’s everything you’d expect a successful, rich person in this city to be. A tailored suit, a white smile, perfectly cut hair and a tan that no doubt comes from a holiday home in Barbados rather than out of a bottle. As soon as I see him, he’s all I can see. Like a magnet drawing you to him.
“And he’s so nice,” Claire said to me once after another failed date, when all she could think about was him. “And funny. You wouldn’t think it but he’s genuinely funny.”
As if on cue the group laughs and he grins at them all, shaking his head as he finishes whatever story he was telling.
Claire looks torn between wanting to jump him here and now or fleeing the room.
“How handsy do we want to be?” Declan asks, distracting her. “Level one, light hand-holding; level five, we need to talk about payment upfront.”
I glare at him, but Claire only laughs. “Let’s go for a two point five. Adjusting as needed.”
“At least make it a three,” Declan says in mock disappointment. “I got my suit pressed and everything.”
Make it a three. Ha ha ha. I’m so funny.
I scowl inwardly as they tease each other. His hand goes to the small of her back, guiding her further into the room and I have to drag my eyes away to keep from staring at it as I follow them. I concentrate on Mark instead, watching him from the corner of my eye and am surprised to find him already looking our way, his eyes on Claire even as he continues to talk. My mood brightens slightly. Maybe he isn’t as oblivious as Claire thinks he is.
Or maybe he just has the hots for Declan.
“So, is he your ex?” Will asks as he whips a champagne flute from a passing waiter.
“He’s my colleague,” Claire says, distracted.
“But you’ve hooked up.”
“No. I mean we kissed once. But nothing more.”
Will stares at her in disbelief. “You’re in love with the guy and you haven’t slept with him.”
“I’m not inlovewith him,” Claire says.
“Good. What if he’s bad in bed?”
“What?”
I try to step on his foot in my stiletto heel, but he dodges me easily.
“You need to be prepared,” he says. “You’re accumulating months of buildup in your mind. All that tension, all that hope. You like him, you love him, maybe he’s a good kisser. You finally get together and…” He trails off with a shrug. “He’s like a wet fish.”
“He won’t be bad in bed,” I say firmly but Claire’s panicking now, so I stare at Declan until he gets the hint. His hand moves from her back to slip around her waist, his expression serene.
“Let’s get a drink,” he says. “Alone.” And together they stride off into the party, leaving me with Will.
He meets my pointed look with one of his own. “You know I’m right.”
It’s going to be a long night.
* * *
An hour later I’m standing by myself on the terrace, watching Claire through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Thirty minutes ago Declan successfully maneuvered them into Mark’s circle, where they’ve remained. Declan is talking. He’s been doing most of the talking since they joined. And whatever he’s saying must be hilarious because the group has been laughing nonstop since then.
