Page 14 of Grand Love

“When was this?” Who the fuck is this girl?

When he doesn’t answer, I throw open my door. “Lowell, just give me a fucking second,” he snaps.

I climb from the car and button my suit jacket, lifting my eyes to find two men standing on a balcony three floors up. Cigarette smoke rises between them as their eyes find focus on me. I nod my head to them and round the car.

“You coming, princess?” I ask through Charlie’s window.

He climbs from the car and removes his tie and jacket, then runs his hand through his hair, messing up his styled waves. “Let me do the talking.”

“Fuck off.”

“Trust me. Let me do the talking,” he warns, walking past me and into the building’s entrance.

The cold concrete floor is littered with bottles and plastic waste, haphazardly swept off to the sides to create a walkway. The walls have a musty smell, mould lining the cold concrete. The place is filthy.

We take the stairs to the ninth floor and come to a stop outside flat 36. I stand to the left of the door whilst Charlie steps up and knocks.

“She might be at work,” he tells me when she doesn’t answer after a minute, but I give him a look that says, ‘at this time of day’.

She’s probably sleeping off last night’s shift.

The door rattles then opens. “Who are you?” she asks in a strong east London accent.

I can’t see her from my concealed spot, but I can see Charlie, and his reaction has me craning my neck around the door to get a look at her.

Her eyes are scanning Charlie up and down as she pulls on the hem of her jumper. Her eyes meet mine and realisation quickly sets in.

“You,” she panics.

“Lowell!” Charlie warns as I wedge myself between the door and the doorframe, stopping her from shutting it.

I look up and into her face, only inches away from my own.

Those eyes.

I’d remember them anywhere. They still haunt me in my dreams.

She has bleached hair, which throws me off, because if it was dark, you’d think she was the girl I fell in love with once upon a time.

This is Nina’s sister alright.

“Get out or I’ll call the police,” she yells, her voice shaking.

“Good idea. Although, I’d open a couple windows first.”

She scoffs. “No one ever got arrested for smoking a bit of weed, rich boy,” she taunts, stepping back. And I get the sense her words lack the confidence she probably intended.

“No, maybe not, but my friend here. He is one of the best lawyers in the city. I’ve seen the pull he has in a court of law.”

“You don’t scare me,” she says, flicking her eyes to Charlie.

My hand snaps out, grasping her jaw tight enough to show I’m serious but loose enough to not leave a mark. “Who paid you?”

“What? Get off me.” She struggles, trying to snatch her head away from my grip.

“You’ll fucking tell me! You—”

“Lowell!” Charlie steps between us as she pushes my hand from her face. “You were paid to pose in photos with this man, yes?” he asks.

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